A Community Long Overlooked Finds Strength in a Collective Voice
Driven by the rhythmic pulse of childhood play, a young Azeb Mszelo Gebrekidan once raced through the familiar landscapes of her home province in Eritrea. Then, in a single violent instant, an ordinary afternoon became a life-altering tragedy.
A fall onto a jagged rock shattered her jaw, permanently altering her appearance and marking the beginning of her life with a disability.
Now 41, Azeb has spent more than seven years living as a refugee in Ethiopia.
She arrived in 2019, just months before the COVID-19 pandemic upended lives across the globe. Since then, displacement has been defined less by refuge than by survival. To support herself, she works from home preparing and selling berbere, the fiery chili spice blend central to Ethiopian cuisine, along with shiro, a powdered legume staple.
Three years ago, Azeb joined the Tesfa Refugees with Disabilities Association during its formative stages.
At the time, the association counted around 120 refugee members with physical disabilities. But according to Azeb, the organization struggled for years to translate its ambitions into tangible support.
Since its inception, she said, the association had been trapped in administrative limbo, unable to obtain an official operating license. Without legal recognition, members could neither secure partnerships nor access institutional support.
“For three years, our hands and feet were tied,” Azeb told The Reporter. “Since we joined the association, we haven’t received support from anywhere.”
That changed in early 2026, when the organization finally secured formal registration.
“Now we have hope,” she said. “I believe things will improve because we are finally recognized.”
Even before the association gained legal status, Azeb had sought other pathways toward stability.
She joined a cooperative initiative led by ZOA, a Dutch humanitarian organization supporting refugees and conflict-affected communities. The program brought together Eritrean refugees and Ethiopian residents, offering vocational training and equipment to establish a communal bakery.
But just as the group completed its organizational paperwork, the project abruptly stalled.
According to Azeb, representatives from the NGO informed members that local police had raised objections, effectively halting the initiative before operations could begin.
The collapse of the project pushed her back into the exhausting routine of home-based labor, grinding spices and processing flour to earn a modest income.
“I just want to live a normal life like everyone else,” she said quietly.
The Association—locally known as Tesfa Yesdetegnoch Akal Gudategnoch Mahber—was established to advocate for refugees living with disabilities, a group often pushed to the margins of both humanitarian assistance and public life.
The organization aims to strengthen the dignity, independence, and social inclusion of its members while advancing their legal and economic rights.
In January 2026, the association officially secured recognition from Ethiopia’s Authority for Civil Society Organizations, marking a turning point after years of uncertainty. The milestone was formally celebrated on April 27 at Addis Ababa’s Harmony Hotel during a launch event organized in partnership with the Regional Durable Solutions Secretariat (ReDSS) and the Ethio Friends Foundation for Refugees.
The gathering brought together honorary members of the association, representatives of the Ethiopian Human Rights Commission, humanitarian organizations, donors, and other stakeholders from across the refugee and disability sectors, all assembled to witness the organization’s formal debut.
Beyond its central mission of advocacy and professional training, the association has also positioned itself as a platform for broader social collaboration.
Its bylaws permit Ethiopian citizens who share the organization’s vision to join as members — an effort the founders say is intended to strengthen legal protections, expand support networks, and deepen community inclusion for refugees living with disabilities.
Speakers at the launch event described refugee life as one shaped by structural barriers: limited access to employment, education, and financial services. For refugees with physical disabilities, they said, those hardships are often intensified by additional social and physical obstacles.
“The challenges are doubled,” several representatives noted during the gathering, arguing that the people living through those realities are best equipped to articulate their own needs and propose meaningful solutions.
“People facing these double challenges understand their problems better than anyone else,” one representative said. “They must be able to present their own solutions to the government and organizations that support them.”
For the association’s founders, collective organization is not only about visibility but leverage — the belief that a unified voice carries greater weight in negotiations with institutions, humanitarian agencies, and policymakers.
Representatives said the association was also created to raise public awareness around the lived realities of displaced people with disabilities while building partnerships that encourage full participation and empowerment within society.
Among those attending the event was Ashenafi Teklay, an honorary member who has lived in Ethiopia as a refugee for 16 years.
Speaking to The Reporter, Ashenafi said the organization endured years of bureaucratic paralysis after its first meetings began in 2022. Despite those setbacks, membership grew steadily from 127 people to more than 200.
Now, he said, the association can finally begin what he described as its “real work.”
“Without a recognized license, we couldn’t move forward,” Ashenafi said, explaining that members personally covered operational expenses throughout the years-long administrative delay.
Their immediate concern, he added, is accessibility.
“The office we currently use is on the third floor,” he said. “It is completely unsuitable for persons with disabilities.”
Ashenafi also urged humanitarian organizations working with refugees to pay closer attention to the needs of the most vulnerable members of the community, particularly those who are bedridden or unable to move independently.
A formal association, he argued, makes it easier for NGOs and aid groups to identify needs and deliver targeted support more effectively.
While acknowledging the work of institutions such as the Ethiopian National Association of Persons with Disabilities, the Ethiopian Human Rights Commission, and the UN refugee agency, UNHCR, Ashenafi argued that refugees living with disabilities remain largely underserved because their needs fall between two humanitarian categories.
“There are currently no entities specifically dedicated to people living at the intersection of displacement and disability,” he said. “There is a lot of discussion about refugees in general, but very little awareness about the greater challenges faced by those within the refugee community who have disabilities.”
The association, he added, is open to partnerships with any local or international organization willing to support refugees with disabilities.
Looking ahead, Ashenafi said the group has already submitted project proposals to organizations including the Ethio Friends Foundation for Refugees and has received preliminary assurances of support, particularly in vocational training and access to credit services.
At the heart of those efforts, he said, is a broader ambition: changing how refugees with disabilities are perceived within Ethiopian society.
“Refugees with disabilities should not be seen as a burden in Ethiopia,” Ashenafi said. “They should become assets — people capable of creating opportunities and jobs for others.”
For 64-year-old Yemaneh Abraha, the association’s chairman, that vision is deeply personal.
Born in Asmara, the Eritrean capital, Yemaneh lost one of his legs more than three decades ago during the war against Ethiopia’s Derg regime — an injury that permanently reshaped the course of his life.
One of the founding members of the Tesfa association, Yemaneh arrived in Ethiopia in 2018 after what he described as years of instability and hardship in Eritrea.
“Life back in Asmara was very difficult for a person like me,” he told The Reporter, pausing before declining to elaborate further on what he described as a painful history marked by imprisonment and systemic discrimination.
After arriving in Ethiopia, Yemaneh became involved in refugee community organizing through the Refugee Central Committee (RCC), an experience he says eventually laid the groundwork for the establishment of the Tesfa association in 2022.
Now, with the organization formally recognized, Yemaneh says his priority is moving members away from dependency and toward economic independence.
“It is to make our members self-sufficient,” he said, outlining the association’s immediate goals. “Providing training, starting micro-enterprises, and helping members stand on their own.”
Achieving that vision, he said, will require stronger coordination between humanitarian agencies, government institutions, and civil society organizations.
Yemaneh’s appeal reflects broader structural concerns highlighted in international assessments.
A December 2024 protection brief published by UNHCR Ethiopia found that refugees with disabilities continue to face significant institutional and physical barriers, while many humanitarian organizations still lack dedicated budgets for disability inclusion.
The report noted that Ethiopia hosts more than one million refugees, though only two percent are formally registered as persons with disabilities — a figure expected to rise following planned verification exercises conducted in 2025.
UNHCR also identified heightened risks of violence, exploitation, and social stigma among refugees with disabilities, while funding shortages have reduced access to specialized services such as prosthetics and orthotics — critical support for people like Yemaneh and Azeb.
Still, while Yemaneh focuses on the long-term sustainability of the association, Azeb’s concerns remain grounded in the immediate realities of survival.
“I want them to help me establish a proper place for my work,” she said.
Then, speaking of others within the community whose circumstances are even more severe, her voice shifted toward urgency.
“Those who use crutches, and especially those who are completely bedridden, need serious support,” Azeb said. “They should be given priority.”
