To My Oromo-Somali Friend, I Am Sorry.
Weeks after the conflict in Tigray started, I called my friend and said “I am sorry. I am sorry for failing to see through your experience but most of all for questioning it.”
Three years prior to this phone conversation, I was sitting in a cozy coffee shop in a nice little neighborhood in Miami. My esteemed friend and I were enjoying our coffee and having a heart felt conversation about various topics. I have the highest regard for this man. He is a well-informed, well- read, and well-adjusted person whose judgement I generally trust.
Our conversation eventually landed on the topic of Socio-political issues in Ethiopia — we are Horn of Africans after all.
I must admit, as I had in my previous writings, that I am a person of little to no knowledge of informed and researched politics (I am working on it now though) nor did I have any appetite for it. Out of all the things we talked of that day, one thing remained stuck in my head — How “chill” he was about Ethiopia and what a heated patriot I was.
I lived everything Ethiopian. I loved the food, the flag, the music, the diversity, the eco-system, the history, the people and accepted everything I was made to believe with no questions. I had never felt any type of animosity towards the concept of “Ethiopianess”.
He tried to explain to me, perhaps for the zillion times in our friendship history, why he did not match my zeal for the country we both hail from. One of those “Ethiopian” symbol I am beyond proud of is Geez — a script used for several Afro-Asiatic and Nilo-Saharan languages of Ethiopia and Eritrea. The usage of this script dates back to the 9th century BCE. & is an indigenous written art. My friend said it was cool that it was an African born alphabet but that he did not see the use of others in the country using. I argued, again, about why that should be so.
“I understand the reasons for using Latin alphabets and not Geez.” I said “But still, I think Geez alphabet is such a proud part of African history and as such everyone should try to use it!” I explained to him that even if I was from another African country, I would still have chosen to use Geez than Roman alphabets. If we are talking about oppression, we know very well, that the very people who thought us to use Roman alphabets have been the worst oppressors in human history. So why pick that?”
As our conversation got heated, he said “you know what, growing up, when Ethiopia had soccer matches with other countries like Sudan, my friends and I used to support the other country. That was how much we felt we did not belong” he said. That was mind blowing to me. I thought of that to be a total lack loyalty to country and sovereignty that required some heavenly intervention.
My friend was born and raised in Harar. His family’s ethnic background is Oromo with some Somali. He has embraced both proudly. He speaks a number of ethnic dialects — which is more than I could say.
I respected his views, of course. But my respect was from what I thought it meant to be a “well balanced person with tolerance for differences”. It was not from human to human connection or giving a serious consideration to how he actually felt. It wasn’t from a point of me acknowledging his as his and not see it just from my own angle.
Mind you, my friend did not confuse his desire for justice, equality, fairness & representation with bitterness. He was not bitter about his experience but he was determined. He was reasonably happy to be Ethiopian. But his Ethiopianess came with questions, cautions, the desire to fix the wrong and re-tell his own history.
As the war on Tigray raged on and as I personally continued to experience lose of family members, I was kept awake during nights worried of what news we would be getting, I couldn’t get that conversation I had with my friend out of my head.
For the first time in my life, I questioned my identity. My frustration grew as it seemed like only Tigrayans were sounding alarm to the potential damage of a war. This wasn’t the Ethiopia I believed in. This was a whole new experience. All of us Tegaru seemed to have been summed up as TPLF. And what if we were? was the cruelest form of crimes against humanity what TPLF supporters deserved? Our families in Mekelle were reporting back to us on how they were witnessing murder, rape & their properties looted primarily by Eritrean army — with video or pictures evidences. This part of our story was met with a very strong “But who really told you that? Why are you even mentioning Eritrea” or “You heard the PM, there were absolutely NO causalities”. Our first hand witness accounts were believed to be fictional, an exaggerations or as temporary tantrum that would just go away with time.
Meanwhile, the number of Tigrayan friends and families who were getting news of dead loved ones was increasing. Still, the words of a politician was much more believable than mine & my family’s. I felt helpless. I felt an anger I had never felt before towards my fellow country men & women. I was mad at humanity in general — how cruel can we be? How blind are we to trust so fully and wholly in one man? What about the 6 million people of Tigray who were put in a total darkness? What about their voice? Can you hear their cries — our cries? Can you put your politics aside for a moment and ask me about my uncle and his five kids in Adwa? Where are they? What are they eating, are they alive, are his daughters okay? How does one expect a poor country to survive with no food, job, or money for 4 months?
Is the story of my friend who lost two nephews from the same sister a lie? Do you see your morale? How can there be such a disregard for first had witnesses account of an entire ethnic group? A mother losing two civilian teenager boys. How is this politicized?
How are self-proclaimed Ethiopian feminists not completely & immediately outraged over the report of rape coming from the region? Does this even need investigation? It is a well-known fact that women & girls are primary victim during such crisis. Do we need a World Bank or Amnesty International’s research findings before the rest of the country demanded that the region be open immediately with no further delay?
How? How? How?
So, one day, I picked my phone to call that same friend & apologize from the bottom of my heart. I was broken. He was more compassionate & understanding than I deserved. I felt so un-Ethiopian and even said to him how I was hoping Sudan would win, not just in a soccer match but if Ethiopia goes to war with it. He was quite for some time and said with a deep sad tone “It truly saddens me to see how we are doing this wrong all over again. If we have had learned from history, I would have been more like the old you with more passion towards the country we all share. You shouldn’t have come to my world”.
