Tamrat often inserts performance into his art practice and he’s well known for painting himself green at the opening of his exhibition on the subject of climate change and ecological destruction and his green bicycle is an easily recognizable art object and an instrument in his performances. 

The performance at the Circle garden and Tamrat’s extensive work deals with the cohesion and conflict between the natural and the manmade world. He often uses organic shapes and symbols, alongside modern tools to investigate this relationship and form connections of influence, confluence, and struggle. 

Performance art consists of various types of activities and is highly influenced by other art practices; it consistently has the elements of time, space, the performer’s body, or presence in a medium, and a relationship between performer and audience. It can be said that it stems from ancient rituals and practices in religions, holiday celebrations, and cultural expressions. Although categorized within the fine art context, Ethiopian performance art is not a carefully studied or documented discipline. And there are some who criticize it for appropriating Western methods to inform Ethiopian creative practices. That claim deserves a lot of scrutiny since what part of modern art practice can be devoid of influences from many sources, and Western culture historically and structurally holds a hegemonic status. 

There are very few performance artists many in the local art world dare to mention and of these Ethiopian artists Helen Zeru and Mulugeta Gebrekidan stand out. Helen Zeru’s Memory Back and Forth performance and video installation piece in 2011 explored the relationship between memory, death, the physical body, and the changes it undergoes. Exhuming her mother’s bones from Yoseph Church, Helen contemplates the passage of time and the memories of her mother while lying in the empty grave wrapped in white gauze. Helen is continuing to create courageous, critical, and highly personal work and has completed her masters in Art Praxis program 2015-2017 at the Dutch Art Institute in Arnhem, the Netherlands.

Mulugeta Gebrekidan, a multimedia artist trained in painting, performed Filling the Gaps (2013) that took place in public spaces such as roundabouts and squares of Addis Ababa as part of Neta Art Village’s Wax and Gold Project. His performance protested Mengistu Neway’s (famed instigator of the 1960’s coup d’état) place of execution occupation by a clock tower erected by the Samsung conglomerate at the Teklehaimanot roundabout. A gold-painted Mulugeta garbed in Ethiopian patriot’s clothes, holding golden spear and shield stood still at the tower and confronted government institutions for the misuse of a historic public space. These performances attempted to reclaim these public spaces and create a dialogue on social issues, culture, history, and identity.

Yohannes Mulat’s Inverted Echo (2015) is an art performance that took place in one of the crowded streets of Addis where pedestrians bargain either to buy or to sell items or currency (obsolete Ethiopian currency or other) that they believe to be worth 10 Ethiopian Birr. Yohannes held up a box full of 10 birrs and random objects and yelled ’10 birr ale (there’s 10 birr here)’ like one of the many street hawkers that throng Arat Kilo. This project was designed to demystify currency and trigger thoughts about the value of these notes especially regarding the nostalgic or sentimental value assigned to old notes regardless of their practical economic power. 

Yoftahe (Happy) Manyazewal although not trained as a traditional artist had a project entitled Rejection Challenge/Escape the Comfort Zone (2016). He wanted to challenge accepted rules of social engagement and public interaction, thereby breaking the norms instilled within an individual. This project, launched in collaboration with Abel Desta and Tigabu Habte forced the participants to confront their fear and thoughts preventing them from doing certain things. This included knocking on people’s doors and inviting people to go outside and play football, offering to make their own tea in cafés, lying on the ground in the middle of a busy street for a few hours, and offering free hugs to people.

Performance art has wider implications when looking beyond the subjectivity of public performances. Yoftahe’s experiment lying on the ground in front of the exhibition center around Stadium received varied responses. While some gleefully wanted to join him, others offered him alms thinking he was homeless or psychologically damaged and some who recognized him walked by without acknowledgment. Yoftahe says fear of others’ opinions or yilugnta, a specifically Ethiopian social setback for many, prevents people from chasing their dreams. The threat of social pushback or ostracism is another way people are imprisoned.

Some attribute the small number of performance artists to the lack of knowledge or exposure to the art. Yohannes says the lack of a performance school or performance as an integrated part of a curriculum results in very few artists practicing performance art. Most performance artists are trained as painters, sculptors, or actors. He himself received his BA in painting from AAU’s Alle School of Fine Arts and Design and completed his MFA at the Academy of Contemporary Art and Creative Writing, University of Tromsø, Norway. 

Bekele Mekonen, Assistant Professor at Alle School of Fine Art and Design, says there is no performance art curriculum at Alle School of Fine Arts and Design. There are seminars and discussions on the topic but it is not institutionalized. 

Another one of Helen’s performances Back and Forth 2 had her covered head to toe in white linen walking around Berlin carrying a red umbrella. In an interview with the Reporter in 2016, Helen said the performance was staged in Berlin because she was fearful of doing it in Addis. The public feedback can be mixed. Bekele attributes this to the conservative nature of Ethiopian society. “Few artists daring to challenge the status quo” and many are fearful of asking the necessary questions performance art attempts to pose to society. In literature, theater and music artists convey messages indirectly, especially using satire or riddles to voice unpopular opinions or protest certain issues. Bekele says, “joyful or intellectual protest has no acceptance” in a highly secretive and uncommunicative community. Performance art is typically direct and confrontational; it asks the viewer to re-think perceptions and challenge convention.

It is also difficult for performance artists to present their works, says Bekele, because there is no platform and there is limited awareness of the art form. When Netsa Art Village launched the performance Moving Society in 2014, organizer Mihret Kebede had to register their project as a circus act and exhibition when city officials did not understand what performance art was. 

Yoftahe insists creating an environment that allows free expression is fundamental in unlocking personal and cultural possibilities. One of his challenges was to offer free hugs to people around the city, a perfectly ordinary act anywhere else in the world, but one that resulted in a confrontation with police officers leading to his arrest. 

Bekele says many artists self-censor fearing government reprisal. Installing policies and government-funded programs that nurture the arts is a surefire way to increase public awareness of the arts and create opportunities for artists to express themselves.

“Since we don’t have a performance school or performance as integrated part of a curriculum in existing school, at some level it will affect its existence in the art scene,” says Yohannes. 

Another key problem is that performance art is hard to commodify. The performance might be expensive to stage and has no real income for the artist. Internationally, institutions and collectors buy the rights to stage performances. In the emerging Ethiopian commercial art market there are few commercial art galleries and even fewer art buyers. Expecting art lovers to purchase an idea or a performance piece can be wishful thinking. 

However, the importance of performance art to making public statments on the state of the nation, the social fabric, the environment, the human condition are necessary and urgent. It is an art practice that demands direct engagement between artist and audience, blurring the lines between the two and occuring outside of the restrictive, commericalized and often elitist space of white cube galleries. Artists will likely continue to demand the platform for this but a supportive ecosystem is important and this can only come from government support, as with many issues within the creative sector. 

A version of this article first appeared in the April 2018 version of the newspaper. Some elements have been updated for clarity and relevance.

“I was passionate about fashion as a child. I developed through time, trying my mother’s clothes, sketching. My aunt saw what I had draped on a mannequin and bought me a small sewing machine. I didn’t have any technical skill at that point; I just followed my instinct.” 

This continued until her fourth year in university when she had more free time and enrolled in a fashion design course. This gave her the necessary technical skills she’d lacked up to that point. The following year Kunjina joined African Mosaique’s fashion incubation program. She explains that the incubator gave her access to information she did not have before. 

“Knowing the market, how brands work, what the international fashion industry is like. You get excited when you’re just learning to make clothes and want to do more of that. Before this program, I didn’t have the concept of a collection, for instance. Thinking of seasons and concepts was new to me. There was no other fashion school like this so I learned a lot. I developed a plan through that.”

The collection she produced in the program, and the winner of the 2018 African Mosaique Fashion Incubator, was based on a concept that combined her passion and formal training. She used it to illustrate her passion for fashion and architecture through structured pieces in black cotton fabric with straight lines embroidered in red. 

The following year Kunjina collaborated with two brands – Black Rhino, which specializes in leather, and Bala, a notebook and postcard production house – to create Designers Collective. Designers Collective is a single shop providing the products of these three companies along with other designer items from up and coming artists. 

Kunjina explains the process of reaching customers before the store was exhausting. The only place people were likely to see her products was on social media and once they ordered an item she would have to self deliver it. Having a physical store simplified the process and brought a diversity of products to a wider audience. A shared store also helped these designers share costs and responsibilities associated with owning a retail establishment. Many fashion designers open new brands but are not able to sustain a store beyond a certain point due to the constraints of managing the business and creative aspects involved. 

Designers is currently located on Century Mall after a short hiatus due to the coivid-19 pandemic. The lockdown caused Kunjina to pivot towards producing facemasks and keep maintaining the shop and her 3 employees. 

“I think of a concept of a collection by asking what’s the most present idea to me right now. I develop the idea, create a mood board, and color board. Then I select a fabric selection and make illustration or sketches. I think of a pattern and create one. I usually make a sample using abujedi then make a prototype after all the corrections are made. After that we move to the photoshoot and advertisement phase.”

Kunjina’s designs are often recognizable. The color scheme is often fabric in black or different shades of grey, and small simple details and embroidery in white or red. There is an angularity to the items she makes, a sculpted silhouette that’s a combination of simplicity and sophistication. 

“Crafted detail is added to connect it to the concept. That’s what makes us unique. We want people who wear it to have a connection with that item. I think a lot of the structure in the items comes from my background,” she explains. Kunjina studied Construction Management for 5 years. “But even before school, when I was drawing or sketching something, my works frequently had structured lines.”

Resilience, one of her standout collection, is inspired by a story of adopting obstacles as welcome challenges and learning through the process. “Failure is an opportunity to improve. I found that in a book I was reading at the time and I related to it. If I find something dull or repetitive, if it’s not exciting me then my passion disappears. It made me realize I’m always looking for a challenge. That was my mentality. An idea that is true and close to me is revealed in that collection. Not everyone may understand it but some people will relate to it. They might find it inspirational or it might be confirming their self-image. Either way, they see themselves in it,” she explains. She uses the example of frayed ends on the fabric to explain that hardship is just part of the process of change. “Wearing these clothes gives people this feeling of strength, it creates this vibe. It’s about finding that feeling within yourself.” 

The campaign photo shoot for Resilience collection was done in Semien mountains and Kunjina uses the hike up the mountain as reflective of the hardship the collection was meant to convey. 

Kunjina also works with the global movement for sustainability Fashion Revolution. She campaigns for consciousness raising when purchasing fast fashion and throwing away clothing as well as raising awareness about where the clothes we wear come from and the people who made them.
“When I first started making clothes, I was just excited to make new things and enter the market. Then saw the impact and it’s made me stop and consider. Solely focusing on creativity is not always good. Fashion is a growing industry in Africa; so it’s still early and we can learn how to be more sustainable. I took this as an opportunity to research and learn. Change starts from you, from one brand, and if I’m going to be responsible, I should look at the output, the working condition of employees, look at waste. Then it will have an effect. I think we can bring collective change that way. We are aware and we don’t throw away our waste. We try to use ethically sourced materials which is hard to do. You go to Merkato and ask what percent cotton is this item but they can’t tell you. We’re trying to be as conscious as we can.”

Kunjina is currently participating in an idea competition award with The Good Business organization and hopes to use proceeds of that award to enter the international market.  

“There are a lot of things left to be done. Things are a lot better than they used to be but it’s not enough. Overall thinking about fashion and knowledge has grown. Social media has made fashion more accessible. There’s more information about trends, and how to dress the way you want are out there. Stuff Ethiopians used to be shy about, current generations are bolder about trying.” she says. 

“The economy, Covid, the climate of conflict we now live in are affecting us, especially because we’re regarded as luxury items. We’re trying to survive and move to the next stage.” 

Understandably, people don’t want to spend extra money on something like high fashion when their lives are precarious. But an ecosystem that not only lets those in the creative sector survive but thrive is necessary if this industry is to grow. Creating a self-sustaining creative sector still requires the work of the public sector. This requires more focus from the government with regards to providing financial grants, encouraging policies and physical space for creative activities. ​​​​​​

Magazines in Addis rise and fall with each passing year, unable to meet production and printing costs with ad sales and customer purchases. Classic staples of the form like Selamta shuttered to the devastation of readers and non-readers. Many try to establish lifestyle-based publications but rarely do they sustain enough to continue past the first year. This undoubtedly leaves most founders and editors discouraged, while few might doggedly attempt to find the perfect formula for a self-sustaining publication. 

Others have chosen to move their interest online, astutely observing the digital world is the perfect outlet for publications on business, lifestyle, health, and art. Linkup Magazine is the first one that comes to mind as it combines a good layout and great pictures with curated content on living in Addis Ababa for the middle and the upper class. Restaurant reviews, nightlife, new entrepreneurial ventures, and hilariously scathing film reviews one can enjoy even if they’re unlikely to watch the movies are consistent sections of the magazine. First published in July of 2018, Linkup is consistently published each month to its 9000 subscribers on telegram.

Telegram is the premier platform to reach an audience in this local digital publishing scene. One of the benefits of using telegram and social media, says Besufekade Mulu, editor of GETZ Magazine, is the amount of interaction it allows with readers. 

“I think digital publishing affords a certain kind of liberty to say what you want. You can also publish things faster. It’s not regulated by anyone and community is the most important part,” he explains. 

The days of letters to the editor have been replaced with comments on websites and subtweets in some ways. One of the restrictions digital publishing eliminates is the type of content allowed. There are of course many websites dedicated to news especially focused on political affairs and their readership is large but not diverse. News rarely features in these digital magazines but instead exploring topics that are underrepresented in mainstream print media. 

GETZ is a beautifully designed magazine dedicated to giving a platform to creative professionals in the country. Articles often cover issues like the creative process and the hurdles artists jump through as they attempt to present their work to bigger audiences. Most articles have the unique, quippy, often sarcastic but ultimately sincere voice of editor Besufekade. His expertly selected list of things to read, watch and listen to is always a treasure trove compiled by a person who deeply loves media and just wants to talk about it. The illustrations and design of the magazine are led by the vision of co-founder Izzat Amanuel whose Afrofuturist influences are transforming what illustration and color theory can mean. 

“We wanted to create a platform where creatives would present as professionals while retaining their unique identities. We wanted to reach a wide audience online and the internet is great at that. It’s also cost-effective, we can use designs and layout options that wouldn’t be feasible on print,” says Besufekade.

Each issue of GETZ follows a theme and they spend time finding creatives that are pushing the boundaries in their creative field. “We think that it’s really hard for a professional involved in the industry to be taken seriously because of the many negative perceptions and unfair industry standards and modes of operation. Moreover, while there is great talent present in Ethiopia, quality standards aren’t clear. What’s being promoted isn’t always what’s best.” explains Besufekade. 

“I’ve learned that there are amazing contemporary writers who have great stories to tell and creative styles of writing to show… they just didn’t get the platform and maybe didn’t think the process of publishing online and reaching a new audience would be this easy,” says Teka Haile, co-founder of Aterira magazine. 

Aterira focuses on publishing creative fiction, mostly in Amharic. The tone, in classic Amharic literary style, is often wry, a microcosm of how the personal is political. It slips between angst and expressing the doubts and insecurities about being a young person in a socio-economically complex world against the backdrop of the political minefield of Ethiopia. The writers are recurring and readers can get familiar with their writing style and most use pseudonyms. One of the writers, Bezawit Zerihun, also known as Bez Brown on Aterira published a book recently titled Yemehal Lij. 

“I’m glad we are bringing those young and unique creative writers to the light. Sometimes the selection process would be difficult as most of the writers send in a lot of great pieces to choose from. But we always save the ones we didn’t publish for the next issue.” says Teka. “We are in the inevitable digital era and most of the youth are shifting towards that habit – which is getting their news online, socializing online, and such. We thought it would be wise to use the medium and reach the audience easily.” 

Another magazine with a wide readership among high school and university students is ከTsenat. Founder Heldana Michael is a law student at Addis Ababa University and she has been publishing ከTsenat since January 2019. 

ከTsenat is a lifestyle magazine that often includes articles and essays on daily life, mental health, fashion, music, and sometimes poetry. “You have to consistently be creative. We try to stay relevant to what’s happening and what people are doing. It keeps you on your toes,” says Heldana. This passion-driven project has 28 Amharic and English writers volunteering their time to the magazine.

“There are diverse voices and they are being expressed creatively. This brings content diversity for an audience that is thirsted for it. The media world is still in its infancy and this platform can be the necessary catalyst to help grow it. You can see what’s working and what’s not too. There are relatively objective metrics that can help gauge audience interest.” says Besufekade.

Social media platforms allow for direct engagement with readers and built-in algorithms can help measure the frequency of visits, time spent on a page, scrolling through a page, and sharing of content with others. These can be great tools for understanding how well the publication is doing, especially since sales don’t enter the equation. All these magazines are provided free. 

Submitting to the whims of advertisers or giving in to companies they don’t morally agree with is a frequent occurrence in publishing. Branded content can sometimes be misleading to readers and the bulk of ads in an issue can overwhelm the purpose of a publication. However, without any income source, all these writers and designers are working on these publications for free. 

Teka explains that it’s not easy to manage full-time jobs and publish Atirera but is sure they’ll continue. “It could be tough but since we also like to read and we want people to enjoy what those new-age creatives are writing, we manage. For now, the focus is supporting and encouraging new creative writers to write.”

All these publications have considered print at some point but are not certain when the right time to try could be. “We do have plans to monetize and make this our full-time jobs,” says Besufekade, “We’re not sure how but we will find a way.” It’s a big gamble but the reliability of digital publishing is undeniable at this time and it’s only likely to grow.

Zelalem Merga’s recent exhibition at the famed Guramayne Art Center escapes the bounds of the white walls, extends into the lovely garden, and transforms every inch available into a kaleidoscopic reflection of his home studio. 

Zelalem, or Zola, as he’s affectionately known in his circle, has been making art since graduating from Ale School of Fine Art and Design at Addis Ababa University. Although he was trained as a painter, he’s devoted a lot of his time to experimenting in various mediums and his works indicate this experience. 

There is a level of control and utter madness in his method. He’s written his own poetry on large 3+ meters of paper alongside rap and reggae lyrics he listens to as he’s painting. And despite the overload of information, these works are coherent. There is a theme of conservation and preservation of nature, a call for freedom and emancipation, and undeniable love for art. 

This exhibition included some works that served as odes to artists he admires. Basquiat, Klimt, Mondrian, and Pablo Picasso are a few of the many artists whose works have been impactful to him; influence, he says, that unconsciously seep into his practice. 

Zelalem has converted one of the smaller rooms of the gallery into what could be described as a studio. An easel, a collection of canvases against the wall, a row of shoes in the corner, boxes, and some fabric are strewn across the room. CDs and records are on a shelf and small plants hang from the ceiling. Zelalem has invited visitors into his process. He’s welcoming an audience not just to his paintings but to his aesthetics, his identity as an artist.

There is an element of play to Zelalem’s paintings. There is a child-like abandon and an experimental approach that is exhilarating. In ‘Dread Abeba’ (dread flower), Zelalem shows his relationship with art in the form of a self-portrait. Adorned by the kaleidoscopic use of words, shapes, and colors, his works are exciting and fun. They intrigue the viewer at first glance and reveal a world of his own making within and it’s a pleasure to revel in it. 

Zelalem says the shortage of material led to him recycling random objects into art resources. He’s worked with cassette tapes, corks, circuit boards, and several discarded items he finds and collects in his studio. Some of these works are figurative, portraits of famous and recognizable people who are attractive to mainstream buyers. This exhibition is Zelalem’s first one in 4 years, as he was only showing in art fairs and bazaars, places that attract more mainstream buyers. 

He describes his process as both planned and spontaneous. He might approach a painting with a sketch at hand but he’s often inspired by music or poetry and adds those elements to his canvas. 

Zelalem found the COVID-19 lockdown conducive to his practice. “Not moving around much helped me produce more. I felt I returned to myself. I have been experimenting with other mediums and been away from painting for a while. Looking at the world situation, corona, Black Lives Matter, the protests here and elsewhere, listening to music, all of those combined to create this,” he explains. 

“I want to create a feeling. A painting never feels finished to me. I want to reflect on what I’m thinking, and feeling. It’s a process.” 

This exhibition wasn’t just limited to paintings on canvas. Zelalem had taken over the modest outdoor area of Guramayne by bringing over his furniture, wood pallets painted in his signature style, and other things he made while staying at home. 

This show featured new pieces that feel like love letters to Addis Ababa. Zelalem had collected antique maps, often from the sprawling Merkato market, and made slight alterations. “There have been a lot of changes in the city. A lot of destruction. Maps are a way of finding connections. Putting them in a frame on a wall gives perspective,” he explains. 

These relief maps juxtaposed by the ordered chaos of his color application are gripping. He’s tracked the changes of the city, framing the history and contouring the stages of its metamorphosis. 

“City life can be corrupting. Living in the forest simplifies your life. It comes naturally to me to plant trees and garden.” 

His studio at Entoto used to be more remote but the new park inside the forest has attracted more city folk. He’s also found this led to more pollution to this typically clean area. He’s found means to collect plastic bottles and other recyclable waste along with local teens and began art projects within the community. 

This work is not done alone. As with many of his projects, Zelalem collaborates with his wife Shewit, an artist in her own right and co-founder of social enterprise Deug 27 focused on providing pan-African education in the Bela area. Artmaking is a big part of this project, and both Zelalem and Shewit engage the students in upcycling and repurposing material into art. 

The studio space in Entoto has grown beyond Zelalem and Shewit and become a working space for two other artists. They are hoping it will grow into a residency space for young artists in search of a studio and the structure working with full-time artists provides. 

“You have to pay your dues, make the necessary sacrifices. Life takes you to the next step. I’m getting better as an artist.” And this exhibition is clear evidence of that.

Seble Samuel, Meron Tadesse and Haimanot Tefera launched the campaign in June of 2019. All three are involved in environmental work in some capacity and decided to join forces for Ye Zembil Melse. 

“We started the campaign as individuals (me, Seble and Haimi) all environmentalists both in profession and passion, and were later joined by like-minded friends, environmental groups, and organizations,” explains Meron. “We observed the detrimental effects of plastic pollution on the environment and started imagining what it was like before plastic bags were introduced. And the first name that popped up was Zembil. Everyone used to do grocery shopping with zembil (woven baskets) which is beautiful and eco-friendly. And that’s why we named the campaign “Ye Zembil Melse”, bringing Zembil back.”  

Ye Zemil Melse is a collaborative platform of three organizations – Global Shapers Addis Ababa Hub, Green Ethiopia, and Lem Ketema. The first campaign involved a petition demanding a ban on single-use plastic bags in Ethiopia and instead using traditional alternatives like zembils and cloth bags. 

“We follow in the footsteps of environmental pioneers such as SOS Addis who have been campaigning for a complete ban on plastic bags for over a decade, and we support the proposal of the Environment, Forest and Climate Change Commission to ban all single-use plastic bags in Ethiopia,” they write in the petition to ban single-use plastic on change.org. 

One of the clever ideas in their campaign to end this cycle of waste was to involve local celebrities, and public figures such as Zeritu Kebede, Betty G, Melaku Belay, Kenny Allen, Eleni G/Medhin, Kuku Sebsebe, and many others. 

“We came up with the idea of working with public figures and influencers to put a spotlight on Zembil and make it trendy. [They] were all happy to be part of the campaign and we’re really grateful to all of them. Even though it looks as if all the focus is on Zembil, our main goal is to promote the use of sustainable and practical alternatives like tote bags and for people to make a conscious decision not to use plastic bags. It’s routine to be handed plastic bags when buying something and people need to think about the consequence of the plastic they’re going to use one time and discard.” explains Meron. 

The campaign also involves events like the one held on Earth Day at Alliance Ethio-Française that featured many plastic-free and environment-friendly alternatives currently available in the city. Alternative Addis, an initiative that upcycles glass waste into jars and cups, MAFI MAFI, who produced Zelaki tote bags, Noble Cup, a reusable menstrual cup that’s more sustainable than other alternatives, AFRIKAL sustainable cloth bags by Hub of Africa, and local zembil vendors, were all present at the event. A tailor helped convert fabric into bags for the participants. 

“Oftentimes we hear people saying alternatives are expensive and we wanted to show how easily we can make them from old materials with a simple visit to our neighborhood tailor or even do it ourselves,” says Meron.  

While countries like Kenya and Rwanda have banned single-use plastic, Ethiopia has been moving in the opposite direction. The Environment, Forest and Climate Change Commission proposed a complete ban on plastic bags in Ethiopia but it was delayed due to the pandemic. The plastic industry is one of the biggest industries with the worst environmental practices. It is one of the fastest-growing industries in Ethiopia at this moment, with the nation importing large amounts of plastic raw material and many private companies increasingly involved in the manufacturing, packaging and trade of plastic products. 

“Plastic doesn’t have a long history in the country and yet we’ve all clearly seen the devastating impact it brought within a very short time. It might seem that plastic became part of our daily life and we might think it’s going to be difficult without it. But, we believe if there is a will there is a way, we lived without it once and we can live without it again. Of course, such initiatives will be more effective when supported with policy and our intention is to mobilize the community to demand policy change with a bottom-up approach.” 

This approach relies on behavioral changes through community outreach efforts. Meron is hoping awareness-raising campaigns on the adverse impacts of plastic waste at the individual level can lead to informed people demanding change at the policy level. 

Legislation has been effective in stopping all single-use plastic in other countries and the Ethiopian government must weigh the economic gains against the adverse environmental impacts of certain industries. 

Organizations with poor environmental practices like Nestle and Coca-Cola have set their sights on countries like Ethiopia as fertile ground as there are lax restrictions and governments are looking to increase foreign investment. Western nations often send plastic waste they can’t reuse or recycle to countries in the Global South, leading to large-scale ecological disasters whose impacts we will soon see. 

“Making Ethiopia plastic-free means promoting policies for ecological sustainability and urban resilience, reviving our circular economies, and abandoning cultures of single-use, dispose-ability, and waste to build healthier communities and cities,” writes co-founder Seble in an op-ed for Ketema Journal.

Ye Zembil Melse is working to prevent negative social and ecological outcomes from the plastics crisis by campaigning for Ethiopia to be plastic-free. For this to become possible, the campaign requires the support of the public sector for significant progress to be made, and they’re looking forward to that.

Circle Art Agency has been a strong presence in East Africa since its establishment in 2012. The gallery also held an artist talk between a selection of the featured artists moderated by curator and co-founder of the artist collective Contemporary Nights, Sarah Bushra. The discussion highlighted the necessity of cross-national knowledge building and showcasing works by East African artists more frequently. There are a lot of movements, collectives, studios that share similar visions, and creating collaborative networks can only help the industry grow. 

“This second version of ‘Addis Contemporary II, 6 years on’ can be regarded as a snapshot of how the Addis art scene has flourished from the fertile bedrock of the modernist period,” writes Mifta in his introduction to the exhibition. “The participating artists are a cross-section, representing the determined growth of the city’s art scene. We can see a thematic and stylistic range; from the modernist painter Tibebe Terffa’s sustained practice of aesthetics to the established and emerging artists who bring vigorous academic skills; research and contemporary approaches to making art.”

The first edition of Addis Contemporary in 2016 presented the works of 11 artists and focused more on showing these artists’ perspectives of a quickly changing Addis Ababa. This edition brought a diverse selection of artists, both new and well-established, residing in Ethiopia and abroad, giving a glimpse of the variety of practices and the influences behind the works. 

Tibebe Terffa’s Untitled II showcases this giant’s long career spanning 50 years. He has worked in various styles and taught painting for several years.

Leayne Tilahun’s Reminiscence I is an emotionally charged painting depicting a dreamlike scene with figures emerging out of the fog. Some figures are in a tight embrace, others with heads bowed as if in defeat, or raised in what could be prayer. The scene is one of revelation, slowly unpeeling layers to expose suffering within the human condition. 

Girmachew Getnet’s Untitled triptych is in reference to the legendary battle and victory of King Agapos/Agabos over the giant snake Wainimba. “I think of the system we are governed by now as the giant snake, getting bigger and bigger each time it feeds on our peace, unity, love, wisdom, and fears. The entire system around our world is against the human circle, the human community. Humans were created to live freely, but with moral freedom. And I say, just like Agapo used his message to kill Wainimba, I believe I can also battle this system dividing and wearying us through my art,” he writes in his artist statement. This mixed media work of acrylic, clay pencil, charcoal on natural artboard elegantly combines painting and drawing techniques. 

Tamirat Gezahegn is one of three artists to be featured in both Addis Contemporary exhibitions. His earlier works on canvas were based on his extensive study of different indigenous Ethiopian cultures. Tamirat now uses acrylic and paper mache on wood board. In Adorne Body, the subject matter is similar but his practice has become more experimental as the composition has grown simplified and more vibrant. His works are investigations of the conflict, symbiosis, and harmony between the natural and the manmade world, ruminating on how balance is achieved. “I need things to coalesce, to be in balance. Urbanity, cities are all over the world. We see life interacting with nature and civilization. They’re either in harmony or pushing each other. I present nature through organic shapes and city life by geometric shapes,” he explained at the artist talk held at Circle Art Agency. 

Amare Selfu’s work Untitled I, is inspired by his own experiences. He’s interested in mental mapping, the boundary lines between cultures, language, places, people, and the meaning behind these lines. “If we look at the English language, for instance, there’s a communication gap. It becomes a tool for alienation, to ‘other’. The ephemeral line is tuned real — but if there are no such boundaries, where do we belong? Those are the questions I ask.” Amare was the former head of the painting department at Ale School of Fine Art and is currently teaching at Maryland Institute College of Art (MICA) and Montgomery College. 

Meron Hailu’s Landscape II, delicately crocheted pieces and yards of yarn spin and swirl to create this dream-like landscape. One of the few artists expertly working in textile art, Meron is also an instructor at Ale School of Fine Art’s graphics department. 

Tiemar Tegene’s gripping pieces Lefty and Mask Off are small prints on paper. Her subjects live on the edge, pushed and rejected, there remains a swirl of powerful energy surrounding them. Tiemar will soon have her first solo exhibition at Guramayne that should bring more of works to the public. 

Another artist that’s been a part of both editions of Addis Contemporary is Surafel Amare. Presence I, Presence, and Twins, the three paintings in this exhibition show elements of Surafel’s signature style that no doubt emerged from his education in graphic design and practice in various mediums. Printmaking and patterns are recurrent in his work and his close observation of people and the composition of city life informs his practice. He is process-driven, as evident in the layering of paint, the lines and borders drawn in the composition, in his use of wax paint, and the underlying patterns he often uses. 

Ashenafi Mestika’s works are also part of Addis Contemporary II. Ashenafi recently graduated from Ale School of Fine Art but has been working as a painter, photographer, filmmaker and has been exhibiting his works for several years. Alexander Tadesse’s selfie portrait highlights the ubiquitousness of smart phone screen viewing. 

Selome Muleta’s paintings were also part of this exhibition. Selome often paints women figures along with ordinary objects, highlighting the significance of familiarity in establishing intimacy. Her career may be in its early stages but her success in the last couple of years signals a promising future for Selome. 

Engedaget Legesse Amede’s Empty Room (05) plays with the contrast of emptiness and abundance while Dereje Demissie’s imaginary landscapes examine the relationship between people and the environment. Engidaye Lemma’s works tell the story of rapid urbanization, depicting old, worn down houses and demolished sites as a testament to the ugly side of ‘modernization’. Henok Getachew’s Earth Hour and other works examine climate change, environmental issues, and society. 

Kidus Bezzawork’s boundary-breaking paintings, Eyasu Tilayeneh’s abstract, powerful colors as well as Kirubel Abebe’s contemplative, deeply personal portraits are also a part of the exhibition. These three emerging artists are already putting their marks in Addis Ababa’s art scene. 

“There are so many artists of great potential. I like thinking about how artists think and covert that into making art. Guramayne is a place for artists to gather and work. If I see potential I try to engage myself in their process, to see how they invest themselves in the work, to enable them, and enable myself to have a better understanding,” explained Mifta at the artist talk. “This exhibition has a different context from the first Addis Contemporary. I tried to bring a nucleus, nectar of what Addis has to offer. We can have 10 or 12 different shows of that of course but I had to approach artists of different experiences. There are modernists like Tibebe and young ones like Lij Kidus. Even those abroad are included because they’ve made a great contribution to Ethiopian art.” 

Exhibitions like this will likely create conversations among art practitioners in east Africa and produce more frequent platforms to showcase works and have dialogues. That will certainly allow for a robust industry. 

Michael has always been interested in athletics but his involvement in triathlons began, as he describes it, by accident. His professional career was in a family business offering PR services to Kenya’s elite. A childhood friend who was also his roommate in university in South Africa became a triathlete and Michael offered to do some PR work for him.

“I wanted to do branding for him, transform this skinny Asian boy of Kenyan descent into the ambassador for triathlons in Kenya. We built him as an endurance athlete and promoted triathlons in Kenya along the way. In my quest to be a good friend I decided to train with him, just to support him. We need to go immerse ourselves in clients’ lives to understand their needs so we drove down to the coast and it was fun. I came third, and I thought, oh, okay!” 

This friend went on to compete in the ironman triathlon in the UK but promptly quit the sport after returning to Kenya. But the following year, organizers of the triathlon asked Micheal if he was interested in participating in the competition and he agreed thinking he’d get a vacation out of the excursion outside Nairobi. 

“I came second this time. And I thought this is not a bad life. I’m on holiday on the coast, I’m fit, I look nice, I’m like a celebrity! You can tell there’s not much focus then,” he laughs. 

But the next two years became instrumental in the growing popularity of triathlons primarily through a strong social media presence. Michael was going through what he describes as a transition period where he became more focused and thought about the direction his life will take. People would approach him asking for his fitness routine, wondering how they could become triathletes. 

“Working in the corporate world was not fulfilling. I wanted to know what I do impacts more than my bank account. When does it become not about my salary? What’s your legacy when you die? What will you be remembered for? That really stuck with me.” 

This realization led him to embrace a faith-based approach that included church, the training program he developed, and the vision he created for his life. “I’m a triathlete by hobby, a coach and communication person by profession and I’m a man of God by calling,” he describes himself. 

The vision of Team Tri Fit is to get as many people into the sport of triathlon as possible. The goal is to increase the number of participants to 700 people by 2022 and his program seems to be approaching that goal. What started out with two clients in an open field now welcomes at least 20 new people each year. 

Team Tri Fit is not limited to training for triathlons. They’ve launched a program focusing on health and wellness, swimming, and basketball, attracting a diverse group to the facility. They attract 9 to 5 workers, stay-at-home moms, teens, retirees, and several others that don’t fit the typical athlete model. 

“We opened the health and wellness program for people to come and see. One day I throw them the ball or put them on a treadmill, swim a little. It’s a slow process. There’s a lot of fear towards the sport. A lot of demystification work has to be done. Some people don’t know how to swim because swimming is seen as a luxury sport in many places. Africans say water is for drinking and showering,” he jokes. Gradually these people find themselves invested in the sport, purchasing their own bicycles, melding more with the team, and participating in triathlons. 

Michael relies on building a rapport with those interested in joining his program. A functional movement assessment is conducted and he might recommend visiting a physiotherapist if there’s an injury. The training is divided into 3 phases that last 16 weeks. The first 4 weeks are dedicated to mobility and flexibility, the following 4 to strength training with weights, and the last 8 weeks to sport-specific training in swimming, biking, and endurance running. 

Michael relies on experience to guide trainees, refraining from directly ordering restraint in diet or lifestyle. “I tell people to eat whatever they want but in moderation. Drinking, smoking, poor nutrition, stress, partying all have an impact but experience is the best teacher. You party all night then have to swim laps in the morning, you’re going to feel it.”

He tells trainees to keep a food blog and observe what they’re eating and how it’s affecting their bodies. He sometimes brings his breakfast or lunch into the gym so they can see what he eats. “I sometimes let them come into my world and see how things are. Triathlon is a lifestyle. If it’s for a bucket list you’re going to struggle. If it’s a way of life you want to pick up, these challenges will not break you,” he says. Intention matters. “That person on the street – you’ve transformed their life and they remember you every day.”

The only cost to entering the triathlon training program is one hundred dollars. “That’s the only way we can get people into the sport. If we’re giving people value, they give back in attendance, loyalty becomes easier. We want to care about you so much you’ll want to believe in yourself too. I want to train you because I want to, not for the money.” 

The covid-19 pandemic has led to strict restrictions on gyms so Team Tri Fit has limited the number of people allowed inside and they’ve been able to adjust using outdoor spaces more but organizing triathlons has been difficult. The coastal areas host a few competitions each year but the pandemic has not allowed any to take place within the past year. 

People are interested in joining Team Tri Fit to get more fit or requiring the structured regimen a gym provides in their fitness routine. Most hear good things from their friends about the program or are motivated by the social media posts and join the team. 

Michael’s hard work is paying off each year as he improves gym facilities and attracts a wider range of trainees. It’s unclear what the future holds but the best for Kenya’s triathletes is certainly on its way with Michael’s help.

Nunu’s background as a tech management consultant was rewarding but did not give her the creative outlet she desired. Learning graphic design eventually led to exploring batik and textile art. 

“I changed my career after my kids grew and I wanted to learn something artistic. Graphic design led me to explore batik. I spent 5 years in the process, learning, taking tutorials, watching youtube videos. The learning curve was high because I was teaching myself. But that also helped me develop my own technique that other people are not doing.” says Nunu. “I really didn’t expect to come to where I am today. I learned a lot. It pushes me. I’m challenged. Once I got a taste of that I was addicted.”

Nunu cites an intensive 3-day course with an Indonesian batik master to be an experience that took her craft to another level. Batik is said to have emerged in Indonesia two thousand years ago and its presence there predates written records. Java is the most popular region for this particular textile art. 

Sudanese people knew of the technique since the 12th century, according to the ancient Sudanese Manuscripts. Yoruba people in Nigeria and Soninke and Wolof people in Senegal also practiced the technique but replaced beeswax with cassava starch or rice paste. 

“I wanted to explore handmade batik. A lot of fabric today is machine-made. This fabric is my canvas. It’s like a painting. I take that piece and turn it into clothing. A lot of my pieces turn into functional art that way.” 

Nunu’s go-to fabric is all-natural, often locally sourced cotton and linen purchased from Addisu Gebaye Weavers Association. She’s found synthetic fabric doesn’t work well but handspun and handwoven fabric absorbs dye well. She’s used machine-made cotton or silk but found these fabrics don’t respond as well as handwoven textile. 

The beeswax used in her batik is also locally sourced from honey farmers. Beeswax is traditionally used to outline the sections of the fabric the artist wants to protect from the dye. The dye is a non-toxic eco-friendly fabric dye. “One thing I’d like to change in my process is to use less water. Fabric dying takes a lot of water. I know these things have to be sustainable. I’m finding ways of recycling the water but it’s going to take time. Hopefully, when I scale up and have a bigger studio it will be better.” 

Nunu employs a simple stamping technique to create some of the patterns but primarily directly hand-paints designs onto the fabric. “My focus is painting, just like an art piece. It’s more labor-intensive but my interest is that. When I create a piece there’s only one of it. It’s unique that way.” 

It could take 2-4 weeks to produce one fabric and Nunu employs one full-time and one part-time assistant she hopes will start their own business making batik once they leave her workshop. 

The designs on these batiks have some elements that can distinguish the Ethiopian inspirations. Some patterns like the cross, the Saba eyes/face or the Axum obelisk are visible but Nunu has abstracted these symbols, simplifying and adding a contemporary feel to the images. Some designs are influenced by pan-Africanism, a perspective she says is important to her. There are geometric designs identifiable as distinctly African. The color schemes are bright and eye-catching while other items are sleek and edgy. 

“I have found the best way it works is to surrender to the process. Not too much planning. That’s really when my best work comes out. It’s really hard to do that but I have to trust the process.” 

Textile art has been a part of Ethiopian history for centuries. Whether it’s the traditional hand weaving technique of shimena or the intricate designs of tibeb, designing patterns on fabric is old. More contemporary iterations are evident in the vibrant and powerful landscape crochet and spinning of Meron Hailu and the mesmerizing cotton-spinning of Konjit Seyoum and the social and political commentary of Kirubel Melke in his jean-fabric collages. 

The transition of making these unique pieces of textile art into wearable clothes was daunting for Nunu. “Turning textile into things women will wear was difficult to me. I don’t have a fashion background. I know what I like and what I want to wear but doing it for other women was very foreign to me.” 

This realization led to a partnership with Yefikir Design. Designer Fikirte Addis accepted batik from Nunu and created 4 simple designs that would highlight the unique designs of the fabric. Ethiopian Batik has been used to make scarves, bags, floor-length dresses, and coats. 

“Fikirte is an amazing designer. She has a zero-waste design philosophy. That’s something I’ve learned from her. She’s conscientious in terms of cutting things out.” 

As fast fashion has engulfed our markets, it’s become harder to find affordable and sustainable clothes in Ethiopia. But Nunu says there’s hope yet.

“As a consumer who goes out shopping, I think there’s a lot of talent here. There are great designers, especially for people working in a place where resources are limited. Their work is phenomenal. There are many young women doing brilliant stuff making traditional fabric more contemporary.” Nunu especially appreciates the works of African Mosaic as a strong institution supporting and educating young designers as well as the works of designers like Kunjina and Haymanot Honelign. But she wonders if there’s a big market where their work will be appreciated. 

“People want the branded stuff like Chanel and Gucci rather than invest in local designers. No one really knows batik here so I think it’s my job to educate people too. Shimena doesn’t get a big reaction from customers here. People take it for granted. That’s what makes it really exciting to me though. Getting the organic cotton, the spinning and weaving, knowing how many hands it’s touched — it’s exciting.” 

Traditional shemanes are often undervalued. Underpaid and underappreciated, their jobs are gradually being replaced by machines and cheap manufacturing methods. Traditional fabric will eventually become harder to purchase as cheaper items will be produced in Asian factories. This practice is already growing and is likely to worsen in the future if traditional weavers and their craft are not respected enough. Nunu often works with Tibeb Shema Works, a producer-owned social enterprise located in Bahirdar that produces various handspun and traditionally woven fabric. “These are the resources we need to use. Why buy other fabric that’s not as high quality when you can find it made right here?” she says. 

The textile industry has been growing in the past few years as markets opened to foreign investment and brought giant factories that often supply to popular brands in the west like H&M and Gap. The poor working conditions and high turnover rate are well recorded in these industrial parks but these factories have continued to produce work without the necessary government regulations to ensure worker safety and wellbeing. The products produced in these industrial parks are not available for local consumers, instead, they’re exported to international markets. The utilization of local resources to the benefit of people in Ethiopia should be a primary concern for the Ethiopian Investment Commission and other bodies facilitating the entry of these foreign companies. 

Nunu’s textile art was initially met with confusion as consumers couldn’t fathom what to do with the fabric. Turning batik into clothes illustrated the various uses of the fabric and customers have been more receptive since. “Ethiopian customers are changing fast. Customers have taken to it in just the span of a year,” she explains.

“This presented me with a unique opportunity to something original in a medium that was not widely known and understood in Ethiopia,” says Christian Tarekegne, who was involved in story development and writing. “I have always been an avid reader of comic books; so when Fanuel approached me about his plan to do a comic book, I jumped at the opportunity. It has not been easy as we were all new to the medium and the work process. It was also difficult juggling between day jobs that were very demanding, trying to do the comic book while also doing other freelance work.” 

Tsegaw Tesfaw, who is the co-creator of the comic book and works as an illustrator says he’s grown a lot through the experience of working on Qedamawi. “Working on the story, I learned much about Ethiopian and African history and cultures. Working on the illustrations has honed my artistic craft. The comic book requires dedication and energy; thus, it is both exciting and frustrating. Looking at a finished scene has a great satisfaction.” 

Although it has taken longer than expected to make the comic book a reality, Fanuel is proud of the work they have produced. “I think we’ve used our imagination without being beaten by circumstances. Imagining 2000+ years into the past is difficult. Imagination is liberation. We can overcome much that way. It helps reconnect with our humanity.”

Qedamawi works around geographical, linguistic, and ethnic divisions that may have existed at that time by blending many elements together. Names, clothing styles, and other distinctions are blurred by crossing boundaries. They consulted with a translator and a linguistic expert trying to pin down the specific dialects and speech patterns that were popular during that period. 

Christian describes the comic as original, authentic, cultured, and modern. “What we have tried to do was to showcase Ethiopian culture in an alternate setting, though the world is fictional most of its design and its characters are inspired from Ethiopian history and legends ‘afe tarik’ that don’t get much light these days. We took small elements here and there and built a fictional world around it.” 

The first time Fanuel’s work engaged with a large audience was when he created some images in commemoration of the 122nd Adwa victory celebration. “A lot of artworks are released around that event. But the quality was not good and usually, there is no storytelling involved in those images. I wanted to make something that was concrete and relevant to Ethiopians and Africans.” 

This work was inspired by Captain America. “I wanted to make something that gave goosebumps when you saw it and reflected the heroism of that era.” Hearing positive feedback from this illustration, Fanuel was motivated to create more Ethiopian work and eventually came to the idea of working on Qedamawi. 

Fanuel studied at Ale School of Fine Art and Design which he says helped him develop his skills as a graphic designer. His experimentations led to his growing interest in Afrofuturism. 

“I started doing this by accident. People’s feedback compelled me to try further. I still paint, do graphic design. I’m interested in design. I think art school exposes people to many disciplines without fully grasping one fully. I’ve figured out what to focus on so I’ll keep doing this for a while.”

The influence of Afrofuturism in comics, novels, films, and music has grown in the last several decades. Although first coined to apply to African Diaspora communities, the concepts have “developed within Africa to encompass a lot of creative work and cultural practices. 

“A lot of my works revolve around one concept. What we value as Africans is tradition. We want to pass it on to the future generation. It is expressed in places, objects, jobs. However much we progress, these things remain because they’re part of our identity.” 

Fanuel raises the example of a cyborg bull to illustrate his point. It might not be functional, at least in the world of today, but elements of it serve a purpose – transmitting the cultural codes of a culture’s reality and its expressions of beauty. 

Afro-futurism is a philosophy and cultural aesthetic that blends culture and tradition with technology. The way it is often utilized by Africans is as a means of reimagining what the future could look like in a world that is dictated by Africans themselves. It is a tool for envisioning empowered possibilities. 

Fanuel’s works are bright, powerful, and detailed. Characters may be located in vast uninhabited, almost desert-like locations but their presence signifies an immense pool of power and adaptability. They hold striking poses, blending elements of various cultures without conflict. In Time Shepard, a young boy in a red patterned scarf embraces a techno-lamb, perhaps the electric sheep of which androids dream.  

“They have a superhero feel to them. I like dramatic things. I think that conveys their strength. I’m more proficient in this style too. I like it.” The characters Fanuel illustrates seem inspired by black steampunk elements like flying/driving goggles, top hats, canes as well as gadgets that often appear in futuristic visual storytelling. 

“A lot of things we imagine now will likely come true in the future. It’s a way of transcending our current challenges. As Africans, it’s important to imagine the future. The future has been determined by white people for a long time and we must define it for ourselves. Afrofuturism can be a force of influence in this way.” he explains. “We are determining our future by reawakening the spirit. Imagination feeds the spirit.”

ARMA Advertising has been the leading organization specializing in motion graphics and animations in Addis Ababa since its establishment in 2015. The people behind ARMA Advertising have never limited their scope to the growing world of advertising. Their sights have often been set to the future, following patterns and predicting what’s to come. They dip their hands in multiple sectors, waiting to see how it pans out. Fetena is their education app designed to support high school students excel in national standardized exams. Supplier Ethiopia is the lesser known platform that connects businesses and individuals with product and service suppliers. Freelance Ethiopia is another product they launched that has been growing in popularity for years now. 

Freelance Ethiopia began operation in 2018 after co-founders Semegn Tadesse, Michael Berhanu, and Eyoeal Kefyalew needed to hire a few people for freelance work. The telegram channel kept attracting an increasing number of people and companies and individuals looking for someone to hire found this platform easy to use. 

“Many people don’t know how to click the apply or send button on their cellphones let alone write CVs,” says Michael, explaining how multiple trials and errors had led them to simplify steps to apply for a job on Freelance Ethiopia. These problems also encouraged the team to develop a CV generator people can use. 

Freelance Ethiopia has over 108,000 subscribers, more than half of whom keep the channel unmuted. A recent survey they conducted using their homegrown research tool Masero Insights found that although the channel was first created to a growing gig market economy and catered to freelance, contractual, or part-time workers, 67% of the people on the channel are searching for permanent employment. Most available jobs are in sales, IT, tutoring, and the creative sector. Universities, international NGOs, largest firms in the country all advertise jobs on Freelance Ethiopia and the channel has grown a lot since it began operations. So why is it so popular? 

“Some organizations fear saying they posted on Freelance so they use aliases. We get feedback from employees so we know who’s hiring them. I think they don’t know what Freelance Ethiopia is; so, they’re not sure if they should be associated with it or not.” 

HR companies connecting employees with jobs work through websites and in-person meetings, employers pay annual subscription fees to use their services and often focus on high-level corporate jobs. Freelance Ethiopia has been able to penetrate a formerly unregarded user base by targeting entry and mid level jobs using highly accessible technology. Telegram is the most used mobile app in the country and one can post a job opening, interview, and hire them in just 48 hours. The Freelance Ethiopia app exists but its resources have been focused on developing the telegram channel. “We realized tech has to be tailored to Ethiopia. That’s why telegram is so popular. Not everyone is tech-savvy and this is easy to use,” explains Eyoeal. Offering this service for free of course contributes to its growing client base. 

The ARMA team has been running this channel for free since its launch and making improvements have been expensive, they say. “We aren’t generating any money. We can see multiple HR organizations using our platform. There are new companies hiring their entire staff from the ground up through us. But creating new features, debugging, customer service, and the time it takes are all costly.” The team is determined to keep the current features free while adding monetizable features like screening applicants, headhunting, generating job descriptions, and creating contracts through AI they plan on developing. 

“Small and Medium Enterprises account for 70% of employment nationwide but they’re underrepresented and undervalued. We’re trying to cater to them. We don’t discriminate corporate but their HR departments should be capable of taking care of their needs. Our product design is focused on SMEs. We want to become the largest HR platform for SMEs all over Ethiopia.” explains Semegn. 

The Job Creation Commission says the national unemployment rate is 4.5% but puts unemployment in Addis Ababa alone around 24% as of 2013. In light of great shifts in the economic and political landscape in the country, as well as the lack of baseline information on population statistics, this data should be taken with a grain of salt. Data from 2018 puts unemployment in urban areas at 18%. According to Freelance Ethiopia’s research, two-third of their employees have university degrees and 67% are currently unemployed. 50% of employees do not work in fields they studied in university, the majority of which studied engineering. 

“The education system is already problematic; so, we can’t expect the job market to solve problems,” they say. “You don’t push people to find jobs because you’re pushing them into nothing. Unemployment and underemployment will be the biggest threat we’ll be facing in the next ten years. We’re not creating value in the economy, if we’re selling air,” adds Semegn. 

Technology is evolving exponentially and the jobs we create and train for have to grow along with that. They add that developing a culture of internships in high school and university could help young people understand the world of work and clarify what they’d like to do in the future. Freelance Ethiopia’s next step involves taking on the responsibility of contributing 10-15% of the national goal to curb the unemployment rate. They are planning on launching a system that relies on SMS and call centers to connect job seekers to employment opportunities – all accessible offline and with no in-person contact. 

“We can do things from the ground up and guide policy instead of thinking of one large plan. If our solution works out, we’re planning on replicating this throughout Africa.”