Editor’s Note:

Ethiopian-born, Sosena Kebede, served as an Assistant Professor of Internal Medicine at the Hanover Regional Medical Center in Wilmington, North Carolina until April 2006. She spent her pre-high school years in Ethiopia, Tanzania, and Botswana before she settled in the United States in 1988. She holds a Bachelor of Science degree in Biology from Duke University and a Medical Doctor Degree from University of North Carolina. She is currently a student of the Masters in Public Health Program at Johns Hopkins University.

Last Spring, Dr. Sosena spent five weeks volunteering at Tikur Anbessa (Black Lion) Hospital in Addis Ababa. The following is an excerpt of her memoir that details her personal experience at one of the largest health care facilities in Ethiopia.

May 3, 2006

So I woke up at 8:45am after going to bed at 11:00pm last night and I reported to duty at Tikur Anbessa Hospital (hereto referred to as TAH).

The hospital is run down, there is barely enough lighting to see your way in the hallways, the wards reek of a mixture of antiseptics, body odors, and whatever else. Medical equipments are scarce, outdated and in some cases out of commission.

Above: There is barely enough lighting to see your way in the hallways. Photography by Sosena Kebede

The Out patient Clinic (OPD) is mainly run by resident physicians. Consultants usually see subspecialty patients and are available for consultations. Patient rights including a right to privacy or modesty is barely existent. Patients are examined in a semi-office type room with one stretcher in the room. There is no gown, no privacy in that small room. Patients have to undress in the full view of the doctor and the nurse as well as who ever else may be around at the time in that small room. (Oh, the cell phone of the doctors rings at times in the middle of exams and the doctor interrupts the exam while the patient is lying half naked and talks on the phone. (Later on, I found out that the cell phone is used as a pager equivalent in this hospital so to be fair most calls seem to be work related). What topped my experience today was when the examining physician at one time literally pinched an older woman’s pendulous left breast by the nipple and raised the whole breast up in the air like a tent while listening to her heart! I was mortified, and I so badly wanted to slap his hand off of her.

Above: The Out patient Clinic (OPD). Photography by Sosena Kebede.

Because not all patients can be seen by a consultant some complicated cases are seen by residents alone which made me feel uncomfortable to say the least. Today, one of the residents came to ask the cardiologist’s opinion on how to manage an elderly gentleman who apparently is in third degree heart block intermittently (A heart conduction abnormality that can be fatal). There is no pacer (a pacer, as the name implies, is a device used to” pace” the heart when its intrinsic ability to pace its own rhythm fails) and the gentleman declined admission for monitoring purposes citing financial reasons. It turned out that he couldn’t afford any medications either. Decision was made to send him out and have him come back in three weeks!! Wow. I felt helpless; as I am sure these physicians have million times over. I gave the old man some money for medications. He kissed my hands and I walked out chocked up, knowing that he is one of many, and one couldn’t possibly help all… I saw the physicians exchange glances as I walked out. Perhaps they were amused by what they perceived to be a naïve gesture on my part. Perhaps, they thought here is another American trying to be a hero.

Clearly the volume and the acuity of care is way above what these exhausted and frustrated physicians can handle. The system seems to be crumbling and I wondered how they make it day to day, patients and physicians alike.

At the end of a long day, I stood looking outside the window on 8th floor while waiting for my ride to go home. I saw a beautiful landscape of Addis. A spectacular chain of mountains cradle rows of shacks and rusty tin roofs. The high rises that pop their heads above the shacks don’t hide the story of this city. This city holds some of the wretched of this world.

Above: 8th floor offices. Photography by Sosena Kebede.

May 4, 2006

I attended grand rounds today and was once again impressed by the quality and clarity of presentation and the professional attitudes of the residents and even more impressed by how bright they are as demonstrated by their wide differential diagnoses. I sat at the back of the conference room proud to call them my people. I don’t think my residents in America with all the information excess at their fingertips and a lot of spoon feeding could generate as much differential and show such insight into disease processes as these residents.

In the department of Internal medicine, there is one lap top and LCD projector that is kept in the main office but the residents use overhead slides for their presentations. The screen for projection is torn at the corner and is held by a wide masking tape and creates an indentation on some of the hand written words that project on its surface. I struggled to read their hand written presentation but I preferred to listen to them anyway, so it didn’t matter.

Diagnostic modalities such as CTs and echos are hard to come by. The hospital does not have an MR. The single CT scanner the hospital has, I am told is broken and has been so for the last 12 months! Patients who require CTs will have to go to private clinics to get them done. With a prohibitive cost for these diagnostic procedures most patients who need them can’t get them.

The physicians here work under some of the most emotionally devastating circumstances, with very little reward and no job satisfaction whatsoever. I found out that every physician now works at a private clinic to supplement their income at the government hospital. This includes the resident physicians as well.

There is no heart hard enough and a mind so callus that it can’t feel pain, outrage, disbelief, and despair at what I am seeing in Ethiopia.

Out of the many sad cases here are a couple that I will probably never forget. We saw a 20 some year old male who came to the cardiology clinic for follow-up of his cyanotic heart disease. He was born with “a hole in his heart” and because of this defect the oxygenated and deoxygenated blood mix and gives patients such as this one “cyanosis”( bluish hue to their coloring), which is one of the hallmarks of low oxygen in the blood. During this visit, the patient is told to continue taking his medications (which will not fix the problem!) and “try and pursue his chance to go abroad to get definitive treatment”. The only way to cure this type of defect is by surgical method and that is not available in Ethiopia. Of course this young man, who is a college student can’t go abroad and he will die here. I wondered what he is studying and how long he will stay alive. Ethiopia’s life expectancy is about 43 years of age, I don’t think he will make it that far.

An 18 year old girl who looks not a day older than 13 (she is severely malnourished) came with her dad for follow-up of her shortness of breath and trouble lying flat. During physical exam her heart looked like it’d pop out between her left sided rib spaces and you barely have to put your stethoscope on her chest to hear the loud booming murmur (a heart murmur is a sound made as blood rushes out of the heart chambers via its valves and can be a sign of heart valve problems). She had distended neck veins and is breathing heavy. This girl has a very sick heart, and you didn’t need to be a doctor to see that. I saw her echo live and the cardiologist, (who is clearly very bright and in my opinion second to none) pointed out the girl’s massively stretched heart chambers and the severe valve leakages. She is clearly a surgical case but he pointed out because of her malnourishment he didn’t think that ENAHPA (Ethiopian North American Health Professionals Association, a group of Ethiopian and non-Ethiopian health professionals from North America that are expected to come mid May to do cardiac surgeries) will consider her to be a good surgical candidate. The girl’s father who accompanied her has sad eyes and didn’t say a word and seems to have no clue as to what is going on with his daughter. The little girl spoke in whispers I could barely hear, and she kept her eyes down cast and continuously wrung her fingers that were folded on her lap. The name and the body frame may change but this case and the whole scenario was déjà vu all over again for me.

There is a frighteningly minimal amount of conversation that goes on between patients/their families and these doctors. The patients and their families who at times travel several kilometers to make it to this hospital are so mishandled starting at the hospital gate all the way to the clinics. Part of this ill-treatment that I perceive (the Amharic word “Mengelatat” I think fits the bill better than any other English term I can come up with) I believe may stem from a general lack-luster “customer service” practice in our culture. Also, my experience has been that harsh words are freely hurled by people in “authority” to people who are perceived to be either inferiors or subordinates in some ways without fear of repercussions. A hospital guard who carries a gun is at liberty to scold a family member of a patient at the hospital gate; as would an older man in car to a female pedestrian, an adult to a child or a physician to a patient, just to name a few. Added to that, the frustrations that come from working under such difficult conditions may make people appear to be heartless. Regardless, it is a sad state of affairs.

Above: B8.  Photography by Sosena Kebede.

Today, I felt overwhelmed by all I saw. After work I met with a friend of mine at a café (there is a miracle right there, my good old southern friend from Wilmington North Carolina, now sitting across the table from me in the country of my origin!) and I broke down and cried about this whole package of life in Ethiopia. He cried with me.

May 8, 2006

The residents essentially manage most of the patients. While I rounded on hematology patients with one of the Hematologist, I was impressed by these residents as they discussed the management of leukemias, multiple myelomas etc. They know the chemotherapeutic agent dosages, all the side-effects. They administer and monitor treatment after consultation with the sub specialist. Infectious diseases are plentiful in kind and number in Ethiopia. I had to acquaint myself anew with some of the tropical diseases such as Leishmaniasis and Schistosomaisis etc, which I was once taught in the US as topics of historical significance in the western world.

Before rounds I was listening to a bunch of residents discuss a case of pleural effusion (fluid in the lungs) and its managements. They know what they are talking about and the camaraderie and team play exhibited seems to be far superior to what I have seen in America. I was also very happy to overhear that they do most of the medical procedures and although limited, do have access to ultrasound guided thoracentesis,(a method by which fluid from the lungs is drained using ultrasound guidance). Most of these guys (unfortunately with the exception of two females they are all guys) seem to be highly motivated, after having arrived at this stage of their lives after much trials and tribulations. (Naturally, there are exceptions to the rule). They work under such suboptimal conditions, with very limited support system, and meager educational resources. Their motivation to learn makes me wonder if I will ever want to teach in
America again.

May 10, 2006

I had a very full day today-long rounds and lectures to the residents. What a pleasure though.

I have had some opportunities to mingle with people and form friends in the hospital and outside of it. The recurring theme among physicians and non-physicians is that people in Ethiopia are increasingly being made to abandon intellectual/ academic pursuits for entrepreneurships in order to survive. (There is nothing wrong with entrepreneurship or business if done honestly, but it should not be the only means of existence in a modern society). One young professional couple shared with me how some of their close friends who have only high school education have gone into “business” and are living large, whereas people like them who have invested a significant number of years in education are left to struggle to make ends meet. Their expertise for knowledge transfer and their contribution to pulling Ethiopians out of the dark ages of ignorance seems to be overlooked. The way I see it, Ethiopian intellectuals are given very little incentive to make this country their home.

While discussing this topic with one individual I heard very disturbing news about a parliamentary discussion that was televised recently. Apparently, the prime minister of Ethiopia was discussing with members of the parliament on how Ethiopia can improve its Chat business in the international market. Chat is a marijuana like substance that is grown in Ethiopia and has an addictive and mind altering properties. This recreational drug is now creating a huge problem among the youth and adults alike and is blamed for a significant number of road fatalities especially among long distance truck drivers who drive while under the influence. Everyone can list many bad public policies, but this one defies explanation and borders on insanity.

May 11, 2006

I saw an elderly male carrying an emaciated adolescent kid and walking up the steep hill via the Radio Fana road going to TAH today. Beside him, also was a middle aged guy carrying a plastic bag. I saw them trudging up that steep hill in silence, obviously exhausted from a long journey, and quite clearly unable to afford a taxi fare to bring a sick child to the hospital. I wondered how long they traveled today and where they came from. I wondered what illness the child had and what other “mengelatat” (harassment) awaits them starting at the TAH gate. I wondered when they will eventually be able to see a physician. I also wondered if that child was going to walk out of TAH alive…

I see many elderly and sick people climbing the stairs at TAH all the way up to the 8^th floor because the only one functioning elevator (that sometimes fails to function) is reserved for those who are severely sick such as those who require stretchers. I helped carry a heavy bag for a lady walking up the stairs this afternoon. She was very happy to share the burden and was talking to me in between halting breaths until one of the ladies who works in house keeping on 5th floor addressed me as “doctor”. At that point, the lady I was climbing the stairs with took the plastic bag I was helping carry from my hands, thanked me profusely and went her way, without even giving me a chance to say that it was no big deal.

I also see rows of people sitting on the benches and on the floors of the hospital waiting for their turns to see a doctor. Some look like they need to be in ICU immediately. Not that the medical ICU which has 4 beds and the most rudimentary cardiac monitors and not much else, will avail much of anything, but at least they will be in a bed of some sort. From what I gathered there are only two mechanical ventilators in the ICU; there are two “crash carts” (carts that hold emergency medications and defibrillators in the event of cardiopulmonary arrest)-one in the ICU the other in the OPD area. Emergency medications are not always available, therefore medical emergencies in general have a predictable dismal outcome.

During lunch break today a very soft spoken and pleasant laboratory technician was talking about how tuition for her daughter has increased by 50% and she and her husband don’t know how they are going to be able to keep their only child in the same school. Everywhere I turn I hear “sekoka” (woes). Sometimes it is almost impossible to comprehend this level of social devastation in one country. The poor have clearly grown poorer over the past decade or two, and the minority of “middle class” are frantically struggling not to join others into the quick sand of poverty. There is wide spread sense of hopelessness and dejection in people of all ages, and gender. People are preoccupied with trying to figure out how they can make it from one day to another.

I talk about misery sitting in an upscale café/bookstore, eating grilled veggie sandwich, drinking green tea, and working on my lap top. I have my palm pilot and cell phone on the table, both very much operational and invaluable even here in Ethiopia. On the bottom floor of this beautiful contemporary café called Lime Tree café is a snazzy day spa called “Boston Day Spa, Where luxury and Glamour Meet”. I am very comfortable. When I am done writing this piece I will walk across the street of Bole, where rows of internet cafes, pastry shops, high end boutiques and shiny high rises are lined up. I might as well be in America. I will eventually walk into a two storey beautiful house where the maids will wait on me. Now that is much better than I have it in America. This is what I call the “artificial” life of Addis Ababa. This is a life that only a very small minority of Ethiopians live.

Many things annoy me even infuriate me, but none like people who measure developmental advances of the country using these “artificial” methods. Rome was not built in a day, and nor will Ethiopia be. I am not against road constructions and the erection of high rises. I am not necessarily against the SUV driving, designer clothing wearing, Sheraton Hotel partying, Europe vacationing crowds. I am however against those who use this minute fraction of the reality in Ethiopia to measure “development”. I am against complacency and indifference to the pressing issues of basic human needs food, shelter, clothing, health care, education and safety to all the people of Ethiopia.

May 12th 2006

There were four successive bomb blasts in Addis today. One was close to TAH and it occurred while I was giving a lecture on Sub acute Bacterial Endocarditis to the medical students. Everyone looked pretty unmoved by the whole thing and outside the building it was business as usual. People on the street either talked about something entirely different, or they casually made comments about how they believe the government itself is responsible for these blasts. Two of the four blasts happened in a taxi and a bus (I could very well have been in one of those taxis), and a total of four people died with over 20 injured, some very seriously. Waiting for a taxi to go home right after the blast I saw a group of people sitting at a café near Ambassador Hotel having a good old time. The thought that came to mind was that Ethiopians have become accustomed to death and dying of all forms including terrorist killings that they carry on their lives pretty much how the Israelis and the Palestinians must carry on. Just when I thought it couldn’t possibly get any worse…!!

May 15, 2006

I keep fairly busy at TAH, and I am enjoying getting to know people a little bit better everyday. One of the physicians asked me today why I wanted to come to Ethiopia to work. This is a well seasoned physician that has served in the institution for a long time and I think he wanted to know if I knew what I would be getting myself into. I know that Ethiopia’s problems are complex and individual efforts may be miniscule but if there is enough of us I believe the scale will eventually tip. The scale may not tip in my life time but I am willing to leave my “negligible” contribution on the offering plate.

It is easy to get overwhelmed by all that is wrong around here, but in my simplistic personal view, there is still a lot of untapped sources. These sources are easy to miss because they are not big and they don’t leave visible dents on the surface of our problems, and they certainly don’t make the headlines. Most of these sources are also not measured in monetary in kind, and thus may appear not to be that valuable. I am thinking of the power of compassion that moves us to own the pain and suffering of others and make it our own. I am thinking of daily acts of simple kindness at individual levels. I am thinking of touching other human beings, both literally and figuratively. During rounds I made sure I laid my hands on each patient and addressed them by their names. I also always asked the patients and their families if they had any questions before we left their bedside. I made it my business to communicate to them by words, attitudes and actions that their issues concern me and they matter to me. Two days ago, the father of a 15 year girl with leukemia shook my hand and said to me in Oromiffa (was translated to me by one of the residents who speaks the language) that for them to” be touched by a doctor is like medicine itself ‘.

I will always remember what someone said to me: “People don’t care how much you know until they know how much you care”. If the students and the residents I worked with this month will remember only this piece of advice my time with them has been worth it.

Talking of simple kind acts, today’s was a special one. I was leaving TAH when a woman asked me where the “cherer kifle” (radiation room) was. Of course I didn’t know where it was but since she and a young man are bringing a very sick elderly woman who could barely walk, (she was moaning and looked like she was about to collapse), I offered to investigate for them. Once I found out it was on 2nd floor, they asked if the “lift” (elevator) will automatically stop on the floor, apparently it was their first time to take an elevator. I took the elevator with them and walked them to radiation oncology and gave their chart to the nurse and inquired for them when they will be seen. There are no wheel chairs, no hospital staff that help triage these sickly patients. The radiation/oncology area it turned out was quite a walk and I kept looking behind me at the sick woman and the man supporting her and said words of encouragement such as “Ayezwot desrsenale” (loosely translated: hang in there, we are almost there”). After we arrived in the radiation room the elderly lady sat on the bench she took my hand and kissed it (for the second time in 10 days, and it brought tears to my eyes. Such deep gratitude, for such a small act…) and said some of the most beautiful merekat (blessings) to me. The one that stood out the most was “Enkifat enkwan ayemtash” (“may you not even stumble”). I loved hearing that. I bowed my head several times, in acknowledgement, Ethiopian style, and said my Amens to all the blessings. It touched me so much, that it surprised me. In a land where verbal cursing is not uncommon it is good to hear a torrent of blessing for a change.

Above: With one of my favorite patients. Photography by Sosena Kebede.

June 16, 2006

I was rushing out through the OPD gate to meet someone for lunch when I run into one of the residents I know. We talked about what it is like to work and live in Ethiopia as a physician. My conversations with the same physician although not entirely based on a new theme gave me a reinforcement of what most intellectuals/professionals in this country are feeling. He told me that his salary rated among the highest but for a family of seven (five kids and a wife) it will be sufficient for two weeks only. Like many others he is also supplementing his income with a second job in the form of a private clinic work. He recounted that once upon a time, he too had great aspirations and dreams to bring about a change in the society. He told me after several episodes of banging his head against a brick wall he has decided to lead a quite life and support his family. This physician, who is soft spoken and accomplished, like many others has contributed a lot to that institution and to the country at large. How many peoples’ dreams and visions have died, I wondered.

I am reminded of the Biblical verse that says “a small yeast will leaven up an entire dough”. This is true of good as well as bad influence (“leaven”). I do believe, that though we might not see this happen in our generation, if we are determined we can be the leaven, the catalyst, to bring about a paradigm shift in this country. We can be the catalysts who will initiate the process of change from the cycles of poverty to self sufficiency.

I was very fortunate and truly feel honored to have met so many people that have done so much and have the potential to do so much more in Ethiopia. Some are tired, others are tiring out. That is why we need reinforcements to be deployed to them. With all the apprehensions that I feel at times, I can’t wait till I go back to Ethiopia. One of my self assigned missions now is to recruit as many as are willing to be part of that reinforcement.

Above: My last day with the residents. Photography by Sosena Kebede.

—————————-

By Tseday Alehegn

Above: Tseday Alehegn in Harlem, New York. Photography by Liben Eabisa.

In the heart of Chelsea, New York, one of the world’s blossoming art districts, lays a gem for African art lovers. Skoto Gallery, a contemporary African art gallery, opened its doors to the public in 1992 with the notable African-American jazz icon Ornette Coleman as curator of its inaugural exhibition. Over the years, the gallery has mounted several memorable and engaging exhibitions, and has helped introduce the New York art world to the works of African artists such as master printmaker Mohammad Omer Khalil (Sudan); sculptors El Anatsui (Ghana), Uche Okeke (Nigeria), Ahmed Nosseir (Egypt), Pefura (Cameroon), Kan- Si (Senegal); and Ethiopian painters Wosene Kosrof , Tesfaye Tessema and sculptures by Etiye Dimma Poulsen, a Belgium based Ethiopian Artist.

Left: Mohammad Omer Khalil (Sudan), Descending Sun, 2004, 12×12 in. Right: Pefura (Cameroon), Untitled: Frontale Particuliere, Interior-Exterior Vol. II, video still, c-print, 17×12 inches. Photos courtesy of Skoto Gallery.

Left: El Anatsui (Ghana), Meeting of the Elders, 2005, aluminum (liquor bottle tops) and copper wire, 79”x133”, 198cmx343cm. Right: Tesfaye Tessema (Ethiopia), Addis Improvisation III, 2004, acrylic on canvas, 72×54 inches. Photos courtesy of Skoto Gallery.

Left: Wosene Kosrof (Ethiopia), Word Play III, 2006, acrylic on canvas, 25×24 inches. Right: Etiye Dimma Poulsen, Aztec Woman, 2005, mixed media, 23×10x4 inches. Photos courtesy of Skoto Gallery.

Occupying a charming space, Skoto shares the same floor with the legendary ACA, one of New York’s oldest galleries and a specialist in 19th and 20th century American and European art. Skoto Gallery was one of the first galleries in the United States to focus primarily on contemporary African Diaspora art. Prior to its inception, African art aficionados had to make do with occasional museum exhibits, which, when closed, left an irreplaceable void.

Gallery owners Skoto Aghahowa and his artist-wife Alix du Serech have created a neutral and continual exhibition space where established and emerging artists display their work, fusing traditional elements with modern influences. “There has been an increasing body of knowledge in the field of contemporary African art in recent years, and credit must be given to African scholars, art historians, curators and the artists themselves for their active participation in this effort,” says Skoto.

Above: Gallery owners Skoto Aghahowa and Alix du Serech. Photography by Liben Eabisa.

“We invite and encourage artists from throughout the African Diaspora to visit the gallery and share in this experience.” Skoto also acknowledges the work of non-African artists from throughout the world, since they also bring their unique perspectives and experiences into their practices.

Asked why he chose to become an art dealer, Skoto posits, “As much as we have talented artists, writers, art historians, musicians and poets, so too must we have African art dealers, publishers, and promoters who are actively engaged in all phases of the process  – from the private studios of the artists to the marketplace.” Interpretation of African art needs to be conducted not only through the eyes of the Western world but likewise through the mindset of the Africans who created the art.

Skoto also stresses the importance of having a greater understanding of the creative process, the environment in which one operates, as well as marketing and promotion skills within African communities. “A piece of artwork retains its value when one strikes a balance between scholarly work and commercial success,” he reminds us. Hence, he points out, “The most important role for an art dealer is to be familiar with the work of world artists, not just African artists, and to help create a context in which the work can be understood and appreciated.” According to Skoto, “Becoming a good art dealer requires open-mindedness, and honestly engaging oneself in the practice of the artists one works with.” In essence, the task is to serve as an interlocutor, putting up exhibitions that illuminate what artists want to interpret.

For Skoto, the best part of owning and running a gallery is the time he spends organizing exhibitions with Alix. He especially enjoys setting up group shows that bring together artists from various backgrounds and cultures. “I not only like displaying artworks, but also watching the artists themselves interact with each other, sometimes for the first time,” Skoto shares.

True success, for Skoto and Alix, is watching artists and the gallery grow together as the public becomes familiar with their work. Equally gratifying is the acquisition of works by museums and other institutions for their collections; it means these works will be viewed by a much larger general public, and become a part of the collective visual documentation of our times. Skoto dreams of a Museum for Contemporary African Art established and run by Africans in the United States in the not-too-distant future.

Learn more about the gallery at skotogallery.com

———–

About the Author: Tseday Alehegn is the Editor-in-Chief of Tadias Magazine. Tseday is a graduate of Stanford University (both B.A. & M.A.). In addition to her responsibilities at Tadias, she is also a Doctoral student at Columbia University.

“
Ethiopia has existed for 3,000 years. In fact, it existed ever since the first man [person] appeared on earth.” – Haile Selassie I, Interview by Italian journalist Oriana Fallaci on Sunday, June 24, 1973.  

A Japanese historian observes that those who control their time, control their destiny. As we approach our millennium, it is appropriate to take inventory of our time, our historical time. How old are we? What is the significance of the human fossil discoveries in the Afar region of southeast Ethiopia that are dated in millions of years? How can we integrate different reckoning of time by our people into an Ethiopian sense of temporality? Such questions, responses to them and the consensus we reach are useful in shaping the present and planning for the future. The purpose of this article is to rethink the Ethiopian sense of time and to suggest an alternative organization of it.  

Since the middle of the twentieth century, our understanding of historical time has changed, thanks to the scholarly works of archaeologists, paleontologists, historians, biologists, and geologists. Our sense of time has been stretched to seven digits into millions. Even though we are preparing for a grand celebration of the Ethiopian millennium, we all agree, thanks to the works of paleo-anthropologists, our time begins with the beginning of humanity. The evidence obtained from the Afar region, among other useful sites in the vast Rift Valley, suggests that southeast Ethiopia may have been the cradle of human beings. In other words, our sense of time has expanded beyond the 2000 years we want to acknowledge with grand celebration. Simply put, we are a million years old people. Such a time scale should help us to place our present language based differences in a proper perspective. We are time-endowed people with a claim to uninterrupted long human development.  

Reckoning of time in the past, primarily concentrates on the events and traditions of northern Ethiopia. Of course, we salute the contribution of the Ethiopian Orthodox Church in the establishment and keeping of the time period that we know as Amate Mehret (Year of Mercy). We are grateful to them mapping out a time scale that embraces our conception and understanding of werat, ametat, and zemenat. We are also appreciative of the Church for the maintenance of Zemene Fitrit. Just as we recognize the diversity of our people, it is equally important to recognize the diverse reckoning of time by Ethiopians. Thanks to the Ethiopian Muslim chroniclers, time and events in the lowlands, coastal regions and in the southeastern part of the country have been recorded based on Islamic calendar. The Oromos have Gada system of time and community organizations based on age-grade. There may be numerous other ways of time reckoning in our country and we should study them and find ways of incorporating into our Ethiopian collective sense of time.  

As I pointed out earlier, it is increasingly becoming clear that our sense of time has been greatly influenced by the discovery of early human fossils in the southeast part of the country. Dinqnesh (She has multiple names, including Lucy) has permanently registered in our psyche a sense of ancestral and resultant diversity. We do not argue about the ethnic origin of our eponymous ancestors. Time has placed them at the center of our origin and it will not be honest if we fail to include the ancestors in our calculation of self and community regardless of our immediate identity. Besides, Dinqnesh is the mother of all mothers and all the 6 billion people on earth can claim her. She is the universal ancestor and it is exciting to note that our beginning, given its universal dimension, as I stated earlier, is postmodern, postpositive, if I may use the discourse of our age. The tribal and ethnic entity that we currently debate about is subdued by time. Time ties us together.  

To organize our time, we may want to establish four general divisions: millions, thousands, millenniums, and centuries. Millions refer to the time period for the emergence of our ancestors. The foundation of our diversity is established during this period. Our ancestors moved in and out of our motherland in search of suitable locations for habitation. Significant human evolution has also taken place during this period.  

Thousands coincide with the emergence of modern human beings. Researchers such as Sileshi Semaw have found reliable evidence to affirm our modernity. During this time, there was a movement out of Africa to populate the rest of the world. The process continued until thirty or forty thousand years ago.  

Millenniums are regarded as a revolutionary period because the ancestors of this period succeeded in domesticating plants and animals. They were even credited for establishing one of the original sources of plant and animal species. Thanks to their diligent work, we now have four main occupations associated with our ecology: grain producers, meat and milk producers, inset producers and fishers. Oral traditions have also identified, together with some recorded history, the period as time of empire and international trade. Here I am particularly referring to Queen Makeda and her journey to Jerusalem.  

Centuries are a time period measured in centuries. This is the period of great written and oral records. It is a period of events, including reorganization, tumultuous interaction, royal rule and egalitarian social formation. As we transition to the Ethiopian millennium, we should strive to cultivate participatory democracy.  

Let me make another observation regarding the Ethiopian chronology or detailed recorded time lines of our past. The study of ancient Egypt begins with ancient Egyptian chronology, which was developed by Manetho in the third century B.C., at least 2, 800 years after the establishment of the first dynasty. Manetho identified thirty Egyptian dynasties in the historical period of 3100 years. The dynasties were divided into three major kingdoms: old, middle and new Egyptian kingdoms. Regardless of the location of the capitals of the dynasties, they always remained Egyptian dynasties and not Memphite, Thebite, or Napatan dynasties. The benefit of the Egyptian chronology is that it ties all the dynasties as one historical epoch. This is not what we find with Ethiopian chronology.  

The name of the chronology shifts with the changing capitals of the Ethiopian rulers. We have chronological time calculated on the basis of events that took place in the northern part of Ethiopia, such as Damot, Aksum, Zagwe, Gondar, and Shoa. Even then the names of the different periods in the chronology give an impression as if there is no continuity or relations.  

Furthermore, the chronology does not present the whole historical time encompassing all Ethiopian historical events. I am proposing to reckon and organize Ethiopian time in such a way that we will have Ethiopian Time I at Afar (4.4 million years to 18, 000 years), Ethiopian Time II at Teffland, Ensetland, and Pastoral land (18, 000 years to 1, 000 years), Ethiopian Time III at Damot (1,000 years to 300 BCE), Ethiopian Time IV at Aksum (300 BCE to 1,000 CE), Ethiopian Time V at Zagwe (1200 to 1400 CE), Ethiopian Time VI of Oromo Kingdoms, Afar Sultanates and others (1400 to 1600 CE), Ethiopian Time VII at Gondar (1600 to 1800), Ethiopian Time at Kaffa, Konso, Anuak, Shoa and other states as well as the movement towards a federal republic (1800 to Present). This new proposal also helps us to incorporate all Ethiopian autonomous states, such as Kaffa kingdom, Jotte kingdom, Afar Sultanate, particularly in the southern part of Ethiopia.  

As we prepare to celebrate the Ethiopian millennium, it is perhaps appropriate to place our historical time in order. It is also important to organize our historical time so as to promote “the cardinal rule of unity in diversity.”  

Our sense of time should assist us to develop a sense of unity. It is important to remember that we are celebrating our second millennium where we can demonstrate continuous and free living. It is an important mark of time that certainly deserves a big celebration. However, we should always be aware of the fact that our age is measured in millions of years. That should also help us to place all our immediate differences in some kind of proper perspective.

———————

About the Author:  Ayele Bekerie was born in Ethiopia, and earned his Ph.D. in African American Studies at Temple University in 1994. He has written and published in scholarly journals, such as , ANKH: Journal of Egyptology and African Civilizations, Journal of Black Studies, The International Journal of Africana Studies, and Imhotep. He is an Assistant Professor at the Africana Studies and Research Center of Cornell University. He is also a regular contributor to Tadias Magazine.

Above: Illustration by Ezra Wube (www.ezraart.net)

Starbucks has backed down from its bid to block Ethiopia’s attempt to trademark three types of coffee bean in the US, according to a joint statement by Ethiopia and the US coffee chain.

The announcement comes after months of public relations battle, which included dueling videos released on You Tube by Starbucks and Oxfam last month.

Ethiopia filed its applications to trademark its most famous coffee bean names - Sidamo, Harar and Yirgacheffe - in US courts last year.

Starbucks said it respects the right and choice of Ethiopia to trademark its coffee brands. 

“Starbucks will not oppose Ethiopia’s efforts to obtain trademarks for its specialty coffees–Sidamo, Harar/Harrar and Yirgacheffe–and its efforts to create a network of licensed distributors”, said the joint statement.

Read the Joint Statement.

 —————-

About the Author:

Liben Eabisa is the Founder & Publisher of Tadias Magazine.

By Tseday Alehegn

Above: Tseday Alehegn during her walks through Harlem with Tesfaye Tessema

Before arriving at Artist Tesfaye’s studio in Harlem, his home of twenty years, we took a tour of historic areas where Ethiopian and African-American ties runs deep and undisturbed. We traversed slowly and observantly across Adam Clayton Powell Boulevard, named after the fiery pastor of Harlem’s legendary Abyssinian Baptist Church, and walked through African Square, lined with colorful West African vendors and stores. Continuing our promenade towards Lenox Avenue, we spotted an Ethiopian-owned cafe called Settepani, a popular hangout for Harlem’s young elite. As we strolled by Jackie Robinson’s Park, a young African American man, recognizing our Ethiopian ancestry, smiled and greeted us with a hearty “Tenastelegn!”

Above: Top left, Jackie Robinson’s Park; Middle Right, Harlem’s legendary Abyssinian Baptist Church. Photos by Tseday Alehegn

Walking through Harlem with Tess (as he is known in Harlem), two things become quickly evident: The first being that this neighborhood has, as the artist tells us, “a feeling of home.” And the latter, that his love for this community fuels his art.

Above: Tseday Alehegn in Brooklyn, New York (Photo by Liben Eabisa)

Ethiopia, also called Yaltopya, Cush, and Abyssinia, stands as the oldest, continuous, black civilization on earth, and the second oldest civilization in history after China. This home of mine has been immortalized in fables, legends, and epics. Homer’s Illiad, Aristotle’s A Treatise on Government, Miguel Cervante’s Don Quixote, the Bible, the Koran, and the Torah are but a few potent examples of Ethiopia’s popularity in literature. But it is in studying the historical relations between African Americans and Ethiopians that I came to understand ‘ Ethiopia’ as a ray of light. Like the sun, Ethiopia has spread its beams on black nations across the globe. Her history is carefully preserved in dust-ridden books, in library corners and research centers. Her beauty is caught by a photographer’s discerning eye, her spirituality revived by priests and preachers. Ultimately, however, it is the oral journals of our elders that helped me capture glitters of wisdom that would palliate my thirst for a panoptic and definitive knowledge.

The term ‘Ethiopian’ has been used in a myriad of ways; it is attributed to the indigenous inhabitants of the land located in the Eastern Horn of Africa, as well as more generally denotive of individuals of African descent. Indeed, at one time, the body of water now known as the Atlantic Ocean was known as the Ethiopian Ocean. And it was across this very ocean that the ancestors of African Americans were brought to America and the ‘ New World.’

Early African American Writers

Although physically separated from their ancestral homeland and amidst the opprobrious shackles of slavery, African American poets, writers, abolitionists, and politicians persisted in forging a collective identity, seeking to link themselves figuratively if not literally to the African continent. One of the first published African American writers, Phillis Wheatly, sought refuge in referring to herself as an “Ethiop”. Wheatley, an outspoken poet, was also one of the earliest voices of the anti-slavery movement, and often wrote to newspapers of her passion for freedom. She eloquently asserted, “In every human breast God has implanted a principle, it is impatient of oppression.” In 1834 another anti-slavery poet, William Stanley Roscoe, published his poem “The Ethiop” recounting the tale of an African fighter ending the reign of slavery in the Caribbean. Paul Dunbar’s notable “Ode to Ethiopia,” published in 1896, was eventually put to music by William Grant Still and performed in 1930 by the Afro-American Symphony. In his fiery anti-slavery speech entitled “What to the Slave is the Fourth of July?” prominent black leader Frederick Douglas blazed at his opponents, “Africa must rise and put on her yet unwoven garment. Ethiopia shall stretch out her hand unto God.”

First Ethiopians Travel to America

As African Americans fixed their gaze on Ethiopia, Ethiopians also traveled to the ‘New World’ and learned of the African presence in the Americas. In 1808 merchants from Ethiopia arrived at New York’s famous Wall Street. While attempting to attend church services at the First Baptist Church of New York, the Ethiopian merchants, along with their African American colleagues, experienced the ongoing routine of racial discrimination. As an act of defiance against segregation in a house of worship, African Americans and Ethiopians organized their own church on Worth Street in Lower Manhattan and named it Abyssinia Baptist Church. Adam Clayton Powell, Sr. served as the first preacher, and new building was later purchased on Waverly Place in the West Village before the church was moved to its current location in Harlem. Scholar Fikru Negash Gebrekidan likewise notes that, along with such literal acts of rebellion, anti slavery leaders Robert Alexander Young and David Walker published pamphlets entitled Ethiopian Manifesto and Appeal in 1829 in an effort to galvanize blacks to rise against their slave masters.

When Italian colonialists encroached on Ethiopian territory and were soundly defeated in the Battle of Adwa on March 1, 1896, it became the first African victory over a European colonial power, and the victory resounded loud and clear among compatriots of the black diaspora. “For the oppressed masses Adwa…would become a cause célèbre,” writes Gebrekidan, “a metaphor for racial pride and anti-colonial defiance, living proof that skin color or hair texture bore no significance on intellect and character.” Soon, African Americans and blacks from the Caribbean Islands began to make their way to Abyssinia. In 1903, accompanied by Haitian poet and traveler Benito Sylvain, an affluent African American business magnate by the name of William Henry Ellis arrived in Ethiopia to greet and make acquaintances with Emperor Menelik. A prominent physician from the West Indies, Dr. Joseph Vitalien, also journeyed to Ethiopia and eventually became the Emperor’ trusted personal physician.

For black America, the early 1900s was a time consumed with the notion of “returning to Africa,” to the source. With physical proof of the beginnings of colonial demise, a charismatic and savvy Jamaican immigrant and businessman named Marcus Garvey established his grassroots organization in 1917 under the title United Negro Improvement Association (UNIA) with branches in various states. Using the success of Ethiopia’s independence as a beacon of freedom for blacks residing in the Americas, Garvey envisioned a shipping business that would raise enough money and register members to volunteer to be repatriated to Africa. In a few years time, Garvey’s UNIA raised approximately ten million dollars and boasted an impressive membership of half a million individuals.

Notable civil rights leader Malcolm X began his autobiography by mentioning his father, Reverend Earl Little, as a staunch supporter of the UNIA. “It was only me that he sometimes took with him to the Garvey U.N.I.A. meetings which he held quietly in different people’s homes,” says Malcolm. “I can remember hearing of ‘ Africa for the Africans,’ ‘Ethiopians, Awake!’” Malcolm’s early association with Garvey’s pan-African message resonated with him as he schooled himself in reading, writing, and history. “I can remember accurately the very first set of books that really impressed me,” Malcolm professes, “J.A. Rogers’ three volumes told about Aesop being a black man who told fables; about the great Coptic Christian Empires; about Ethiopia, the earth’s oldest continuous black civilization.”

By the time the Ethiopian government had decided to send its first official diplomatic mission to the United States, Marcus Garvey had already emblazoned an image of Ethiopia into the minds and hearts of his African American supporters. “I see a great ray of light and the bursting of a mighty political cloud which will bring you complete freedom,” he promised them, and they in turn eagerly propagated his message.

The Harlem Renaissance & Emigrating to Ethiopia

In 1919 an official Ethiopian goodwill mission was sent to the United States, the first African delegation of diplomats, in hopes of creating amicable ties with the American people and government. The four-person delegation included Dadjazmatch Nadou, Ato Belanghetta Herouy Wolde Selassie, Kantiba Gabrou, and Ato Sinkas. Having been acquainted with African Americans such as businessman William Ellis, Kantiba Gabrou, the mayor of Gondar, made a formal appeal during his trip for African Americans to emigrate to Ethiopia. Arnold Josiah Ford, a Harlem resident from Barbados, had an opportunity to meet the 1919 Ethiopian delegation. Having already heard of the existence of black Jews in Ethiopia, Ford established his own synagogue for the black community soon after meeting the Ethiopian delegation. Along with a Nigerian-born bishop named Arthur Wentworth Matthews, Ford created the Commandment Keepers Church on 123rd Street in Harlem and taught the congregation about the existence of black Jews in Ethiopia. Meanwhile, in the international spotlight, 1919 was the year the League of Nations was created, of which Ethiopia became the first member from the African continent.The mid 1900s gave birth to the Harlem Renaissance. With many African Americans migrating to the north in search of a segregation-free life, and a large contention of black writers, actors, artists and singers gathering in places like Harlem, a new culture of black artistic expression thrived. Even so, the Harlem Renaissance was more than just a time of literary discussions and hot jazz; it represented a confluence of creativity summoning forth the humanity and pride of blacks in America – a counterculture subverting the grain of thought ‘separate and unequal.’

In November 1930, Taffari Makonnen was coronated as Emperor of Ethiopia. The event blared on radios, and Harlemites heard and marveled at the ceremonies of a black king. The emperor’s face glossed the cover of Time Magazine, which remarked on “negro newsorgans” in America hailing the king “as their own.” African American pilot Hubert Julian, dubbed “The Black Eagle of Harlem,” had visited Ethiopia and attended the coronation. Describing the momentous occasion to Time Magazine, Hubert rhapsodized:

“When I arrived in Ethiopia the King was glad to see me… I took off with a French pilot… We climbed to 5,000 ft. as 50,000 people cheered, and then I jumped out and tugged open my parachute… I floated down to within 40 ft. of the King, who incidentally is the greatest of all modern rulers… He rushed up and pinned the highest medal given in that country on my breast, made me a colonel and the leader of his air force — and here I am!”

Joel Augustus Rogers, famed author and correspondent for New York’s black newspaper Amsterdam News, also covered the Coronation of Haile Selassie and was likewise presented with a coronation medal.

After his official coronation, Emperor Haile Selassie sent forth the first wave of Ethiopian students to continue their education abroad. Melaku Beyan was a member of the primary batch of students sent to America in the 1930s. He attended Ohio State University and later received his medical degree at Howard Medical School in Washington, D.C. During his schooling years at Howard, he forged lasting friendships with members of the black community and, at Emperor Haile Selassie’s request, he endeavored to enlist African American professionals to work in Ethiopia. Beyan was successful in recruiting several individuals, including teachers Joseph Hall and William Jackson, as well as physicians Dr. John West and Dr. Reuben S. Young, the latter of whom began a private practice in Ethiopia’s capital, Addis Ababa, prior to his official assignment as a municipal health officer in Dire Dawa, Harar.

Italo-Ethiopian War 1935-1941

By the mid 1930s the Emperor had sent a second diplomatic mission to the U.S. Vexed at Italy’s consistently aggressive behavior towards his nation, Haile Selassie attempted to forge stronger ties with America. Despite being a member of the League of Nations, Italy disregarded international law and invaded Ethiopia in 1935. The Ethiopian government appealed for support at the League of Nations and elsewhere, through representatives such as the young, charismatic speaker Melaku Beyan in the United States. Beyan had married an African American activist, Dorothy Hadley, and together they created a newspaper called Voice of Ethiopia to simultaneously denounce Jim Crow in America and fascist invasion in Ethiopia. Joel Rogers, the correspondent who had previously attended the Emperor’s coronation, returned to Ethiopia as a war correspondent for The Pittsburgh Courier, then America’s most widely-circulated black newspaper. Upon returning to the United States a year later, he published a pamphlet entitled The Real Facts About Ethiopia, a scathing and uncompromising report on the destruction caused by Italian troops in Ethiopia. Melaku Beyan used the pamphlet in his speaking tours, while his wife Dorothy designed and passed out pins that read “Save Ethiopia.”

In Harlem, Chicago, and various other cities African American churches urged their members to speak out against the invasion. Beyan established at least 28 branches of the newly-formed Ethiopian World Federation, an organ of resistance calling on Ethiopians and friends of Ethiopia throughout the United States, Europe, and the Caribbean. News of Ethiopia’s plight fueled indignation and furious debates among African Americans. Touched by the Emperor’s speech at the League of Nations, Roger’s accounts, and Melaku’s impassioned message, blacks vowed to support Ethiopia. Still others wrote letters to Haile Selassie, some giving advice, others support and commentary. “I pray that you will deliver yourself from crucifixion,” wrote one black woman from Los Angeles, “and show the whites that they are not as civilized as they loudly assert themselves to be.”

Although the United States was not officially in support of Ethiopia, scores of African Americans attempted to enlist to fight in Ethiopia. Unable to legally succeed on this front, several individuals traveled to Ethiopia on ‘humanitarian’ grounds. Author Gail Lumet Buckley cites two African American pilots, John Robinson and the ‘Black Eagle of Harlem’ Hubert Julian, who joined the Ethiopian Air Corps, then made up of only three non-combat planes. John Robinson, a member of the first group of black students that entered Curtis Wright Flight School, flew his plane delivering medical supplies to different towns across the country. Blacks in America continued to stand behind the Emperor and organized medical supply drives from New York’s Harlem Hospital. Melaku Beyan and his African American counterparts remained undeterred for the remainder of Ethiopia’s struggle against colonization. In 1940, a year before Ethiopia’s victory against Italy, Melaku Beyan succumbed to pneumonia, which he had caught while walking door-to-door in the peak of winter, speaking boldly about the war for freedom in Ethiopia.

Lasting Legacies: Ties That Bind

Traveling through Harlem in my mind’s eye, I see the mighty organs of resistance that played such a pivotal role in “keeping aloft” the banner of Ethiopia and fostering deep friendships among blacks in Africa and America. I envision the doors Melaku Beyan knocked on as he passed out pamphlets; the pulpits on street corners where Malcolm X stood preaching about the strength and beauty of black people, fired up by the history he read. The Abyssinia Baptist Church stands today bigger and bolder, and inside you find the most exquisite Ethiopian cross, a gift from the late Emperor to the people of Harlem and a symbol of love and gratitude for their support and friendship.

Several Coptic churches line the streets of Harlem, and the ancient synagogue of the Commandment Keepers established by Arnold Ford continues to have Sabbath services. The offices of the Amsterdam News are still as busy as ever, recording and recounting the past and present state of black struggles. Over the years, the Schomburg Center for Research in Black Culture has carefully preserved the photographic proofs of the ties that bind African Americans and Ethiopians, just in case the stories told are too magical to grasp.The name ‘Ethiopia’ conjures a kaleidoscope of images and verbs. In researching the historical relations between African Americans and Ethiopians, I learned that Ethiopia is synonymous with ‘freedom,’ ‘black dignity’ and ‘self-worth.’ In the process, I looked to my elders and heeded the wisdom they have to share. In his message to the grassroots of Detroit, Michigan, Malcolm X once asserted, “Of all our studies, history is best qualified to reward our research.” It is this kernel of truth that propelled me to share this rich history in celebration of Black History Month and the victory of Adwa.

In attempting to understand what Ethiopia really means, I turn to Ethiopia’s Poet Laureate Tsegaye Gabre-Medhin. “The Ethiopia of rich history is the heart of Africa’s civilization,” he said. “She is the greatest example of Africa’s pride. Ethiopia means peace. The word ‘ Ethiopia’ emanates from a connection of three old black Egyptian words, Et, Op and Bia, meaning truth and peace, up and upper, country and land. Et-Op-Bia is land of upper truth or land of higher peace.”

This is my all-time, favorite definition of Ethiopia, because it brings us back to our indigenous African roots: The same roots that African Americans and black people in the diaspora have searched for; the same roots from which we have sprung and grown into individuals rich in confidence. Welcome to blackness. Welcome to Ethiopia!

Above: Addis Gessesse at home (Photo by Ayda Grima for Tadias Magazine)

Hanna Gessesse points to a photograph in one of her father’s albums. The photograph was taken two years ago in Addis Ababa and shows the main stage of the Africa Unite concert, which was the brainchild of her father, Addis. On the giant backdrop behind the stage hangs a larger-thanlife mural of a legendary reggae singer.

“That’s Bob Marley,” says Hanna. At three years old, Hanna is like most children her age. She complains when a certain reporter steals her father for an interview in their backyard. “I want to go with you, Daddy,” she cries. “Daddy, pleeeeease!”

But in being able to recognize Bob Marley’s likeness, even when drawn rather crudely as it was on the backdrop, she is definitely unlike most other toddlers her age. But perhaps it’s not so surprising to those who know her father, Addis Gessesse – music manager of Rita Marley and most of the Marley family and man behind the landmark Africa Unite concert. The concert, and the other month-long series of events, saw half-a-million people crowd the streets of Addis Ababa to watch the Marley Family, the I-Threes, Baaba Maal, and Angelique Kidjo perform in celebration of Bob Marley’s 60th Birthday.

One of the biggest and most starstudded African concerts the continent has ever seen started out, six years ago, as little more than a vague dream in the mind of