In northern Ethiopia, particularly across the Tigray and Amhara regions, Ashenda and Shadey—also known as Ashendye or Solel—remain cherished celebrations of girlhood, faith, and cultural identity. Each year, between August 22 and September 1, young girls fashion skirts from tall grass, dress in traditional Habesha garments, and take to the streets in song, dance, and prayer.
The festivals coincide with the end of the 16-day Filseta fast and the Dormition of the Virgin Mary, a tradition adopted by the Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo Church after the fourth century. Rooted in Marian devotion and communal continuity, the rituals carry layers of meaning that reach beyond festivity: they are affirmations of heritage and belonging.
But this year, joy is tempered with fear.
Wubi, a 21-year-old from Mekele who asked to use an assumed name, has prepared her traditional garment and jewelry for the occasion. Yet her anticipation is clouded by recent reports of abductions and killings of young women in Tigray, incidents she says were unheard of in the community before.
“This is a new experience for most of us,” she told The Reporter. “It is strange to witness such unjust practices coming from some of the most religious people of Tigray.”
Despite her unease, she still places her faith in local security forces and clings to hope that Ashenda will unfold with the same joy it has for generations. “I am sure we will have a great time celebrating our ancestral day of joy. Ashenda defines Tigrayan identity, and we are proud of it—just like the years before,” she said.
In the neighboring Amhara region, Asegede, from Sekota in the Wag Hemra Zone, echoed similar anxieties. For her, Shadey is nearly indistinguishable from Ashenda, save for the particular style of dress unique to her community. Like Wubi, she longs to celebrate, but conflict has made the future unpredictable.
“The day is the most respected and celebrated for the girls in our community. Even the boys join—it’s for everyone,” she said. “But you can’t be too sure these days; things might change at any moment. Still, I am ready to enjoy it as much as I can. This day only comes once a year.”
Across northern Ethiopia, Ashenda and Shadey remain a cultural pride. Yet this year’s celebrations unfold under the shadow of insecurity, as communities navigate the fragile calm of a post-war reality.
Despite the peace agreement signed in November 2022, law and order in Tigray remain fragile. Local and international observers report rising criminality and inter-communal violence, often linked to the absence of formal law enforcement and the widespread availability of weapons. The result has been a troubling increase in attacks on civilians.
In neighboring Amhara, the picture is no less grim. Intensified hostilities have led to civilian casualties, displacement, and restricted movement, leaving livelihoods disrupted. Recent assessments from both regions also point to continued sexual violence—including rape and abductions—affecting hundreds and inflicting long-term physical and psychological scars.
Faced with these realities, authorities in Mekelle say they are determined to ensure that the weeklong celebration that began this week, proceeds safely. The Mekelle Peace and Security Bureau has expanded surveillance across the city and announced similar measures in other major towns.
“We are fully prepared to guarantee the safety of both residents and visitors,” bureau head Redahagn Fiseha told The Reporter. He said strategic plans have been distributed to security forces and to the region’s culture and tourism bureau. “Everyone knows their responsibilities, as the day is important to the Tigray people. Visitors are coming into the region to celebrate Ashenda 2025. We are working hard to make the day memorable for all. We are confident and ready for a peaceful celebration.”
According to Redahagn, precautionary actions were taken weeks ahead of the festival. He confirmed that “suspected individuals as well as vehicles” had been detained on suspicion of posing a threat. “The recent criminal acts that took place in the capital as well as in other parts of the region created fear. However, due to joint measures by all stakeholders, everything is under control. No imminent danger has been found to disrupt the celebration.”
Still, the security assurances have not erased public unease. As celebrations unfold across Mekelle, Axum, Adigrat, and Shire, this year’s Ashenda is marked by a striking new element: the participation of internally displaced persons (IDPs).
At Sebacare, one of Mekelle’s largest IDP camps, a grassroots initiative has given displaced girls the chance to join the festivities. The effort was launched by Birkti Haile, a community organizer, in collaboration with two IDPs. Supported by the regional culture and tourism bureau, private sponsors, and other administrative offices, the project provided more than 100 young girls with traditional attire. A music competition has also been staged, dividing participants into five groups.
“As everyone knows, Ashenda is a celebration where young girls gather to speak freely and without control,” Birkti said. “We wanted to create that same space for them—to showcase the situation of IDPs to visitors, both Ethiopian and foreign, and to support them financially and in other ways. It is about giving them a voice and helping the world understand their condition.”
As preparations unfold in Tigray, organizers in Mekelle have also added a poignant layer to this year’s Ashenda. Alongside music and parades, a photo exhibition is being prepared to document the difficult living conditions of internally displaced persons, both those still in the region and others who have fled to camps in Sudan.
In Amhara, too, the day carries deep weight with authorities in the region also emphasizing safety. From Gondar to Wollo, Lalibela to Sekota, celebrations are planned despite the uncertainty.
Belay Mengeste, deputy head of Amhara’s culture and tourism bureau, says his office is working to ensure both safety and continuity. “We plan to bring economic benefits to the region by opening our doors to visitors and creating awareness,” he said. “Our preparations are already underway, selecting areas to host the festival. This year’s celebration, like those before it, will be marked by discipline, togetherness, and tradition.”
Beyond the conflict zones, the festival has also taken root in the capital. In Addis Ababa, colorful decorations brighten streets ahead of the day. For 24-year-old Terehas Kahessay, originally from Shire but now living in the city, Ashenda offers a rare reprieve from the relentless pace of urban life.
“This will be my third year celebrating in Addis,” she said. “My friends and I are planning a joyful day. Life here is too difficult, and you need to work hard. Since we know we go straight back to work the next day, we will use this day as a moment of freedom.”
For Terehas, Ashenda is more than tradition—it is a makeshift sanctuary, a day when young women can breathe and claim joy in a city that often feels unforgiving.
With roots grounded in narratives of female strength and resilience, Ashenda and Shadey stand as more than cultural spectacles. They are expressions of identity, faith, and continuity in the face of hardship. For young women like Wubi and Asegede, the celebrations arrive shadowed by insecurity and fear. Yet even in moments of deep uncertainty, they hold on to the hope that this day will prevail—restoring a measure of peace, unity, and joy in a time when both feel fragile.
