Amhara people pine for the Ethiopia of old
Despite appearances of restored calm, Ethiopia’s state of emergency has further antagonised many Amhara, who remain unconvinced by the government’s efforts at reform.
Fierce pride
A statue of 19th century Ethiopian Emperor Tewodros, a hero to many Ethiopians, dominates the center of Gondar. The Amhara still remember how they ruled Ethiopia until the present-day Tigrayan-led government took over in 1991. "We have no sovereignty," says Gondar resident Kidus, "Hence our cry of protest: Amharaneut Akbiru! Respect Amhara-ness!"
Rebels with a cause
Young men like Henok and Dawit talk scathingly of the Ethiopian government’s state of emergency which was declared in October 2016 and recently extended. They also complain about the current ban on the older, pan-Ethiopian national flag. But they are full of praise for a professed Amhara resistance movement of armed farmers. "They’re like snipers with their guns," Henok says.
Glory days of old
Gonder was once the seat of power in Ethiopia: a city of grand castles, banquets, pomp and ceremony. Nowadays, as soon as one leaves the city’s main roads, one is struck by the poverty. "Inflation is getting worse, and the government only increases the salaries of a few sectors," says hotel manager Stephanos. Locals complain the government is not investing enough in the city.
The daily grind
"I wash cars, there’s no chance to get any other type of job," says 25-year-old Dawit. "I have a nursing diploma, but the government doesn’t want to give me a job, I’ve tried 100 times." Others make money however they can: boys and teenagers clean shoes, men solder metal work, women sell their bodies at night before heading to church the next day.
A world away from conflict
South of Gondar, in the Amhara regional capital of Bahir Dar, men prepare boats beside Lake Tana at dawn to ferry tourists to the island monasteries. Here tempers appear less frayed and more conciliatory. "People are tired of the trouble and want to get on with their lives," says Tesfaye, a tour operator.
Looking for a job
Beneath palm trees and sparkling sunshine, crowds gaze forlornly at job noticeboards. High levels of unemployment and poverty helped fuel last year’s protests. "The state of emergency has been 50/50," says Samrawit, 28, a local accountant. "It's been good at calming the situation, but it's not been good for people's freedom."
Animosity among the young
For people like Haile, who has a job with Ethio Telecom and can afford to splash out on a pair of jeans, it’s not just economic issues that are proving worrisome. "Three years ago I went to university and no one cared where you were from," Haile says. "Now Amhara and Tigray students are fighting with each other."
Protests in Bahir Dar
In 2016, demonstrators crossed this bridge over the Blue Nile on the outskirts of Bahir Dar, carrying palm tree leaves as a sign of peace. A few kilometers further on, the march ended when 52 unarmed protesters were shot by security forces. "Security forces suddenly emerged from buildings and shot into the march for no reason," says a local priest. "They were waiting for an excuse to shoot."
Missing out on the economic boom
A group of homeless men on the streets of Bahir Dar wake up beside a billboard advertising a new construction project that is unlikely to benefit them. "Grievances haven’t been addressed by the state of emergency or by the government’s commitment to tackle corruption and boost service delivery," says Terrence Lyons, a U.S. professor specializing in conflict analysis and resolution.
Informed society
More Ethiopians than ever have access to TV and the Internet. Hence Ethiopian society is inexorably becoming more freethinking and informed. "The time of the Derg was better, they took from the rich and gave to the people," says 65-year-old grandmother Indeshash, housebound in Gonder due to ongoing leg problems. "If my legs worked I would have protested."