Ethiopia’s electoral process has long been intertwined with its turbulent political history. The 2018 political transition ignited hopes for democratic renewal, following decades of tightly controlled politics. However, those hopes have since dimmed under the weight of conflict, fragmentation, and authoritarian drift. The postponed 2021 elections—which were not held in some regions—exposed the logistical, political, and security obstacles that still haunt the country’s path toward genuine democratic governance. Today, as the next polls approach, many of those same challenges remain unresolved or have even deepened.

The foremost challenge is security. The government’s determination to hold elections nationwide collides with a sobering reality: large parts of Ethiopia remain insecure or under the shadow of conflict. In Amhara, persistent clashes between federal forces and local militias have disrupted governance and daily life. In Oromia, armed insurgencies and counterinsurgency operations continue to claim lives and displace civilians. The Somali and Benishangul Gumuz regions face intermittent instability tied to political grievances and border tensions. Meanwhile, parts of Tigray are still struggling to recover from the devastating war and its humanitarian aftermath. Conducting elections in such conditions is not simply a logistical problem—it is a matter of legitimacy and safety. Ballot boxes and voter cards mean little when citizens cannot move freely, when polling stations risk attack, or when displaced populations are excluded.

Political fragmentation and lack of consensus are also contributing factors. Ethiopia’s political class remains bitterly divided. Opposition parties are fragmented, many have faced restrictions or intimidation, and some operate in exile. Accusations of harassment, arbitrary arrests, and limited media access persist, undermining the credibility of the political process. The National Election Board of Ethiopia (NEBE), once hailed as a symbol of reform, now faces mounting criticism from opposition groups who accuse it of bias and lack of independence. Without a broad-based political agreement on the rules of engagement, the next elections risk deepening divisions rather than healing them. Institutional weakness further compounds the problem. Effective elections require functioning local administrations, professional security forces, and a judiciary capable of resolving disputes fairly. Yet many local governments are paralyzed by insecurity or political interference, while the justice system struggles with credibility and capacity. The NEBE itself faces resource constraints, logistical hurdles, and the daunting task of registering tens of millions of voters—many of whom live in areas affected by displacement or poor infrastructure. Unless these institutions are strengthened and insulated from political manipulation, the credibility of the process will be in serious doubt.

Equally serious is the erosion of public trust. Ordinary Ethiopians, weary of conflict and political instability, increasingly doubt whether elections can bring meaningful change. Cynicism is spreading as citizens see promises of reform overshadowed by violence, repression, and unfulfilled pledges. In regions where armed groups or local elites hold sway, voters may feel coerced or disempowered. If people perceive elections as predetermined or irrelevant, voter apathy could undermine participation, while contested outcomes could trigger renewed unrest.

Still, postponing elections indefinitely is not a viable solution either. Doing so risks entrenching authoritarianism and feeding the narrative that democratic processes must wait for “perfect conditions” that may never come. Ethiopia must, therefore, strike a difficult balance: upholding the constitutional timeline while ensuring that the process is credible, inclusive, and secure enough to reflect the people’s will. That balance will require both political courage and pragmatic compromise.

Meeting these challenges requires taking a host of essential, enabling steps. To begin with the government must attach priority to peacebuilding as an electoral prerequisite. National elections cannot succeed against the backdrop of open conflict. A serious effort must be made to secure ceasefires or negotiated arrangements in conflict-affected regions, allowing for safe voter registration and campaigning. Peace should not be treated as a separate track from the elections—it must be integrated into the electoral roadmap. Engaging community elders, religious leaders, and civil society organizations in local peacebuilding is sure to help reduce tensions and create minimal conditions for participation. Efforts to address security concerns can only succeed where political dialogue is revived and institutionalized. The National Dialogue Commission offers one potential forum, but it must be empowered and inclusive. Bringing together ruling and opposition parties, regional representatives, and civic groups to discuss electoral conditions, security arrangements, and confidence-building measures is critical. A pre-election political pact—covering issues like equitable media access, guarantees for freedom of assembly, and releasing jailed political party leaders/members—could go a long way toward restoring trust.

Furthermore, it is paramount to ensure the independence and strengthen the capacity of the NEBE. This includes assuring adequate funding, transparency in voter registration, and impartial recruitment of local election officials. The NEBE should collaborate closely with regional administrations, civil society, and international partners to enhance transparency and build confidence. Establishing a credible conflict-resolution mechanism for electoral disputes before the polls will also be essential to prevent post-election violence. Efforts to strengthen the electoral board need to be complimented by measures aimed at protecting civic space. A free press, active civil society, and open debate are indispensable to any democratic process. As such the government ought to refrain from using security laws to stifle dissent and instead view criticism as part of a healthy political ecosystem. Media outlets must be allowed to cover the elections freely, and civic groups should be empowered to conduct voter education, observation, and monitoring activities.

Prime Minister Abiy’s insistence on holding the 2026 elections as scheduled may reflect a commitment to constitutional continuity. But timelines alone do not define democracy—trust, fairness, and peace do. Unless Ethiopia addresses its security crises, political polarization, and institutional fragility, the upcoming elections could deepen instability rather than consolidate progress. Ethiopia stands at a crossroads: it can either turn the 2026 elections into a genuine step toward reconciliation and renewal, or it can risk repeating the cycles of exclusion and conflict that have marred its past. The choice is clear—and the work must begin now.

Ethiopia’s recent history illustrates the hard truth that sustained economic growth cannot coexist with recurrent conflict. Over the past five years, political and ethnic violence has disrupted supply chains, displaced millions, and drained public resources. The two-year war in the north alone is estimated to have cost tens of billions of dollars, devastated infrastructure, and eroded investor confidence. Even after the Pretoria Agreement, instability continues to flare in parts of Amhara, Oromia, and other regions, while intercommunal clashes persist across several areas. Every episode of violence diverts funds from development to security, slows trade, and keeps farmers from cultivating their land or businesses from investing. No amount of industrialization strategy or infrastructure spending can offset the economic toll of persistent insecurity.

Peace is not merely a moral or political imperative—it is an economic necessity. For Ethiopia to realistically aspire to become Africa’s biggest economy, it must first secure internal stability and social cohesion. Investors—both domestic and foreign—require predictability. Factories, logistics hubs, and energy projects cannot operate efficiently in an environment of curfews, checkpoints, and road blockades. The government’s own budget data shows a growing share of expenditure going to defense and security at the expense of social programs and capital projects. Unless this balance changes Ethiopia’s growth potential will remain hostage to its unresolved political conflicts.

Beyond peace, political inclusivity is essential for durable economic progress. The country’s federal system was designed to accommodate its diversity, but in practice, disputes over power-sharing and regional autonomy have become flashpoints for conflict. Efforts at centralization have met resistance, while regional administrations complain about being marginalized or under-resourced. The absence of a sustained, national dialogue on Ethiopia’s political future has left grievances to fester. Without a genuine process that allows all communities—large and small—to have a stake in the state, peace will remain fragile. And without peace, the economy cannot thrive.

In this context, PM Abiy’s projection, though visionary, risks sounding disconnected from Ethiopia’s day-to-day realities. The challenges are enormous: inflation remains in double digits, the birr continues to depreciate, unemployment is high, and external debt pressures are mounting. Foreign direct investment has not grown at the desired level due to instability and policy uncertainty, while exports remain overly dependent on coffee and gold. Infrastructure gaps in energy, transport, and digital connectivity persist, and many manufacturing zones built under the industrialization drive are operating below capacity. None of these problems can be solved through ambition alone. They demand a stable political environment where long-term planning is possible and confidence in governance is restored. The comparison with Africa’s leading economies—Nigeria, Egypt, and South Africa—makes this even clearer. These countries, despite their own difficulties, have built institutional frameworks that sustain growth over time. Ethiopia’s current per capita income and GDP size remain far below theirs. To close the gap within ten years, the country would need double-digit growth every year, coupled with a massive expansion in export capacity and industrial output. That kind of economic acceleration requires not only sound macroeconomic policies but also peace, consistent rule of law, and trust in public institutions.

A peaceful environment would unlock Ethiopia’s immense potential. The country’s energy sector, anchored by the Grand Ethiopian Renaissance Dam, could make it a regional power exporter. Its fertile lands could support large-scale agro-industrialization. Its young population could drive innovation and productivity, particularly in technology and manufacturing. But these advantages cannot be realized if conflicts continue to paralyze transport routes, displace communities, and divert youth from productive work to armed movements. Peace creates the stability investors need, encourages remittances from the diaspora, and enables the government to focus on critical reforms in taxation, land policy, and financial liberalization.

To move from aspiration to reality, Ethiopia must therefore attach priority to three interrelated objectives: peacebuilding, political consensus, and institutional reform. First, peacebuilding means more than ceasefires; it requires addressing the root causes of conflict—land disputes, competition for resources, and questions of political representation. Genuine dialogue among political forces and communities must replace the logic of zero-sum politics. Second, building political consensus around Ethiopia’s constitutional and governance framework is vital. A shared understanding of federalism, citizenship, and decentralization can defuse tensions that repeatedly derail progress. Third, institutional reform is critical to ensure that economic opportunities are distributed fairly, corruption is curtailed, and the rule of law prevails.

The Prime Minister’s economic vision can serve as a useful rallying point—but only if it is matched by an equally bold peace agenda. The government should channel as much energy into reconciliation and justice as it does into development planning. Rebuilding trust among citizens, ensuring freedom of movement, and opening space for dialogue with opposition and civil society are not distractions from the economic agenda; they are preconditions for it. Without political stability, even the most ambitious reforms will be built on sand.

Ethiopia’s future can indeed be bright. The nation has defied odds before, turning poverty and isolation into progress through determination and collective effort. But economic miracles do not occur in the shadow of war. The road to becoming Africa’s largest economy runs not through military might or rhetoric, but through peace, inclusion, and trust. If Prime Minister Abiy’s vision is to be realized, it must begin with the recognition that growth and stability are inseparable—and that peace is the first and most vital investment Ethiopia must make.

The EHRC’s findings are stark. Key roads that connect people in remote or vulnerable zones to markets, hospitals, schools, and relatives remain impassable due to threats from armed groups. And while there are occasional security escorts, they are unreliable and insufficient to offset the far wider human cost.  Along those roads, abductions have become tragically common. Passengers are taken, sometimes shot if they attempt escape, held for ransom in sums unspeakably high, and in one case, Red Cross workers were abducted during ambulance duty, one of them tragically dying. Prolonged curfews and indefinite road closures, imposed by both state and non-state actors, compound the suffering. Needless to say it’s defenseless civilians who pay the heaviest price.

These restrictions do not only limit mobility; they undermine people’s rights, dignity, and livelihoods. When citizens cannot practically travel to access basic services, education plunges, health care delayed becomes health care denied, food supply chains are disrupted; jobs become uncertain; and economic opportunities vanish. Markets cannot function if roads are blocked. The right to movement is enshrined in Ethiopia’s Constitution and in treaties the country has ratified. But rights are hollow when daily reality makes them a gamble. The psychological toll of the restriction is profound as well. The constant fear of abduction, sudden closures, or being caught in a nighttime curfew breeds insecurity at the household level. Communities become isolated. Trust in state institutions erodes when people cannot differentiate between protective actions and oppressive ones. Responsibility is diffuse because some of the entities imposing checkpoints and closures are official security forces while others are non-state armed groups, which makes accountability harder. It’s incumbent on all sides to cease acts that endanger civilians, and for security measures to be guided by the principles of necessity and proportionality.

Resolving this complex crisis requires a dual-track approach that combines prompt, effective security measures with long-term structural solutions. So what must be done to correct course? First and foremost, it’s paramount to undertake immediate review and reversal where possible of road closures and long-standing curfews. The government should audit all existing restrictions: are they truly necessary for security? If they are imposed, are they time-bound, clearly communicated, and periodically reassessed? Blanket or indefinite curfews are rarely defensible; measures must be strictly proportionate. The audit must be complemented by measures intended to guarantee better security on vulnerable roads—not just military patrols, but reliable, community-trusted protection. If people can travel safely without fear of abduction or attack, commerce, schooling, health care access, and social connections can return to normal. Escorting people should be a last resort, not an excuse for leaving roads closed.

Ensuring transparency and accountability are of further importance. The EHRC’s report calls for full investigations into abductions, killings, ransom demands, and violence on roads. Perpetrators—whether from non-state armed groups or official forces—must be held accountable. Families of victims deserve justice; public trust demands it. Publishers, civil society, media organizations must be allowed to monitor and publicize such cases without harassment.

In the long-term, where conflict or insecurity is the cause, the solutions lie in peace building, conflict resolution, and inclusive political dialogue. Security measures should go hand in hand with reconciliation, mediation, and transitional justice where needed. The EHRC emphasizes that human rights cannot be sacrificed in the name of security; they are foundational to legitimate and sustainable peace. Reinforcing legislative and judicial safeguards also play a vital role in addressing the root causes of the problem. Laws around curfews, checkpoints, and travel restrictions should explicitly require oversight, clarity of mandate, legality, and the possibility for judicial review. Furthermore, independent monitoring bodies like EHRC need legal backing and protection so they can do their work without fear.

If these steps are taken, freedom of movement can once again become more than a promise. Ethiopia has suffered enough disruptions to its social fabric. Citizens caught in closed roads, midnight curfews, and doomed to pay ransoms for basic travel deserve better. The integrity of national stability depends not on sealing regions off but on opening dialogue, restoring trust, and ensuring that security policies protect rather than punish the citizenry. All stakeholders must act—with urgency, clarity, and justice—lest the very foundations of its society erode under the weight of fear and restriction.

Beneath the immediate accusations lies a complex web of deeper causes. Central to the tension is landlocked Ethiopia’s fervent quest for direct sea access. Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed (PhD) has consistently argued that access to the Red Sea is an economic and strategic imperative for his nation. Eritrea, however, which gained independence from Ethiopia in 1993 and with it control of the coastline, views this ambition as a direct threat to its territorial integrity and sovereignty. Analysts suggest that Ethiopia’s determination to acquire a port, potentially even the Eritrean port of Assab, is a driving force behind its foreign policy. The current animosity is particularly striking given the recent past. Just years ago, Eritrea fought alongside the Ethiopian federal army against the TPLF during the devastating Tigray War (2020-2022). However, Eritrea’s exclusion from the 2022 Pretoria Agreement that ended the war was seen as a sharp rebuke in Asmara and shattered that fragile alliance. The peace deal intended to end one conflict has inadvertently sown the seeds for another.

The threat also reflect the resurgence of interference in the internal affairs of each other. Both nations are now accused of leveraging proxy forces. Ethiopia alleges Eritrea is collaborating with TPLF factions and Fano militias in Amhara. Conversely, Ethiopia itself has been reported to support Eritrean rebel groups like the Red Sea Afar Democratic Organisation (RSADO). This proxy warfare destabilizes the entire region, turning internal Ethiopian conflicts into a theater for a wider interstate rivalry. The nature of the Eritrean state, under the lifelong rule of President Isaias Afwerki, further exacerbates the crisis. Described as one of the world’s most secretive dictatorships, Eritrea maintains an iron grip on its population through indefinite military conscription and severe repression of basic freedoms. This internal control makes the regime unpredictable in its external relations and highly resistant to international pressure.

The ramifications of this brewing crisis are wide and dangerous. At the most immediate level, renewed hostilities would risk reigniting large-scale violence, displacement, and humanitarian fallout. The Tigray conflict already exposed the high costs of war: broken institutions, fractured trust, and mass suffering. The conflict would inevitably spill over borders. It could draw in neighboring states like Sudan, which has its own territorial disputes with Ethiopia, and Egypt, which has strained relations with Addis Ababa over the Nile River and has recently strengthened ties with Eritrea.  Moreover, any escalation could derail fragile peace processes, including those tied to the Ethiopia–Tigray Pretoria Agreement, which remains precarious.

Given both Ethiopia and Eritrea are economically vulnerable war is certain to be ruinous and shatter their economies. Military mobilization and defense expenditures consume public resources needed for development. Investor confidence would expire overnight. Trade routes, infrastructure projects, cross-border commerce would be disrupted. Regions near the border would be especially vulnerable to disruption, losing access to markets or falling into insecurity. Ethiopia’s attempts to diversify its economy through agriculture, mining, and energy depend on peace; conflict would set back those ambitions drastically. Human rights violations and impunity are of further concern as well. Eritrea and Ethiopia both carry legacies of brutal conduct, including documented violations in Tigray and Amhara involving both Eritrean and Ethiopian forces. Increased conflict would almost certainly reopen those scars: violations, civilian casualties, forced displacement, and renewed trauma.

Going forward averting the looming catastrophe requires a concerted and urgent effort. Amid the tensions, there is still a narrow window for preventive action. First and foremost, diplomatic channels must be reopened immediately. Ethiopia and Eritrea should suspend accusatory rhetoric and commit to mediated dialogue—a neutral third party, such as the African Union or the United Nations, could help ensure a ceasefire or de-escalation mechanism. Ethiopia’s own foreign minister has said Addis is ready for “good faith negotiations” and seeks institutionalized integration that respects sovereignty. Chief among the measures that needs to be taken to lower the temperature is to address Ethiopia’s legitimate desire for sea access in a manner that is decoupled from the immediate war footing. As such the international community should facilitate good-faith, multilateral negotiations involving Djibouti, Somaliland, and other regional actors to find a peaceful, legal, and mutually beneficial solution for port access, rather than allowing it to be a casus belli. In the meantime it’s also incumbent on other entities like the Intergovernmental Authority on Development (IGAD), the African Union, the East African Community, and external partners (EU, U.S., China) to collectively press for restraint, monitor troop movements, and offer guarantees.

The people of the Horn of Africa have endured generations of war. The brewing conflict between Ethiopia and Eritrea is a crisis born of failed diplomacy and unchecked ambition, but it is not yet an inevitability. Through relentless diplomacy, a commitment to addressing underlying grievances peacefully, and a unified international response, the drive to war can still be halted. The alternative—a return to widespread slaughter and regional chaos—is a price the world cannot afford to pay.

Mega projects are not inherently problematic; they are vital for growth if properly executed. But by nature, they demand immense resources, advanced expertise, and meticulous oversight. They also carry serious risks, including environmental degradation, unsustainable debt, and disruption of communities. When governments elevate the symbolism of these projects above their practical challenges, they raise public expectations while obscuring the daunting obstacles. Ethiopia’s track record illustrates the danger of this approach. While the GERD continues to symbolize national pride, it has been beset by delays, financing difficulties, and allegations of corruption, many of which were understated in official narratives. Similarly, sugar projects initiated in earlier years collapsed due to poor design, corruption, and a lack of preparation, leaving incomplete factories and wasted billions behind.

The oil refinery, LNG and fertilizer projects risk falling into the same trap if they are reduced to political slogans. For one, their feasibility remains far from clear. Extracting, processing, and refining natural gas is a technically demanding endeavor that requires not only massive upfront investment but also long-term stability, reliable infrastructure, and strong governance. Fertilizer plants, meanwhile, depend on steady supply chains, competitive pricing, and global market integration. Without candid assessments of these factors, the projects could end up as little more than glossy announcements designed to burnish the government’s image rather than transformative undertakings that actually serve the people.

Equally troubling is the lack of transparency about financing. Who is funding these projects, and under what terms? Are they to be financed primarily through external loans, public-private partnerships, or domestic revenue? Given Ethiopia’s debt burden is already heavy, plunging into new multi-billion-dollar commitments without clear public disclosure would be reckless, potentially saddling future generations with obligations that they neither consented to nor benefit from. Citizens have the right to know how their country’s resources are being allocated and what sacrifices will be required.

There is also the question of impact on local communities and the environment. The Somali region has long been one of Ethiopia’s most marginalized areas, with deep-seated grievances over neglect, underdevelopment, and heavy-handed state policies. If mega projects are implemented without genuine consultation and benefit-sharing, they risk exacerbating tensions rather than easing them. Local communities must not simply be spectators or victims of projects imposed from above; they must be partners who have a real voice in how projects are designed, implemented, and managed. Environmental considerations are just as important. From water contamination to greenhouse gas emissions, natural gas extraction, oil refining and industrial-scale fertilizer production both pose ecological risks. Ignoring these issues in the rush to declare quick wins could have devastating long-term consequences for Ethiopia’s fragile ecosystems.

None of this is to argue against the idea of ambitious projects themselves. Ethiopia needs bold investments to unlock its economic potential, particularly in energy, manufacturing, and agriculture. What is being questioned is the political culture that often treats mega projects as symbols of national triumph before they have proven viable, sustainable, or beneficial. A project announced with great ceremony but abandoned midway or saddled with debt does not advance national development—it undermines it. The Ethiopian government must resist the temptation to exploit these initiatives for short-term political mileage. Instead, it should prioritize transparency, accountability, and rigorous feasibility studies.

The first imperative is open disclosure. Feasibility studies, financing arrangements, and environmental impact assessments should be published and made accessible to the public. This helps build public trust and improve the quality of decision-making by exposing weaknesses early on. Second, community participation must be a cornerstone. Residents of the Somali region should be meaningfully engaged in shaping the projects, from land use negotiations to employment opportunities and benefit-sharing mechanisms. Third, financing must be handled prudently. Ethiopia cannot afford to chase prestige projects at the expense of fiscal stability. An approach that balances economic returns, affordability, and sustainability is critical.

The government should further adopt a culture of honest communication with citizens. Rather than presenting mega projects as magic bullets that will deliver instant prosperity, officials must speak frankly about timelines, risks, and trade-offs. Development is a long-term process, and managing expectations is as important as securing investments. If the projects succeed, they should be celebrated not as the triumph of a ruling party, but as collective national achievements. If they face setbacks, Ethiopians deserve candor rather than propaganda.

The ultimate measure of Ethiopia’s mega projects will not be the grandeur of their announcements; it’s the tangible improvements they bring to people’s lives. If the oil refinery, LNG project and fertilizer plant in the Somali region deliver reliable jobs, reduce dependence on imports, generate export revenue, and uplift marginalized communities, they will be historic milestones. But if they are pursued recklessly, as tools of political theatrics, they risk becoming cautionary tales of wasted potential. The Ethiopian government must choose wisely. The country’s future prosperity depends not on the scale of its promises but on the integrity of its actions.

The showing in Tokyo was undeniably poor. While Ethiopian athletes managed to secure a handful of silver and bronze medals, the absence of a gold medal cast a long shadow. This was compounded by the absence of key athletes due to injuries and doping suspensions. Those who did compete often appeared tactically outclassed, struggling to respond to late surges from rivals or to maintain pace in the decisive final laps. Ethiopia’s once-fearsome dominance in the distance events now faces a new reality: other nations have not only caught up but, in many cases, surpassed it.

The reasons for this decline are complex and go beyond a single bad competition. The pipeline for identifying and nurturing young talent has grown unreliable, with inconsistencies in youth development programs and a lack of emphasis on long-term athlete progression. Many regional clubs and schools are more focused on immediate results than building sustainable careers for their athletes. Exacerbating the problem is the state of coaching. While Ethiopia boasts dedicated coaches, the overall system has struggled to keep pace with advances in global sports science, strength and conditioning, and nutrition. These gaps become glaring when Ethiopian runners face competitors who are supported by teams of physiologists, dieticians, and data analysts.

Support systems for athletes are also inadequate. Many do not have consistent access to physiotherapy, recovery facilities, or psychological coaching. Injuries are often mismanaged, and athletes lack the resources to rehabilitate effectively, which leads to shortened careers or underperformance. The Ethiopian Athletics Federation has often faced criticism for inconsistent selection criteria, lack of transparency, and insufficient investment in athlete welfare. The politicization of decision-making and weak oversight has further eroded trust in the system. Increasing doping cases are beginning to tarnish the country’s reputation, creating an environment of suspicion and uncertainty.

Another critical factor is the lack of exposure to competitive environments that replicate the pressures of world championships. Many Ethiopian athletes spend most of their careers running road races or domestic meets, which do not always prepare them for the tactical demands of major competitions involving heats, semifinals, and finals. Rivals such as Kenya have invested heavily in giving their athletes international exposure, sharpening their tactical intelligence and mental resilience. Ethiopia’s relatively limited investment in this area shows in the decisive moments of major races, where tactical awareness often makes the difference between gold and defeat.

Financial and infrastructural challenges add to the difficulty. Elite athletics is no longer a pursuit that can succeed on raw talent and altitude advantage alone. Modern success requires sustained investment in training camps, equipment, nutrition, sports medicine, and international competition opportunities. Funding shortages and sometimes misallocation of resources hinder the preparation and performance of athletes, especially those from disadvantaged backgrounds who rely entirely on the federation for support.

Reversing this trajectory will require bold action. The relevant government agencies in conjunction with the national and regional athletics federations must revitalize talent development pipeline by establishing a well-resourced national program that identifies and nurtures promising athletes from a young age. Coaching must be modernized through training programs that incorporate sports science and international best practices, while medical and rehabilitation services should be expanded to ensure athletes remain healthy and competitive. Participation in international competitions must be increased to give athletes exposure to world-class competition and to sharpen their tactical abilities.

Just as crucially, the Ethiopian Athletics Federation must be reformed to ensure transparency, meritocracy, and accountability in every aspect of its work—from selection criteria to funding allocation and anti-doping compliance. Restoring trust between athletes and administrators is essential to building a cohesive national program. At the same time, the country must secure sustainable funding through a combination of government support, corporate sponsorships, and engagement with the diaspora community. Investments should prioritize long-term capacity building rather than quick fixes aimed at securing short-term medals.

Finally, Ethiopia should embrace data-driven approaches to athlete development and selection, using performance metrics to guide decisions rather than relying solely on subjective judgment. Athletes should receive better psychological support, incentives for consistent performance, and career planning resources to ensure their long-term well-being. These systemic changes, hopefully, will enable Ethiopia to rebuild the foundations of its athletics program and set the stage for a return to global prominence.

The disappointment of Tokyo should not be seen as the end of Ethiopia’s athletics story but as a crucial turning point. The nation still possesses the raw talent, the altitude advantage, and the proud tradition that have made it a force in long-distance running. What is required now is the courage to reform, the discipline to invest wisely, and the vision to build a modern athletics system capable of sustaining excellence. If Ethiopia seizes this moment, the next generation of athletes will be inspired to compete with pride and once again bring home gold medals, restoring the nation’s place at the summit of world athletics.

The long-standing weaknesses that are often cited as the reasons behind past poor national exam performances remain relevant today. Many education experts have long contended that Ethiopia’s education and training policy is a key—if not the principal—factor contributing to the country’s low quality of education, arguing that it prioritizes access over quality. While this policy has undeniably expanded literacy rates over the past decades, the emergence of numerous internal and external challenges during its implementation has had a detrimental effect on educational outcomes. The most pressing of these challenges include the erosion of meritocracy and accountability due to politicization of the education system, a chronic shortage of educational infrastructure and materials, low teacher quality and inadequate working conditions, and the disruptive effects of recurring internal conflicts.

The consequences of this year’s dismal exam results are far-reaching. Poor performance limits students’ opportunities for higher education, closing off pathways to personal and professional advancement. This represents a massive loss of human potential and stifles the ambitions of countless students. Persistent underperformance in national exams points to systemic failures—ranging from weak teaching standards and ill-designed curricula to a lack of learning resources—suggesting that students are not being equipped with essential knowledge or critical thinking skills needed for success.

The economic repercussions of weak education outcomes are profound. A workforce lacking key skills and competencies slows economic growth, hinders productivity, and diminishes Ethiopia’s ability to compete globally. As the nation strives to lift itself out of poverty, a skilled and well-educated population is vital to spur innovation, boost productivity, and attract foreign investment. The continued poor performance of students limits the creation of a competitive labor market, delaying Ethiopia’s industrialization and economic ambitions. Moreover, the swelling number of young people unable to enter universities risks exacerbating youth unemployment and could lead to widespread frustration and social unrest, posing serious political risks.

Teachers and educators also feel the effects of these outcomes. Poor results can sap morale, leaving educators feeling unsupported or unfairly blamed, which in turn breeds frustration and disengagement. This can create a vicious cycle in which demotivated teachers deliver lower-quality instruction, deepening the crisis in the education sector.

Tackling the crisis of poor Grade 12 exam performance demands a comprehensive, multi-stakeholder approach. Simply attributing the problem to past governments or weak student proficiency is insufficient and counterproductive. While the government bears primary responsibility for leading reform, meaningful progress cannot be achieved without the active involvement of students, parents, teachers, and school administrators. What is urgently needed is a thorough review of the underlying factors eroding education quality, the development of a practical roadmap based on both domestic and international best practices, a robust system of accountability in education administration, adequate investment of human, financial, and material resources within available means, and mobilization of public support for reforms. Without such coordinated and sustained action, the barriers to delivering quality secondary education in Ethiopia will persist, continuing to undermine the nation’s development aspirations.

The most severe test of 2017 came in the form of intensifying clashes between government forces and insurgent groups in several regions. These conflicts, rooted in grievances over representation, inequality, and justice, led to loss of life, injuries, kidnappings, and widespread destruction of property. Schools, health services, transportation, and other access were frequently disrupted, compounding the suffering. Human rights abuses—committed by both the state and armed groups—deepened the crisis, fueling instability and threatening national cohesion. The persistence of arbitrary arrests, extrajudicial killings, restrictions on free speech and assembly through administrative measures as well as the enactment of laws that rolled back the gains made during the early years of the current administration, further alienated citizens and drew criticism from the international community, tarnishing Ethiopia’s global image. With no discernible prospects of an immediate end to the ongoing violence, many fear that the turmoil racking the nation will not de-escalate in 2018.

The economy offered little respite. Longstanding macroeconomic weaknesses made 2017 especially difficult for ordinary Ethiopians. Soaring prices for essential goods and services—exacerbated by the political crisis—hit the poorest the hardest. Despite government interventions meant to curb inflation and ease the cost of living, officials themselves conceded that the measures largely failed to ease the hardship faced by the majority poor. Food, utilities, housing, transport, education, and healthcare costs all remained painfully high, and some initiatives even worsened the situation. Although external factors contributed, domestic missteps were the primary drivers of inflation. The sharp depreciation of the birr following the government’s decision to float the currency over a year ago is likely to push prices even higher in 2018.

Beyond politics and economics, youth unemployment and the poor quality of education also weighed heavily on the country. With young people making up a large share of Ethiopia’s population, the lack of adequate education and job opportunities created frustration and unrest. The mismatch between graduates’ skills and the labor market left many educated youths unemployed, fueling social tension. On top of this, the country continued to be gripped in the throes of food insecurity, with over 21 million citizens left needing humanitarian assistance, including a significant number relying on food assistance due to a worsening food security crisis. This need stemmed from the compounding impacts of conflict, climate shocks like drought, disease outbreaks, and economic challenges.

If 2018 is to mark a turn toward peace and progress, Ethiopia must confront these overlapping crises through comprehensive and coordinated action. The path forward ideally includes, among others, the conclusion of the national dialogue underway in a manner that addresses the credibility and effectiveness issues blighting it so as to heal divisions and promote reconciliation, good governance, and accountability; breathing life into the stalled transitional justice process; macroeconomic reforms to stabilize prices and encourage investment; protection of civil liberties and human rights; investment in quality education and programs to tackle youth unemployment; and robust efforts to fight food insecurity by boosting agricultural productivity and building resilience to drought and climate shocks. If Ethiopia is to chart a course toward a future where its citizenry are able to lead a life of peace, democracy, justice and dignity, it is absolutely imperative to pursue these priorities wholeheartedly. May the New Year bring peace, justice, and hope to all Ethiopians.

GERD is nothing short of a game-changer. With a generating capacity exceeding 5.15-gigawatt, it will double Ethiopia’s electricity output—lighting homes, powering industries, and lifting entire communities out of energy poverty. In a country where roughly half the population still lacks reliable access, it potentially raises national electrification rates to 70 percent by 2030—a leap that is seismic. Beyond domestic gains, GERD positions Ethiopia as an emerging renewable energy hub. Already exporting power to Sudan, it lays the groundwork for broader regional integration—part of a larger vision encompassing industrialization, job creation, agricultural modernization, and even climate resilience through reduced reliance on wood fuel.

From conception to completion the GERD’s journey has been fraught with geopolitical strife, financial hurdles, and technical challenges. Its construction ignited a diplomatic crisis with downstream nations, Egypt and Sudan, which has not been resolved to date. Egypt, which depends on the Nile for some 90 percent of its water, views the dam as an existential threat, citing colonial-era treaties that granted it disproportionate control over the river’s resources while Sudan worries about dam safety and regulated water release during droughts. Ethiopia, contributing 86 percent of the Nile’s waters, rejects these treaties as anachronistic and unjust. Negotiations were fraught with discord. Egypt sought international mediation and moved the U.N Security Council to adopt a resolution no less than a dozen times, albeit to no avail. It even threatened military action. Meanwhile, Ethiopia insisted on African Union-led discussions. The dispute often spilled into cyber warfare, with social media campaigns and hacking attacks exacerbating tensions. Despite these challenges, Ethiopia proceeded with the dam’s filling phases, leveraging its geopolitical position and regional support.

The GERD’s construction was also beset with technical hurdles and corruption. Built in a remote region near the Sudanese border, the project required extensive infrastructure development, including access roads and worker settlements. Engineers faced seismic risks, harsh climatic conditions affecting concrete curing, and the Blue Nile’s high sediment load, which threatened reservoir sustainability. Sediment management became a critical concern, with studies showing higher-than-expected sediment yields due to land degradation in the Ethiopian highlands. Corruption further shadowed the project— officials of the state-owned Metal and Engineering Corporation (METEC) faced allegations of embezzlement that reached the upper echelons of power.

The GERD’s operationalization holds immense potential for Ethiopia and the Horn of Africa. It is expected to generate 15.76 terawatt-hours of electricity annually, replacing power production through diesel generation and expanding power exports to Sudan, Kenya, and Djibouti. This could earn Ethiopia billions in annual revenue, easing foreign exchange shortages. Moreover, the GERD offers regional benefits, including flood control for Sudan, reduced siltation downstream, and opportunities for economic integration through the Eastern African Power Pool. However, realizing this potential requires significant investments in grid infrastructure and transmission networks, which remain underdeveloped.

Despite its inauguration, the GERD’s legacy will depend on Ethiopia’s ability to navigate ongoing challenges. Diplomatic tensions with Egypt and Sudan persist, particularly regarding water-sharing during droughts. Ethiopia must also address domestic infrastructure gaps to ensure equitable electricity distribution and maximize the dam’s economic impact. Environmentally, sustainable sediment management and climate adaptation will be critical for the dam’s longevity. The GERD represents a turning point in Nile Basin dynamics, challenging Egypt’s historical hegemony and inspiring upstream nations to pursue their own development projects. As Ethiopia harnesses the dam’s potential, it must balance national interests with regional cooperation, ensuring that the GERD becomes a catalyst for shared prosperity rather than conflict.

The GERD is more than a dam; it is a testament to Ethiopia’s unwavering ambition and resilience. From overcoming geopolitical pressure to tackling technical and financial hurdles, the project exemplifies what a determined nation can achieve through self-reliance and unity. As the turbines begin to spin, they bring not just light to Ethiopian homes but also a renewed sense of pride and possibility. The GERD’s inauguration is a milestone. But its true success will be measured in its ability to transform lives and foster a more equitable and integrated future for the region as well as nurturing trust—among Ethiopians, with neighbors, and with generations to come.

The scale of the stakes remains staggering. The original Mbeki Panel estimated at least USD 50 billion illicitly leaves the continent each year—roughly the same magnitude as annual aid at the time. UNCTAD later put the figure at USD 89 billion for 2020 alone. In extractives, the UN Economic Commission for Africa (ECA) recently warned that about USD 40 billion is siphoned from the sector annually. Behind these headline losses are human consequences: fewer classrooms and clinics, under-funded infrastructure, and a persistent squeeze on domestic resource mobilization. The report also highlights coordination politics. According to independent reporting, a consortium set up to stem IFFs has been hobbled by overlapping mandates, turf wars among institutions mandated with combating the malaise, and tensions between donors—the very challenges the Mbeki recommendations were intended to avert.

There are a host of initiatives that African nations can and must take both individually and collectively to squarely address the report’s diagnosis. First, make beneficial ownership (BO) transparency real, usable and regional. The report points to progress in creating BO databases, but also the Achilles’ heel: data quality, verification, and access. Africa should move from scattered registries to interoperable, query-ready platforms that permit competent authorities timely access and enable cross-border checks. As such it is vital build on the regional approach AU’s tax and IFF sub-committee is already contemplating by adopting, among others, common data standards and credible sanctions for non-filing or false filing.

As one of the activities most affected by IFFs, the due diligence on the extractives—where trade mis-invoicing and opaque contract terms remain primary channels of outflows— ought to garner top priority. Governments should mandate model mining and petroleum contracts, public disclosure of all extractive agreements, and independent valuation of high-risk exports (notably gold). In this regard they should consider tackling abusive related-party pricing in mineral value chains. The ECA’s USD 40 billion extractives loss estimate is a reminder that every percentage gain in compliance is a fillip to fiscal revenues.

A further area requiring action is the operationalization of the Common African Position on Asset Recovery (CAPAR), adopted in 2020, so stolen assets actually return and serve citizens. The initiative lays out four practical pillars: identify assets, recover and return them, manage them transparently, and strengthen cooperation. Countries that have not passed CAPAR-aligned laws are expected to enact legislation that permit non-conviction-based forfeiture in appropriate cases, mandate beneficial-use agreements for returned assets, and protect whistleblowers. The AU Advisory Board against Corruption can help by publishing country scorecards on CAPAR implementation and spotlighting model repatriation agreements that institutionalize transparency and community oversight.

Intra-continental information exchange and destination-country accountability constitute another intervention point. Illicit flows are not purely a supply-side problem. Africa needs predictable pipelines for beneficial ownership, banking and tax information exchange, and it needs destination jurisdictions—from European financial centers to Middle East gold hubs—to meet it halfway. The 2025 report’s call for stronger continental partnerships should translate into regional BO portals, automatic exchange of customs and trade data, and AU-level diplomacy that presses partners to open registers, end anonymous corporate vehicles, and expedite asset-return timelines. Where cooperation lags, the AU should consider reciprocity tools, including procurement exclusions to public listings of uncooperative jurisdictions.

These fixes will not matter without political stamina. The report’s warning that Africa is “losing the fight” against illicit funds underscores the urgency: institutional forms exist; outcomes lag. That is not a reason to retreat; it is a reason to redesign incentives. A decade after the Mbeki Panel jolted the continent awake, the task is not to invent new agendas but to finish the one Africa already has on its plate—build clean, searchable ownership data; police the extractives chokepoints; turn CAPAR from principle into practice; and insist that destination countries shoulder their half of the bargain. Africa does not lack for blueprints. It needs leaders who display a genuine concern for the welfare of their citizens and battle the IFF scourge that is bleeding the continent dry.