A Glimpse into a Tigrayan Household in Addis Ababa: A Slow Genocide

Like every other Tigrayan, whose homeland is going through a genocide, my parents haven’t slept for over 6 months. I believe documenting these experiences heals the soul, and I do so in hopes that maybe someone will relate to it as well.

Tigrayan Mother – “Ado Tigray” 

My mother is the hero of our house. She is one of those people who always finds a way to solve problems or support her family in any way that she can. Since the war began, she has brought out an even stronger side of herself, but we can see it weighs on her.

With several family members in Tigray, the heart-wrenching reports of extrajudicial killings, rape, and destruction across Tigray hit close to home. My mother had no means of communicating with her siblings, cousins, and distant relatives whose lives were at risk during the first three months of the war in Tigray. There was no way she could help them. 

Once the phone lines were connected in some parts of Tigray, she spoke to her family with a fake sense of normalcy, and they did the same, keeping each other strong. Conversations with family members in Tigray are usually short and simple. “Kemay Alekhum?” (How are you doing?), she asks. Suffering in silence, they say, “Dehan ina, kem hizbina, natatkum imber abu beynikhum.” (We are good just going through it with our community, yours is more worrying, you are also vulnerable there). My mother’s relatives knew no Tigrayan was safe in Ethiopia. 

My mother secretly weeps for the humans, the animals, the mountains of Tigray. I admire her faith. She prays for peace each day. She talks to herself often, mumbling “Mariam Tsion tihalwom” (May St. Mary of Zion protect them all). She puts on a brave face, but we can all see the dark circles under her eyes while wrinkles that once were a sign of wisdom have taken over her face. She does not laugh; her eyes give away her pain even as she smiles. She tasted the bitter fruit of war once before; she never thought she would have to go through it again.

Aboy – My Father

My father’s worn-down face shows his desperation. He can’t protect his family in Addis Ababa. He is permanently just gazing or obsessively looking for news everywhere and anywhere. Wondering if the police are going to show up again and take him, he has mentally prepared us for it. His brothers and cousins, with no active engagement with the Tigrayan People’s Liberation Front (TPLF), were all arrested or disappeared for days after being taken by the police. 

The police have come to our house a few times. The last time they came, they searched every Tigrayan’s home in our apartment building. Our building is old. Many of the tenants who have lived here for more than 15 years know my family. The Ethiopian federal police came packed in two cars and searched 8 houses from among the 20 or more. We found humor in how the home of an 80-year-old Eritrean woman, who is pro-dictator Isaias Afewerki, was also searched. She was angry that she was treated as a criminal, but all of us whose houses were searched were treated like criminals. We had one thing in common — we spoke Tigrigna. 

Our parents and some of our relatives with military experience have coped much better than most of us Tigrayans born and raised in Addis. They go to work each day and are indifferent to the ignorant comments and hate from their coworkers. I assume the marginalization of Tigrayan during and prior to the Derg regime somewhat prepared them for this. Some of them fought the Derg for over a decade so the next generation of Ethiopians could live in peace. But here they are, again, watching their country resort to war against itself. 

…And Those of us Born and Raised in Addis Ababa

The young Tigrayans in Addis Ababa are struggling with being the target of hate speech and discrimination the most — possibly because they have never imagined living through such a period in their lifetime.  Some attempt to live a normal life, while others have completely shut down in shock of the current reality.  

Some of us are unable to escape the realities of life in Tigray — civilian lives taken in the name of Ethiopia. We are quietly nursing our pain, all the while avoiding discrimination for being Tigrayans. Most Tigrayans in Addis Ababa live in fear. In fear of what could happen to their fathers, brothers and cousins. Tigrayan men are being taken from their homes, cafes and restaurants across the country for possible associations with the TPLF. 

My family’s home — once a vibrant household — quickly became a ghost house. Each of us on our phones, looking for and scrolling through information on Tigray. Going through lists of the dead. 

The internet seemed like the only place to be heard. We started to make friends out of strangers on different social media platforms. Friendship came easier with those who understood that no human life should be collateral for consolidating power. 

In a genocide, psychological dehumanization is a core strategy for the subjugation of a people. Rape stories coming from Tigray have been the most traumatizing part. Ethiopian and Eritrean soldiers are raping Tigrayan women during this genocidal war. Ethiopian soldiers tell the women they rape that they are there to “cleanse [them] of [their] Tigrayan bloodline.” 

The barbaric atrocities being committed against Tigrayan women in Tigray, possible because of patriarchal societal norms, successfully deactivated my brain for weeks. I experienced vicarious traumatization, confronted with flashbacks to the stories I had read and heard. At times, when I encounter men, I think about the rape survivors and wonder if these men would partake in sexual violence against Tigrayan woman. Tigrayan women’s trauma is my trauma.

Most young Tigrayans in Addis Ababa have found different ways to cope and fight back. Some drive to work singing empowering resistance songs made by Tigrayan fighters in the 1970s. Some write about their experience behind closed doors. Some have joined the armed struggle to free Tigray, and others have decided to leave the city they once loved in search of a new home.

Tigrayans in all sectors are working to give back to their community in need. Organizing and participating in donation drives, praying that it reaches Tigray.  It fills my heart with pride and hope to know that we are passionately preparing to rebuild and heal Tigray.

Betty – Omna Tigray External Contributor, May 2021