The Ethiopian Constitution guarantees freedom of expression and of the press. The country has also adopted ratified such international instruments as the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights, and the African Charter on Human and Peoples’ Rights, all of which enshrine press freedom. Yet the lived reality for journalists and media houses is starkly different. Reporters are routinely harassed, detained, or prosecuted under sweeping laws that criminalize dissent. Media outlets struggle with political intimidation, limited access to information, and financial precarity. The cumulative effect is a shrinking private press, increasingly dwarfed by state-affiliated outlets that dominate the narrative.

The threat is not abstract. Several private newspapers and broadcasters have closed in recent years, unable to withstand economic pressures or political hostility. Those that remain often resort to self-censorship to avoid confrontation with authorities. This constriction of voices undermines the public’s right to diverse information and weakens Ethiopia’s democratic fabric. In a country as complex and divided as Ethiopia, silencing independent journalism is dangerous. Without a free press, corruption flourishes unchecked, grievances fester unacknowledged, and citizens lose the ability to hold leaders accountable.

The government bears primary responsibility for reversing this trajectory. It must move beyond rhetorical commitments to press freedom and take concrete steps to protect it. Laws that criminalize legitimate journalistic work should be reformed. It also needs to see to it that journalists do not face prosecution for reporting on sensitive issues or criticizing officials. It is further incumbent on it to guarantee access to information, with government institutions compelled to operate transparently. Economic support mechanisms, such as tax incentives or subsidies, could help private outlets survive in a challenging market. Above all, authorities are duty-bound to put an end to the culture of intimidation so that journalists can work without fear of harassment or violence.

At the same time, the private press itself must rise to the challenge. Professionalism and ethical standards are essential to building credibility and resilience. Media houses must invest in training, fact-checking, and investigative reporting. Collaboration among outlets is avital in terms of pooling resources and amplify voices. Diversifying revenue streams—through subscriptions, digital platforms, or partnerships—can reduce dependence on precarious advertising markets. Strengthening their own institutions is sure to go a long way towards enabling the private media better withstand external pressures and serve the public faithfully.

Civil society and international partners also have a role to play. Press freedom is not only a domestic issue; it is a global concern. Organizations that support journalism should provide training, funding, and advocacy. International pressure can help deter abuses and encourage reforms. Citizens, too, must recognize the value of independent journalism and support it, whether through subscriptions, readership, or solidarity. A free press serves the public interest, and its survival, depends on public commitment.

The stakes could not be higher. Ethiopia’s democratic experiment is fragile, and without a free press, it cannot succeed. Journalism is not a luxury; it is a necessity. It is the mechanism through which citizens are informed, leaders are held accountable, and society confronts its challenges honestly. To allow the private press to wither is to weaken democracy itself.

World Press Freedom Day should serve as a wake-up call. The government should act decisively to protect its private press, not only for the sake of journalists but also for the sake of its citizens and its future. The government must reform laws, guarantee access to information, and end intimidation. On its part the press ought to strengthen professionalism and resilience. Civil society and international partners also owe the obligation to provide support and advocacy. Together, these measures can contribute to ensuring that Ethiopia’s constitutional and international commitments to press freedom go beyond being hollow promises and actually are implemented in their letter and spirit.

The imperative is clear: press freedom must be defended, not assaulted as something which spells a danger for national security. Ethiopia’s private press is facing an existential threat, but it can be saved. The time to act is now, before silence replaces speech, before propaganda replaces truth, and before democracy itself is imperiled.

He calls for new regional elections, questions the legal standing of the TPLF, critiques the structure and inclusiveness of the Interim Administration, and reflects on the political consequences of the Pretoria Agreement.

The interview also explores shrinking civic space in Tigray, media restrictions, alleged tactical alignments with Eritrea, and the broader geopolitical tensions shaping the Horn of Africa. EXCERPTS:

The Reporter: How do you assess the current situation in Tigray and the region’s political condition after the war?

Haftu Kiros: Tigray today is a region whose condition is clear to everyone. There is very little hidden about what is happening there. Historically, Tigray has been known as a place distinguished by adherence to law and constitutional order, especially in implementing systems of governance. It was also known as a region where people of different faiths coexisted with mutual respect.

The people traditionally possessed a strong sense of statehood, constitutional culture, and civic morality. However, despite that history, what we see today in Tigray is a situation dominated by lawlessness. It has become a place where any gangster can come and claim governmental authority, confiscate citizens’ property, violate their rights, or declare territory as their own. If there is any place today where the fundamental rights of people are openly violated, it is Tigray.

At this point, Tigray has become a place where it is difficult to think confidently about tomorrow because people are uncertain about today’s reality. Tigrayan youth are leaving the region almost entirely. Except for those who may have no means of escape, very few people genuinely wish to remain living in Tigray under the current conditions.

What is your view of the 2020 Tigray regional election and the legitimacy of the government formed through it?

Elections were held in Tigray in 2012 E.C., and I was personally there at the time. If I remember correctly, around 2.8 million Tigrayans participated in that election. I considered that election legitimate because it was conducted constitutionally.

The Ethiopian Constitution clearly states that citizens must renew the mandate of a governing authority every five years through elections. That is the constitutional contract between citizens and government. Therefore, any government elected through that process receives a mandate only for five years. There is no constitutional provision allowing that mandate to continue indefinitely or to be renewed automatically without another election.

The conflict that later emerged in Tigray had many causes. It is difficult to identify a single fundamental cause because there were political, economic, and security-related problems both nationally and within Tigray itself. However, disputes surrounding governance legitimacy and elections became one of the immediate causes of the conflict.

What is your interpretation of the Pretoria Agreement and its political implications?
The Pretoria Agreement was signed only after immense destruction had already occurred, after many Ethiopian and Tigrayan youths had died, and after extensive property damage. The fundamental result and purpose of the agreement was peace—stopping the war and ending hostilities. Beyond that, it did not create an entirely new political arrangement.

In my view, the agreement effectively dissolved the government that had been elected in 2012 E.C. There is no such thing as a government being stored somewhere for four or five years and later “reactivated.” Sometimes even the TPLF itself refers to the matter as “unfinished” or “suspended” work, but I do not understand that characterization.

A governmental mandate is limited to five years. There is no constitutional mechanism that allows a government to pause its authority and later resume it after years have passed. Therefore, it is not possible to say that the government elected in 2012 E.C. can now simply be restored or reactivated.

As far as I understand, some people wanted to extend the TPLF’s mandate by another five years, but the question is: until when would that continue? The election was held six years ago. The political context has now completely changed.

What should happen politically in Tigray now?
What should happen now is very clear: a new election must be conducted in Tigray.

Even if we assume that the Pretoria Agreement never existed, the legal mandate of the previous administration has already expired. Therefore, constitutionally, a fresh election is necessary.

An election is not merely a formality or a procedural exercise. Elections are meant to capture new political voices, new alternatives, and the evolving interests of the people. Over the course of five years, major socioeconomic and political transformations take place, especially in a country like Ethiopia.

Generational changes also occur. Young people who were not eligible to vote five years ago are now voters. That means new political voices have emerged. Elections at both the federal and regional levels are supposed to reflect these changing realities and allow the public’s evolving interests and political preferences to be heard.

You have argued that Tigray’s current political structure no longer reflects public opinion. Why do you believe the existing administration lacks legitimacy and representation?

Whether at the federal or regional level, elections are meant to hear new political voices, alternatives, and the interests of the people; they are not merely procedures.

Let me state one fact. I was formerly the administrator of the Southern Tigray Zone, before I was forced out at gunpoint. I was literally removed under the barrel of a gun. Prior to that, I was serving there.

At the time, there were 16 representatives from that zone. How many of them are still participating now? Fewer than four; definitely fewer than four. As far as I know, only two are still there. The remaining 12 elected public representatives have either been replaced by other individuals, and that is precisely why I said lawlessness exists. They can appoint or select whomever they want—it doesn’t matter—but it is not the voice of the people. They are simply filling seats with individuals to occupy positions.

I am certain that if we examine the other zones, the situation is no better. First of all, Tigray currently has no rule of law and no functioning system. If there is any region today where someone can arrive carrying a gun and strip you of your rights through force, it is Tigray.It saddens me deeply.

What is your assessment of the Tigray Interim Administration and its ability to function independently?
Even from the beginning, the Interim Administration was never an independent institution. That was one of our main criticisms. According to the Pretoria Agreement, the Interim Administration was supposed to be inclusive. It was meant to incorporate different political voices and stakeholders.

But the reality on the ground was different. The Interim Administration was not inclusive at all. In fact, the same group—the TPLF—completely dominated it. For example, if you were to tell Debretsion today to continue in power, there would be nothing difficult about simply continuing with the same cabinet that exists under the current Interim Administration. That is because the Interim Administration itself functioned like a puppet structure from the start.

What I mean is that it was the TPLF leadership that determined the cabinet. They would say, “appoint this person as deputy,” and it would happen; “appoint that person as bureau head,” and it would happen. So even previously, the Interim Administration was never truly alive or independent, and now its weaknesses have become even more apparent.

Was this also the case during Getachew Reda’s presidency?

Not entirely. It is true that even during that period the group created many difficulties. However, during Getachew’s time, there were many new developments inside Tigray. For example, there was greater freedom of speech. Media outlets expanded significantly. Leaders could be criticized, evaluated, and questioned publicly. Different sectors could openly discuss issues. These were developments that had not existed under the previous system in Tigray.

Previously, such things were simply not allowed. Power was concentrated within the TPLF central committee and executive committee–and I say this as someone who was also part of the TPLF Central Committee myself. That is where the problems began.

When you are a leader in public administration, you are supposed to be a servant of the people. I have said this before: some people think being a president is something grand. It is not. Literally, being a president means carrying the people’s chair. It means serving the public and delivering services to society. Before Getachew, the system did not function in that spirit.

So during Getachew’s period, there were meaningful changes. But now, the media outlets that had newly emerged and opened up have all relocated to Addis Ababa because they were told there would be “zero tolerance.” Most independent media have left. The only outlets remaining there now are DimtsiWeyane and Television Tigray, which function as instruments of the TPLF.

That said, even during Getachew’s presidency, I cannot say the administration was inclusive to the extent it should have been. There were signs and indications of change, yes, but I would not describe it as fully inclusive. Nor can I say it was fully functional. From the lower levels up to the top leadership, the institutional structure was still not operating at the level it was supposed to.

Ethiopia is located in a highly turbulent region marked by proxy conflicts and shifting alliances. There are also discussions surrounding historical ties between the TPLF and Eritrea, as well as what some describe as emerging regional alignments. At the same time, the TPLF appears to send mixed signals, on one hand expressing willingness to negotiate with the federal government, while on the other advancing narratives that seem to regionalize the issue beyond Ethiopia. What is your assessment of these developments?

What you said is true. First of all, we need to clarify what kind of force this actually is. For that matter, I do not even call it the TPLF anymore, because the TPLF is no longer a legally recognized political organization. It no longer has legal standing. They may claim to be legal, but they are not, and that is precisely why I say lawlessness exists in Tigray today.

Fundamentally, we are one country. I believe Tigray is a regional state within Ethiopia, and Ethiopia is its country. Tigray is part of the federation. Since we are governed under a federal system, every region operates within that framework. Even if the system were unitary rather than federal, Ethiopia would still be one country and Tigray would remain part of it.

When the TPLF was a legal political actor and occupied a strong position within Ethiopia’s political order, it operated under the Constitution adopted at that time. That constitutional framework legally defined the political system. But now, they are no longer operating within that constitutional framework.

Under the Constitution, there are institutions established at the national level, and every regional state is part of those institutions. The Pretoria Agreement itself also says governance should proceed according to law and the Constitution. Some political ideas were included in the agreement, but fundamentally it is centered on constitutional order and legality. That is where legitimacy comes from. One cannot simply stand up and declare oneself a legal organization.

Whether it is a political organization or even a business organization, legitimacy in Ethiopia comes through Ethiopian law and legal procedures. What currently exists in Tigray does not derive its legitimacy from that framework. That is why I refer to the TPLF as a “group.”

You seem to suggest that the group now views itself as operating outside Ethiopia’s constitutional framework. Why do you believe that?

What this group is doing now reflects a mindset in which Ethiopia, a country it once embraced while it held strong political influence, is now being treated almost like a neighboring state rather than its own country.

The Ethiopian public needs to understand this clearly. In the thinking of this group today, Ethiopia is viewed as a neighbor, while Tigray is being treated as though it were already a sovereign state.

One reason for this is the statements they themselves have made. They have said they have “suspended” relations with the federal government, while simultaneously saying, “if the federal government wants to talk to us, we are ready.” There are many contradictions in these positions.

This group currently lacks legal legitimacy. Political authority must come from a legitimate legal body, and political power ultimately originates from the people. The TPLF’s authority today no longer comes from the people.

Even the so-called regional council currently operating in Tigray is illegal. I have already explained how people are inserted into the council arbitrarily rather than through lawful representation. The group claims legal status both as a governing body and as a political organization, but where does that legality come from?

You also raised concerns about the group’s external engagements and regional posture. What specifically worries you?

This issue goes beyond internal politics. One cannot simply declare statehood overnight. Sovereignty involves international legal and diplomatic dimensions.

What the TPLF is effectively doing now is behaving as though Tigray can independently suspend relations with the federal government and function as a separate entity. But foreign policy is a matter of state sovereignty; it is the responsibility of a country, not a regional administration.

Some TPLF elites attempt to frame Tigray’s situation through comparisons with Somaliland, but I do not believe Tigray should be viewed through a Somaliland lens. Tigray must be seen through the lens of Ethiopia.

Historically, invasions into Ethiopia have largely come through the northern corridor, and the people of Tigray have historically fought and sacrificed in defense of Ethiopian sovereignty and identity. Yet now, the TPLF is effectively telling the people that Tigray may not continue within Ethiopia if the group decides otherwise.

The group now signals that it can simultaneously maintain relations with Eritrea, Sudan, Egypt, and others, while also negotiating with the Ethiopian federal government whenever it chooses.

What is your view of the alleged alignment between the TPLF and Eritrea despite the destruction caused during the war?

When we observe current developments, there appears to be some form of alignment emerging between the TPLF and the Eritrean government. As both an Ethiopian and a Tigrayan, this deeply saddens me.

During the conflict, I myself was a combatant. Tigray experienced immense destruction during the war. I do not say this to compare suffering, but serious abuses and destruction occurred in Tigray. Those responsible, whether the TPLF itself, the federal government, Eritrea, or any other actor, should all be held accountable.

However, I do not believe any external actor caused more destruction in Tigray than Eritrea did. That is why I find the current relationship so troubling.

Even those advocating for the current alignment admit privately that the relationship is tactical rather than genuine. Their reasoning is essentially that the alliance with Eritrea exists only as long as it serves the purpose of weakening the federal government and influencing power in Addis Ababa. Beyond that, they themselves believe Eritrea would not remain aligned with them permanently.

Even Eritrea’s own history does not support the idea of a stable or lasting alliance of this kind.

The drivers of illegal migration from Ethiopia are multifaceted. Economic hardship remains the most powerful push factor. High unemployment, particularly among the youth, limited opportunities for decent work, and persistent poverty compel many to seek livelihoods abroad. For countless families, remittances from relatives working overseas are a lifeline, creating a powerful incentive to migrate despite the perils. Social pressures also play a role: migration is often seen as a path to upward mobility, with many communities celebrating those who succeed abroad and looking down on those who remain behind in poverty.

Conflict and instability compound these economic pressures. Ethiopia’s recent years of political turmoil and violence have displaced millions internally and created conditions where migration appears to be the only escape. For some, leaving the country is not merely motivated by the exigency of seeking opportunities but about fleeing insecurity. This desperation makes migrants more vulnerable to traffickers and smugglers who exploit their plight, promising safe passage but delivering them into exploitation, detention, or even death.

The allure of destinations such as Saudi Arabia and South Africa is also shaped by historical migration patterns. Ethiopia has long been a source of labor migration to the Gulf, particularly in domestic work. Networks of recruiters, both formal and informal, facilitate this flow, often with little regard for legality or safety. In South Africa, Ethiopians who have established small businesses and communities now face rising xenophobic violence that has turned their pursuit of opportunity into a struggle for survival. These established pathways, combined with limited legal migration channels, perpetuate irregular movement.

Addressing this phenomenon requires a multi-pronged strategy. Expanding economic opportunities is paramount. It is vital to deepen existing job creation initiatives, especially for youth, through investment in industries that can absorb labor, such as agriculture, manufacturing, and services. At the same time skills development programs need to be scaled up to prepare workers for both domestic and international markets. Making staying home a viable option can go some way towards reducing the desperation that induces irregular migration.

Governance reforms are equally essential. Conflict and instability are major drivers of migration, and without peace, no economic strategy is likely to succeed. All the actors behind the violence raging in Ethiopia must commit to ending hostilities, strengthening rule e of law, and ensuring that citizens feel secure in their own country. Political reconciliation and inclusive governance are not only moral imperatives but also practical necessities for reducing migration pressures.

Migration management systems also need strengthening. Legal pathways already in place, which govern safe and regulated labor mobility for migration, should be expanded so as to cover more destination countries with a view to ensure protections for Ethiopian workers, mechanisms for dispute resolution, and guarantees against exploitation. At the same time, it is especially incumbent on the government to ratchet up its crack down on traffickers and unscrupulous recruiters who prey on vulnerable migrants and public awareness campaigns that help citizens understand the risks of irregular migration and the importance of using legal channels.

Furthermore, consular support for citizens abroad ought to be enhanced. Migrants facing detention, exploitation, or violence need effective representation and assistance. The government thus has to ramp up the resources dedicated to diplomatic missions to do a far better job of protecting nationals and advocating for their rights. In cases like Saudi Arabia, where executions loom, it must mobilize international pressure, appealing to human rights norms and engaging allies to intervene. Silence or inaction in the face of such threats is unacceptable.

International cooperation is another critical dimension. Accordingly, the government must ramp up its cooperation with such partners as the African Union, the United Nations, and donor states to address migration as a shared responsibility. Support for economic development, conflict resolution, and migration management can help reduce pressures at home. Regional cooperation is also vital, as migration flows often cross multiple borders. As such the country should champion collective approaches that balance the rights of migrants with the needs of host communities.

The recent tragedies in Saudi Arabia and South Africa are stark reminders of the stakes. Migrants are not statistics; they are human beings whose lives are cut short by desperation, exploitation, and violence. Their country owes the duty to honor their memory by confronting the conditions that drive its citizens to risk everything abroad. Illegal migration is not inevitable; it is the product of choices—choices by governments, societies, and individuals. Making different choices—investing in opportunity, securing peace, protecting rights—are sure to make headway in changing the trajectory.

The imperative is clear. Transitional justice, national dialogue, and economic reform are all part of Ethiopia’s broader struggle for stability. But migration must be part of that agenda too. The cost of neglect is measured in lives lost in foreign prisons and foreign streets. The time to act is now, before more Ethiopians pay the ultimate price for seeking dignity beyond their borders.

It was a quiet morning at Grace Care Homes in Addis Ababa when, for one elderly resident, the haze of dementia briefly receded. The change came not through medication or intervention, but through music.

As the opening chords of “Astawesalew,” a classic performed by Lemma Demissew during the golden era of Amharic music, drifted through the corridors, the woman rose from her seat. She moved toward the musicians, asked for the song by name, and began to sing. Moments later, she was dancing—her memory, if only temporarily, restored by melody. For relatives and staff gathered nearby, the scene was striking in its immediacy.

That moment would go on to inspire Kine-Fews, an Addis Ababa–based initiative founded in April 2023 that explores the therapeutic power of art and music.

Positioned at the intersection of psychology and the arts, Kine-Fews reflects a growing body of research that recognizes art therapy as an evidence-based complement to mental health care.

In Ethiopia, where access to formal psychiatric services remains limited, the initiative’s founders—graduates of Addis Ababa University’s colleges of Behavioral Science and Performing Arts—have turned to creative practice as a means of addressing psychological distress. Its name encapsulates that mission: kine (art) and fews (healing).

“It was an emotional moment that pushed us to recognize the healing potential of art and music,” said Alazar Tesfaye, the initiative’s founder and manager.

Under his direction, Kine-Fews has assembled a multidisciplinary team that includes singers, instrumentalists, architects, medical doctors and professional psychologists.

The initiative’s premise is supported, in part, by academic research. Moges Ayele, a psychology professor at Addis Ababa University, notes that music can serve as a powerful cognitive cue, linking rhythm and melody to personal and factual memory.

“Drawing or painting can also help individuals externalize emotion,” he said. “It creates visual associations that support recall and expression.” While Ethiopia lacks extensive longitudinal studies on the subject, he added, international research suggests that art therapy is most effective when integrated with conventional treatment models.

Moges cautioned, however, that such interventions require professional oversight. “Art therapy can be a potent tool,” he said, “but only when delivered by trained practitioners.”

Kine-Fews attempts to follow that model. The group collects participant feedback, including pre- and post-session self-assessments, alongside facilitator observations. According to Alazar, the data—though still limited—points to consistent reductions in stress and anxiety, suggesting that creative engagement can help regulate emotional states.

The approach also intersects with a broader social challenge. In Ethiopia, mental health conditions are often stigmatized, leaving many individuals reluctant to seek help or unable to articulate their experiences. Kine-Fews, Alazar said, was designed in part to address that gap.

“Not everyone can express what they feel in words,” he said. “Art creates another pathway—one that feels safe, communal and, at times, even playful.”

He added that participants, ranging from children to older adults, often show marked improvements in their willingness to engage and communicate. Group painting sessions, in particular, appear to foster openness, as individuals gradually move from observation to participation.

One participant in the “Brush & Balance” program—where guided painting sessions are facilitated by trained counselors—described the experience as a form of externalization. The act of painting, they said, allowed them to “see their internal weight take a physical form on the canvas,” rendering it more manageable.

The integration of the arts into medical and therapeutic practice is no longer peripheral. Institutions such as the World Health Organization and the African Union have increasingly framed artistic practice as a legitimate component of public health strategy.

In 2019, the WHO published a scoping review of more than 3,000 studies, concluding that creative disciplines—including music, painting, storytelling and dance—can play a role not only in prevention, but also in the treatment and management of chronic conditions.

Across Africa, that shift is taking on institutional form. In Kenya, the Trust for Indigenous Culture and Health (TICAH) has integrated cultural expression into community health programs, while in South Africa, MusicWorks has focused on music-based interventions for vulnerable populations.

Regional momentum has also been reflected at the policy level: during African Union Healthy Lifestyle Day 2025, the African Union highlighted family mental health and endorsed artistic psychosocial support, signaling a broader transition from viewing the arts as ancillary to recognizing them as functional tools of care.

Within Ethiopia, Kine-Fews has also begun to embed itself in this emerging landscape through partnerships with institutions such as Aha Psychological Service, Mental Health Addis, Nadora Wellness Center and Plan International. Its programming has also been featured in public events, including World Mental Health Day activities at the United Nations Economic Commission for Africa, alongside the Alenilachu Charitable Organization, and observances of International Peace Day.

The initiative’s client base spans both public and private institutions, including Saint Paul’s Hospital Millennium Medical College, First Consult, FSD Ethiopia and the Setaweet Movement.

For Hiyab Tekle, a resident navigating what she describes as minor but persistent mental health challenges, art therapy offered a form of clarity that had eluded more conventional approaches.

“Music and painting helped me release emotions I couldn’t explain, especially sadness and anxiety,” she said. Since beginning the sessions, she reports improved sleep, a greater sense of calm, and fewer intrusive thoughts.

She recalled one session in particular, when the act of painting prompted an unexpected moment of insight. “While painting, I suddenly understood the source of my anger—it felt like a weight lifted,” she said. Unlike more passive coping mechanisms, she added, the creative process fosters a sense of agency. “Art and music make me feel actively involved in my healing.”

That sense of control extends to others. Rediet, a business student at Addis Ababa University, describes using religious music as a stabilizing force in moments of stress.

“I use religious music to take a step back and breathe when I’m overwhelmed,” she said. “The lyrics and rhythms remind me that there is still beauty to be seen.”

Contributed by Bemnet Seifu

The Pretoria Agreement of 2022 established the TIA as a transitional mechanism to guide Tigray toward elections and reconciliation. Rejecting the extension of General Tadesse’s term signals the TPLF’s dissatisfaction with the federal government’s approach and its desire to reclaim pre‑war institutions. Yet, reinstating the old regional council is not simply a bureaucratic adjustment; it is a political rupture that potentially undermines the fragile peace process. The council, suspended during the war, lacks legitimacy in the eyes of many Ethiopians, and its revival could deepen mistrust between the TPLF and the federal government.

While the broad ramification of the TPLF’s decision is the outbreak of a new round of a catastrophic war that exacts an even heavier toll than the 2020-2022 war, its immediate consequence is a power vacuum. With the TIA’s leadership contested and the old council not yet operational, governance in Tigray could trigger paralysis. Citizens already traumatized by years of conflict face uncertainty about who holds authority. Essential services, reconstruction efforts, and humanitarian aid could be disrupted. In a region still struggling to recover from war, such instability is dangerous. It risks reigniting an all-out conflict, emboldening armed factions, and eroding the fragile trust built since Pretoria.

The broader ramifications extend beyond Tigray. Ethiopia’s federal system depends on cooperation between the center and the regions. The TPLF’s rejection of federal authority sets a precedent that other groups may follow, challenging the cohesion of the state. It also complicates Ethiopia’s international standing. Donors and partners who supported the Pretoria Agreement will question whether Ethiopia can deliver on its commitments. The perception of instability could deter investment and undermine economic recovery at a time when Ethiopia desperately needs growth.

The imperative now is to forestall these consequences. Both the federal government and the TPLF are duty-bound to recognize that unilateral moves will only deepen division. Dialogue is essential. Addis Ababa must resist the temptation to impose authority through force, which would plunge the country back into war. Instead, it should engage the TPLF in negotiations that acknowledge grievances while preserving the integrity of the peace process. The TPLF, for its part, ought to recognize that reinstating the old council without broad consensus undermines legitimacy. It is eminently incumbent on it to work with federal authorities to design a transitional arrangement that reflects both regional aspirations and national stability.

Independent mediation may be necessary. The African Union, which brokered the Pretoria Agreement, should re‑engage to facilitate dialogue. Neutral observers could help monitor developments, ensuring transparency and building confidence. Civil society and community leaders must also be included, ensuring that decisions reflect the needs of citizens rather than the calculations of elites. Above all, victims of the conflict must not be forgotten. Transitional justice and reconciliation efforts should continue, ensuring that political maneuvering does not overshadow the imperative of healing.

The stakes are high. Ethiopia has endured years of devastating conflict, and the Pretoria Agreement offered a fragile hope for peace. The TPLF’s decision threatens to unravel that progress. Yet, crisis can also be an opportunity. If both sides use this moment to recommit to dialogue, they can strengthen the peace process rather than weaken it. The alternative—renewed confrontation—would be catastrophic, plunging Ethiopia back into violence and undermining its future.

The lesson is clear: remedies are only as good as their application. The TIA, the Pretoria Agreement, and Ethiopia’s federal framework are conceptually sound, but their value lies in implementation. Without genuine commitment to compromise, they risk becoming hollow structures. Ethiopia must act decisively to prevent the current power vacuum from spiraling into instability. Dialogue, transparency, and victim‑centered justice are the only paths forward.

As Ethiopia confronts this latest challenge, it is crucial to remember that peace is not a one‑time achievement but a continuous process. The rejection of General Tadesse Werede’s extension and the attempt to reinstate the old council are symptoms of deeper mistrust. Addressing that mistrust requires more than political maneuvering; it requires honesty, accountability, and a shared commitment to the future. The imperative is undeniable: it is absolutely critical to forestall the devastating consequences of this power vacuum, not through force or denial, but through dialogue and reconciliation. Only then can the country move beyond division toward stability and hope.

To defer justice until dialogue has been completed is to miss an opportunity to reinforce trust, accountability, and reconciliation at the very moment when they are most needed. National dialogue is designed to bring diverse voices together to discuss Ethiopia’s future, to bridge divides, and to create consensus on fundamental questions of governance. Transitional justice, meanwhile, is intended to address past abuses, provide redress to victims, and ensure accountability for crimes committed during conflict. These two processes are inherently linked. Dialogue without justice risks becoming abstract, detached from the lived experiences of those who suffered. Justice without dialogue can come off as being punitive, imposed without consensus. Together, they create a holistic framework for healing and rebuilding.

Deferring transitional justice sends the wrong signal to victims and survivors. Many of them have waited years for acknowledgment, accountability, and redress. To tell them that justice has to wait until dialogue is finished is to prolong their suffering and potentially erode their faith in the process. Victims have to be empowered so that their voices matter, not only in shaping the future but also in confronting the past. Integrating transitional justice into the dialogue would have ensured that their experiences were central to the national conversation, grounding abstract debates in human realities.

Moreover, transitional justice can strengthen dialogue by providing a framework for truth-telling. Truth commissions, reparations programs, and accountability mechanisms generally create spaces where grievances are aired and acknowledged. This, in turn, builds trust among participants. Without such mechanisms, dialogue may well be dominated by political elites, with victims and marginalized communities sidelined. Justice processes help democratize dialogue, ensuring that it reflects the voices of those most affected by conflict.

Deferring justice is also apt to lead to a politicization of the process. If transitional justice is seen as a separate, subsequent undertaking, it may be vulnerable to manipulation by whichever political forces emerge dominant from the dialogue. Integrating the two processes would have created safeguards, ensuring that justice is not contingent on political expediency but is embedded in the broader consensus-building effort. Justice must be impartial and independent, not subject to the shifting winds of political negotiation.

The government’s sequencing is perhaps motivated by concerns about stability. Officials may have been apprehensive that pursuing justice during dialogue could inflame tensions or derail consensus. Yet this concern misunderstands the role of justice. Properly designed, transitional justice is not about vengeance; it is about acknowledgment, accountability, and healing. Far from destabilizing dialogue, it strengthens it by addressing grievances that, if ignored, could fester and explode later. Stability built on silence is fragile. Stability built on truth and accountability is durable.

Ethiopia’s recent history underscores the urgency of this point. Years of conflict have left deep scars, with communities divided and trust eroded. Though national dialogue is undeniably essential, it cannot succeed if it ignores the wounds of the past. Transitional justice is the mechanism through which those wounds can be acknowledged and addressed. To defer it is to risk building dialogue on shaky foundations, where unresolved grievances undermine consensus and perpetuate mistrust.

The path forward must involve rethinking the relationship between dialogue and justice. Even if transitional justice is formally scheduled to begin after dialogue, it is not late to take steps aimed at integrating the two processes. Victims’ voices should be included in dialogue discussions. It is possible to launch truth-telling initiatives in parallel with dialogue sessions. Preparatory work for justice mechanisms—such as consultations on reparations or accountability frameworks—can proceed in parallel. The sequencing need not be rigid; flexibility is certain to ensure that justice informs dialogue and dialogue informs justice.

International experience offers lessons. In countries from South Africa to Colombia, transitional justice and national dialogue have been pursued together, reinforcing each other. Truth commissions have provided platforms for dialogue, while dialogue has shaped the design of justice mechanisms. Ethiopia can learn from these examples, adapting them to its own context. The key is to recognize that justice and dialogue are not competing priorities but complementary pillars of reconciliation.

Ethiopia’s future depends on its ability to confront the past honestly while building consensus for the future. Critical as national dialogue may be, it needs to be grounded in justice. Transitional justice is essential, but it must be shaped by dialogue. To defer one until the other is completed is to weaken both. It is therefore incumbent on the government to resist the temptation of rigid sequencing and embrace a more integrated approach. Victims deserve acknowledgment now, not later. Citizens deserve a dialogue that reflects truth, not silence. Ethiopia deserves a process that heals, reconciles, and builds a durable peace. The imperative is clear: dialogue and justice must proceed hand in hand, not one after the other.

A statement issued by Jakenn Publishing PLC reveals Million was told he was “needed for questioning” before being taken to an undisclosed location, and that his whereabouts remain unknown.

The publisher and staff at Addis Standard say they have made extensive efforts to locate Million, but both the Addis Ababa and Federal police commissions have confirmed that the managing editor is not in their custody, according to the statement.

Jeylan Abdi, Federal Police Commission communications head, explicitly stated that Million is not in federal custody.

Senior surveillance officers within both commissions have further stated that the men seen taking Million away in security footage are not members of their respective forces, according to the statement.

“Jakenn Publishing calls on the relevant authorities, including the Addis Ababa Police, the Federal Police Commission, and Ethiopian Human Rights Commission to launch an immediate, transparent, and thorough investigation into the circumstances surrounding Million’s disappearance and to ensure his safe and prompt return. Million Beyene is a provider for his family and a seasoned professional with years of experience in both government and independent media. His abduction comes amid repeated and intensifying security and administrative pressures targeting Addis Standard’s newsroom and operations in recent months,” reads the statement.

Million’s abduction comes less than two months after the Ethiopian Media Authority announced it was revoking Addis Standard’s license for “disseminating reports that conflict with issues of national interest.”

“We strongly condemn this alarming act,” said Yonas Kedir, Editor-in-Chief of Addis Standard. “The taking of Million Beyene by unidentified individuals is unacceptable and deeply troubling. We call for his immediate release, and we urge authorities to act swiftly to ensure his safety and uphold the rule of law.”

Elections are not merely about logistics or the ability to open polling stations. They are about legitimacy. For legitimacy to exist, citizens must believe that the process is fair, that their voices matter, and that competing parties have a genuine chance to contest power. Opposition parties’ perennial excoriations of the government over intimidation, restricted access, or administrative bias are not trivial grievances. They go to the heart of whether the election can fulfill its democratic purpose. Dismissing such charges outright is apt to deepen mistrust and undermine the credibility of the outcome.

The government’s insistence that the elections are a “critical necessity” is understandable. Ethiopia needs a functioning democratic process to stabilize its politics and move beyond cycles of conflict. Necessity though cannot justify ignoring the conditions under which elections are held. A vote conducted in an atmosphere of fear or exclusion will not heal divisions; it will exacerbate them. The government should therefore take seriously the complaints of its rivals and view them not as obstacles to be made light of but as opportunities to strengthen the process.

Opposition parties have pointed to both security and administrative hurdles. In some areas, the presence of armed groups or unresolved tensions makes campaigning dangerous. In others, bureaucratic obstacles—such as difficulties in registering candidates or undertaking campaigns—create the perception of partisanship. These issues are not insurmountable. However, they require acknowledgment and action. Security forces must be deployed in ways that protect all citizens, not intimidate them. And electoral authorities need to ensure transparency and fairness in registration, card distribution, and ballot access. Even small administrative reforms can build confidence if they are implemented openly and equitably.

Blanket denial of these concerns is counterproductive. It signals to citizens that the government is unwilling to listen, unwilling to compromise, and unwilling to uphold the spirit of democracy. Worse, it could very well delegitimize  the election before it even takes place. Ethiopia’s history has shown that contested elections can fuel instability. It is therefore incumbent on the government to adopt a different posture: one of engagement, dialogue, and responsiveness. Acknowledging the validity of at least some of the accusations leveled against it by opposition groups and taking steps to address them can go some way towards demonstrating its commitment to democratic principles and reassure citizens that the process is genuine.

The international community will also be watching closely. Ethiopia’s elections are not only a domestic matter; they are a test of the country’s credibility abroad. Donors, partners, and regional organizations will assess whether the polls meet basic standards of fairness. If opposition concerns are ignored, Ethiopia risks skepticism and even condemnation. Conversely, if the government demonstrates a willingness to listen and adapt, it can strengthen its standing and attract support for a genuine democratic transition.

Needless to say, the responsibility of conducting a successful election primarily lies with Ethiopia’s leaders. They must recognize that democracy is not about perfection but about trust. Trust is built when citizens see that their concerns are heard, that their rights are respected, and that their votes count. This requires humility from those in power, a willingness to admit shortcomings, and a commitment to continuous improvement. Elections are not a one-day event; they are part of a broader democratic journey. Through a constructive engagement with opposition parties regarding their legitimate complaints, the government can lay the foundation for a stable and inclusive future.

As June 1 approaches, Ethiopia is on the edge. The security establishment may or may not be right that the elections can proceed in most parts of the country. But the question is not only whether they can be held—it is whether they can be meaningful. The government must resist the temptation of denial and instead embrace the harder but more rewarding path of dialogue and reform. Voting is a fundamental democratic right, and for it to matter, citizens must believe the process is fair. Ethiopia’s leaders must ensure that enabling conditions exist, not only for the sake of the opposition but for the sake of the nation’s democratic future.

According to information from the Ethiopian Athletics Federation, preparations are underway as confirmed participants, including Olympic and World Championship medalists, begin arranging travel to the Ethiopian capital. The event represents Ethiopia’s entry into the World Athletics Continental Tour framework, where Bronze-level meetings are recognized as part of the international competition calendar.

Among the athletes’ confirming participation is Ferdinand Omanyala, Africa’s fastest man in the 100 meters. The Kenyan sprinter, a gold medalist in both the 100 meters and 4×100 meters at the African Athletics Championships 2022, is expected to headline the sprint events. Omanyala is widely regarded as a key figure in Kenya’s short-distance track program at global competitions.

The federation also confirmed the participation of Dalilah Muhammad, the 400-meter hurdles gold medalist at the Rio 2016 Olympics. Muhammad, who also secured a world title at the World Athletics Championships 2019, remains one of the leading figures in her discipline and a former world record holder.

In addition, Gabby Thomas, identified as a Paris Olympic 200-meter champion, has also confirmed her participation, according to earlier announcements by the federation.

The Ethiopian Athletics Federation stated that the participating athletes have completed the necessary registration processes, with additional Olympic and World Championship competitors expected to arrive in Addis Ababa in the coming days.

Ethiopia’s opportunity to host the Addis Grand Prix follows its inclusion in the World Athletics Continental Tour calendar, a development attributed to ongoing efforts by the national federation to expand the country’s role beyond long-distance running into hosting international competitions. The Continental Tour, established by World Athletics in 2020, provides a structured series of meetings across different levels, including Gold, Silver, and Bronze, offering host nations the platform to stage internationally recognized events.

The impacts are visible in daily life. Public transport has been curtailed, leaving commuters stranded and forcing many to walk long distances. Farmers cannot access fuel for tractors or irrigation pumps, threatening food production at a time when inflation is already eroding household incomes. Manufacturers reliant on diesel generators face interruptions, reducing output and risking job losses. The knock-on effect is clear: when fuel stops flowing, the economy grinds to a halt. For a country already buffeted with political headwinds and economic challenges, the shortage is a destabilizing force that deepens public frustration and undermines confidence in governance.

The government has responded with emergency measures. Fuel rationing has been introduced, prioritizing key sectors, including transport, major producers and exporters, strategic public and private projects, agriculture, and vehicles carrying essential goods. Prices have been raised and the government has stepped up enforcement against illegal fuel trading. Officials are exploring alternative suppliers in Africa and Asia, though logistical hurdles and soaring global prices limit what can be achieved quickly. Public appeals for conservation have been made, urging citizens to reduce non-essential consumption. Though these steps are necessary, they are reactive. Ethiopia is scrambling to manage a crisis that could have been mitigated with foresight.

The most glaring weakness exposed by the shortage is Ethiopia’s underdeveloped strategic petroleum reserve. While the country does maintain some reserves, it has become quite apparent that they are nowhere near sufficient to cover more than a few days of consumption. Many nations maintain reserves capable of sustaining weeks if not months of demand in case of global disruptions. Ethiopia’s limited stockpiles reflect years of policy neglect. Experts have long warned that Ethiopia’s growing economy and dependence on imported fuel required a stronger buffer. Had the Ethiopia government bolstered its strategic petroleum reserves gradually over time, even modest expansions could have provided weeks of breathing space. The current quandary is proof that investment in storage facilities, stockpiling, and diversification has been put on the backburner. The result is a nation of more than 130 million people has been dealt a debilitating blow by a bottleneck thousands of kilometers away.

Looking ahead, Ethiopia must adopt a comprehensive energy security strategy. Establishing a robust strategic petroleum reserve is imperative, with facilities capable of storing at least a month or two of national consumption. Supply sources must be diversified, securing contracts with African and Asian producers to reduce dependence on the Gulf. Investment in renewable energy—hydropower, solar, and wind—ought to be accelerated to reduce reliance on imported fuel altogether. Transparency and good governance are essential to ensure that fuel procurement and reserve management are free from corruption. At the same time, it is incumbent on the government to promote efficiency by encouraging public transport, fuel-efficient vehicles as well as conservation measures aimed at reducing demand and wastage.

The broader lesson is that global conflicts can have immediate, devastating consequences for distant nations. Ethiopia’s crisis is not simply about fuel; it is about resilience, foresight, and governance. The inadequacy of its reserves was a preventable vulnerability. Energy security needs to be treated as a national priority, not an afterthought. The Iran war and Hormuz blockade are stark reminders that Ethiopia cannot afford complacency.

Ethiopia’s fuel shortage has exposed the fragility of its energy system. The government’s rationing and emergency measures may stabilize the situation temporarily, but they cannot substitute for long-term resilience. Establishing a stronger strategic petroleum reserve, diversifying suppliers, and investing in renewables are not optional; they are imperative. The crisis should serve as a wake-up call. Ethiopia must act decisively to ensure that never again will its economy and society be paralyzed by a distant war. The cost of inaction is too high, and the stakes—national stability, economic survival, and public trust—are too great to ignore.