The statement in question reads: “Recognizing Egypt’s heavy reliance on the Nile River in a context of its water scarcity, the EU reiterates its support to Egypt’s water security and the compliance with international law, including concerning the Ethiopian Dam.” It goes on to encourage cooperation based on “prior notification, cooperation and ‘do no harm’.”

This language, rather than being a simple plea for regional harmony, strongly echoes Egypt’s established position. It is a statement that is noteworthy for what it says, but perhaps even more so for what it omits.

A Deliberately One-Sided “Recognition”

The statement opens by “Recognizing Egypt’s heavy reliance on the Nile.” This is an undisputed fact. But it is a carefully selected fact.

The statement does not, for example, also “recognize” Ethiopia’s reliance on the very same river, which originates on its territory, to provide basic electricity to over 60 million of its citizens. There is no “recognition” of Ethiopia’s sovereign right to development, or that the Grand Ethiopian Renaissance Dam (GERD) is a hydropower project designed to generate electricity, not to consume or divert water.

By framing the issue exclusively through the lens of Egyptian “scarcity,” the EU adopts a narrative that casts the Nile as a zero-sum game. It overlooks the reality that for Ethiopia, the dam represents a critical engine for development and poverty alleviation. This approach does not reflect full impartiality, as it appears to privilege one nation’s “historical” use over another nation’s future development needs.

A Selective Interpretation of “International Law”

The statement’s most problematic element is its selective invocation of “international law.” By linking “support to Egypt’s water security” with “compliance with international law, including concerning the Ethiopian Dam,” the EU implies that Ethiopia and its dam may not be in compliance.

This reflects a deeply contentious Egyptian talking point. The “law” Egypt frequently cites is the 1959 agreement, a treaty between Egypt and Sudan that allocated the Nile’s water between themselves, granting no water to Ethiopia (the source of 86% of the water) or other upstream riparian states. This agreement is not universally accepted as “international law”; it is a document that Ethiopia and other upstream nations have consistently rejected.

The cornerstone of modern international water law, as codified in the UN Watercourses Convention, is not the “do no harm” principle in isolation. The primary, guiding principle is “equitable and reasonable utilization.” This principle exists to balance the needs of all riparian states, ensuring that downstream countries are protected from significant harm while simultaneously guaranteeing that upstream countries can develop their own resources.

The EU’s statement conspicuously omits any mention of “equitable and reasonable utilization.” Instead, it cherry-picks the “do no harm” principle, which Egypt has long used to argue against upstream development. This is not a balanced endorsement of international law; it is a notable distortion of it.

Undermining African-Led Solutions

For years, the primary forum for this dispute has been the tripartite negotiations between Egypt, Ethiopia, and Sudan, mediated by the African Union (AU). The EU has, until now, been an observer to this process.

With this statement, the EU has unfortunately compromised its credibility as a mediator and weakened the AU-led process. It becomes more difficult for Egypt to negotiate or compromise in good faith within the African-led framework when it has just received a bilateral endorsement of its position from a global partner like the EU.

This move risks disincentivizing Cairo from making concessions, pushing a fragile regional diplomatic process, the only one that has shown a path forward, closer to a stalemate.

An Unscrupulous Quid Pro Quo

One must ask why the EU would make such a one-sided declaration. The answer may lie in the rest of the “strategic partnership” agreement. The EU is providing billions of euros to Egypt in a package widely understood to be linked to Cairo’s cooperation on stemming migration to Europe.

If this is the case, the EU may be engaging in short-sighted foreign policy. It appears to have traded its neutrality on the Nile, an issue of existential importance for the future development and stability of half a billion people across 11 African nations, for domestic political gains on migration.

A Path Beyond Colonial Water Law

This statement represents a significant diplomatic misstep. It aligns the EU with a one-sided interpretation of water rights rooted in colonial-era agreements and overlooks the legitimate development aspirations of Ethiopia and other upstream states. If the EU is serious about stability in the Horn of Africa, it should reconsider this partisan language. Instead of appearing to give effect to outdated colonial treaties, the EU should encourage its new strategic partner, Egypt, to engage constructively with its neighbours by signing and ratifying the Nile Basin Cooperative Framework Agreement (CFA), a viable and modern legal instrument for governing the river. The EU should reaffirm its commitment to all principles of international water law, starting with “equitable and reasonable utilization”, and lend its full, impartial support to the African Union-led process. True partnership is built on bridging divides, not widening them.

Yonas Tesfa Sisay (PhD) is an attorney-at-law and legal consultant

Contributed by Yonas Tesfa Sisay (PhD)

WTO membership requires compliance with global standards that can encourage the inflow of new technologies. This will facilitate knowledge transfer into key sectors such as agriculture, pharmaceuticals, renewable energy, and ICT. International research agencies and donors often prioritize WTO members for joint initiatives and capacity-building projects, thereby opening doors to more external funding. Membership would also enhance Ethiopia’s ability to participate in multi-country research consortia, improving visibility and scientific impact.

For higher education, WTO membership would stimulate academic mobility, partnerships with leading universities, and the harmonization of academic standards with global best practices. It would encourage the growth of research-intensive industries and foster stronger university–industry linkages, creating fertile ground for innovation and entrepreneurship. In addition, Ethiopian scholars and students would gain broader access to international academic networks, joint degree programs, and collaborative research initiatives that could raise the quality and relevance of local institutions.

From a development perspective, WTO membership signals policy predictability and international credibility, making Ethiopia a more attractive destination for investors. This, in turn, creates opportunities for research commercialization and innovation hubs. By adopting WTO-consistent frameworks such as TRIPS (Trade-Related Aspects of Intellectual Property Rights), Ethiopia can protect indigenous knowledge and biodiversity while also fostering innovation-driven industries. Membership would encourage growth in biotechnology, pharmaceuticals, renewable energy, and the digital economy—areas where higher education and research institutions can play a direct role in shaping policies and training skilled human capital.

WTO integration will also help Ethiopia align with the African Union’s Agenda 2063 and the UN Sustainable Development Goals by strengthening innovation ecosystems, expanding industrial capacity, and promoting inclusive development.

Although the advantages are significant, it will be crucial to guarantee that liberalization does not weaken local industries, particularly agriculture and small businesses. Policies should mitigate brain drain and guarantee that the advantages of global research cooperation benefit all universities, including developing regional institutions. Intellectual property systems should also safeguard Ethiopia’s native medicinal practices, biodiversity, and cultural heritage against exploitation.

Ethiopia’s accession to the WTO offers more than trade liberalization. It can serve as a catalyst for knowledge-driven development. By enabling access to global research networks, strengthening higher education institutions, and fostering innovation-intensive industries, WTO membership can position Ethiopia as a competitive and knowledge-based economy. The challenge will be to establish policies that maximize these opportunities while protecting national interests and ensuring fair access to the advantages of globalization. I am hopping that the government is already working to address this challenge.

 Taye Beyene Demissie is a professor at the University of Botswana.

Contributed by Taye Beyene Demissie (Prof.)

We have rivers that swell, lakes which recede, and aquifers that run deep. But too often, this water is either wasted, polluted or simply inaccessible, due to physical scarcity, and institutional and human capacity challenges. In this age of uncertainty and climate extremes, it is tragic for Africa to lack data, tools and partnerships to manage water better.

Yet I believe the tide is turning. Across Africa, technology is beginning to rewrite our water story. Satellites track rainfall in real time. Smart sensors monitor groundwater. Mobile apps tell farmers when and how to irrigate. These innovations are helping us make smarter, faster decisions and even saving lives.

Unfortunately, technology alone won’t solve Africa’s water crisis. The real breakthrough lies in digital partnerships – forging collaboration between governments, innovators, researchers and communities who share not just data, but a common purpose.

In my three decades working at the intersection of water and development, I have observed pilot projects rise with great promise, only to fade once funding runs out or technology becomes obsolete. Government databases stay locked in silos, private firms build brilliant apps that never reach scale, and non-state actors launch digital tools that don’t survive the project cycle, leaving a patchwork of innovation that rarely transforms entire systems.

Partnerships are the missing link. They connect public leadership with private ingenuity and local expertise with research insight. They make data interoperable, trust possible and innovation sustainable, turning digital potential into public good.

The Digital Ethiopia 2025 Strategy is a case in point. Placing data-driven transformation at the heart of national resilience recognizes that digital systems can make water management faster, fairer and more transparent. Real-time monitoring of river flows, groundwater levels and irrigation efficiency is no longer a distant dream but a reality.

An exciting frontier in this space is the rise of digital twins — virtual replicas of water systems that update in real-time. With these, policymakers can test “what if” scenarios before making costly decisions. What if rainfall drops by 20 percent? What if flooding hits low-lying communities? Digital twins allow us to move from reacting to crises toward anticipating them — a shift that saves money, time and lives.

Across Africa, digital partnerships are already transforming how we govern water. Eastern and southern African countries are using remote sensing and cloud-based analytics to calculate how much water is available, used and lost across basins. In Kenya and South Africa, utilities are using smart systems to track water flows and detect leaks, cutting losses and improving service. 

Digital tools can build trust as much as they build efficiency. When a farmer in Ethiopia’s Hawassa plans irrigation based on real-time data, or a policymaker in Turkana in Kenya forecasts drought before it strikes, it is not just modernizing but empowering too, proof that collaboration, backed by technology, can turn uncertainty into opportunity.

Still, we must confront a hard truth: too often, Africa is the testing ground for innovations developed elsewhere. Yet Africa has the youngest, most dynamic population in the world. Our youth are digital natives, brimming with creativity and entrepreneurial energy and talent. With the right skills, access to data and enabling policies, they can build the next generation of water-smart solutions.

So, what will it take?

First, governments must invest in digital public goods such as open data platforms, cloud-based systems and cross-sector networks that link ministries, utilities, researchers and communities. Second, the private sector must evolve from being a supplier to true partners to co-create sustainable business models that make digital services accessible, affordable and scalable. Third, we must invest in people. Digital tools don’t replace human capacity; they amplify it. Training, mentoring and empowering our people, particularly the youth, to interpret and use data at scale will determine whether digital transformation endures or evaporates. Finally, Africa needs to strengthen the enabling environment for an inclusive, home-grown and adaptive growth of digital innovations.

Africa’s water future will be defined not by scarcity, but by cooperation and creativity. Digital water partnerships will determine how we manage our most precious resource in the decades ahead.

Abdulkarim H. Seid is the regional representative for International Water Management Institute for East Africa

Contributed by Abdulkarim H. Seid (PhD)

Among the many traders is Lidya Seleshi, a 29-year-old entrepreneur who manages her family’s decades-old clothing business. Like generations before her, she sells intricately woven Habesha Kemis and shawls to customers who prize craftsmanship and cultural identity.

But these days, Lidya faces a daunting challenge: a flood of cheap, machine-made imitations imported from China. The knockoffs, sold at a fraction of the price, have transformed the market and left local weavers and traders struggling to compete.

“Many people are choosing the Chinese imports to cut costs instead of spending their hard-earned money on quality products that last longer,” Lidya said. “Even business owners who once valued handwoven fabrics are now importing from China in large quantities.”

Many traders share Lidya’s frustration. They say that weak government oversight and a lack of protection for local industries have left them vulnerable in a market increasingly dominated by foreign goods. Some are considering giving up altogether.

Michael Kebede, another shop owner in Shero Meda, said his once-thriving business has been forced to scale back orders. “Customers used to come back regularly,” he said. “Now, once they realize they can get what looks like the same product elsewhere for much less, they feel I have cheated them and never return.”

“With prices this low and no repeat buyers,” Michael added, “selling only traditional handmade fabrics is no longer sustainable. Unless we adapt — even by selling Chinese products ourselves — we can’t survive.”

In this part of Addis Ababa, the difference between genuine handwoven garments and the Chinese imitations is easy to spot. The imported fabrics often bear printed designs rather than woven patterns and tend to fade after a few washes — a stark contrast to the vibrant, enduring sheen of traditional Ethiopian textiles.

At a recent Enkopa Summit, former international model Anna Getaneh, one of Ethiopia’s most recognized fashion figures from the 1990s, reflected on the challenges faced by local designers. “When I began my Ethiopian chapter 10 years ago, there was no real fashion ecosystem,” she said. “I had to start from scratch — even building my own factory.”

Anna noted that many designers today have learned to collaborate rather than compete, forming small support networks to sustain their craft. Yet, the market realities remain harsh.

Henok Tewedaj, who runs a fabric shop in Shero Meda, said consumers are increasingly drawn to cheaper imports. “The Chinese fabrics are just stamped, not woven,” he said. “They fade quickly when washed, while our handwoven clothes can last for years.”

Henok often sees customers who view traditional attire as disposable, something to wear once for a wedding or holiday before discarding it. “It’s disappointing,” he said. “An entire younger generation now treats cultural clothing as ‘use and throw.’ That’s why the Chinese products are flooding the market.”

Even wealthier buyers, he added, have unwittingly contributed to the trend. “Middle-class customers in areas like Bole are buying Chinese fabrics to use as curtains or upholstery,” Henok said. “They’re indirectly fueling the demand for imports instead of supporting Ethiopian craftsmanship.”

In Bole — one of the city’s most upscale neighborhoods — boutique shops sell luxury Habesha Kemis for prices reaching 500,000 birr or more. Yodit Gebreselassie, who bought her traditional wedding dress there for 300,000 birr, said the price was worth it. “It was beautiful, elegant, and perfectly designed,” she said. “It represented moderation and tradition.”

Despite such devotion among local buyers, Ethiopian traditional wear has yet to find significant success abroad. A rare moment of international attention came in 2019, when Million Samuel, Ethiopia’s newly appointed ambassador to the Netherlands, wore a strikingly designed traditional outfit to an event — drawing widespread admiration and inquiries about its designer.

But the ambassador, out of loyalty, declined to name the creator. That didn’t stop others, like Yared Sisay, from trying to replicate the piece locally. “I took the fabric to a designer to recreate it,” he said, “but it didn’t come close.”

Yared believes the industry’s potential is stifled by limited skills and visibility. “Ethiopian designers have the passion,” he said, “but most focus on women’s clothing, where the market is larger. The few talented ones don’t market their work — they design mainly for close friends.”

Amid predictions of Africa’s growth and the potential of its youth, one inconvenient statistic tells a different story. Africa has the highest rate of femicide worldwide [2.9 victims per 100,000 in 2023] – around 22,000 women and girls are killed every year by an intimate partner or family member. 

I spend a lot of time tackling this inexcusable epidemic through the organisations, brands and companies I work with. This week I am at the United Nations General Assembly in New York trying to keep this overlooked issue on the agenda. The single most powerful accelerator for Africa’s progress is not another flashy tech or mining infrastructure project; it is the autonomy of our girls and women. Quite simply, we make it too hard for a girl to become a woman. Until we confront this, we limit our potential. 

According to the Ethiopia Gender-based violence secondary data review report 2024, that explores the effects of the USAID funding freeze and cuts on GBV service provision, out of the 7.2 million people identified as needing Gender Based Violence support, 45 percent were children, and 44 percent were women. Women and adolescent girls are at greatest risk of GBV owing to deeply rooted gender norms and traditional beliefs that relegate them as wives or mothers only, besides limiting their autonomy and decision-making power.

How can we build the continent and workforce of the future while 1 in 3 schoolgirls miss school monthly because of their period?  Across sub-Saharan Africa, 55 percent of girls face the monthly fear of people seeing their menstrual blood. We cannot be squeamish about this; it’s a fact of life. Period. Millions of girls and women are menstruating right now. They need acceptance, education and products to manage it. How can businesses and society claim ‘inclusive growth’ when half our population’s needs are systematically ignored? There is silence around safe sex in most African schoolrooms. Women risk violence for seeking contraception. Safe abortion is a taboo topic. Unplanned pregnancy causes thousands of deaths each year. Yet despite the evidence, governments underfund it, communities stigmatise it, and businesses shy away from it. The result? Preventable pain and suffering; preventable losses in productivity and growth. Where would Africa be without its women? 

Businesses have huge influence across the media and plough millions into marketing their brands to women and families yet remain silent – scared and squeamish – on sexual and reproductive health. To me, it’s bad business. Women grow Africa’s economies as both consumers and entrepreneurs. Their unmet health needs are unmet business opportunities.

The private sector has the creativity and influence to act differently. We see glimpses of this affordable sanitary product innovations designed for low-income communities, confidential access to contraception and counselling through telehealth platforms and the taboo-breaking campaigns from unlikely brands from soap to beer showing that what is good for women is good for business and society.

The lesson is simple: when companies put women’s needs at the heart of their strategy, they don’t just sell more products – they earn trust, loyalty and long-term growth. I make the case for this in my recent global TED Talk and call for a new kind of business leadership. I mean someone using their influence to change cultural norms, to stand up for those they sell to. Normalising periods, contraception, and sexual health through education, product design and campaigns that dismantle barriers and break taboos. Let’s stop whispering about women’s bodies and start designing for them.

This is not philanthropy. It’s smart, strategic and inclusive growth. Because the inconvenient truth is, you cannot build strong markets on the backs of disempowered women. Africa’s girls and women form half of this magnificent continent: half of its potential workforce and its most powerful consumers. Governments, philanthropists, and businesses must join forces for and with women – not because it’s ‘nice to do’, but because it’s the most impactful unlock for an unstoppable Africa.

Until then, every promise about Africa’s future is just empty words.  Will leaders continue to tiptoe around women’s health, or will they step up to drive the change our continent needs?

Myriam Sidibe (Prof.) is the Chief Mission Officer and Founder of Brands on a Mission.

 Contributed by Myriam Sidibe (Prof.)

In that moment, I wasn’t just a customer; I was a captive. My choices were to pay his inflated price or go home without dinner ingredients for my family. This isn’t just about one rude shopkeeper; it is a symptom of a much larger economic disease. And it is precisely why the government’s recent move to open the wholesale and retail sector to foreign competition isn’t just a policy shift – it is a potential lifeline for every Ethiopian struggling with the cost of living.

For decades, Ethiopia’s wholesale and retail sectors have been reserved for local businesses. The intention to nurture domestic enterprise was noble. However, in the absence of real competition, this protection has fostered a culture of complacency and deeply unethical practices. We have all seen the symptoms: sudden, unexplained price hikes on essentials, the mysterious disappearance of items only to reappear at a premium, and a general attitude of exploitation because consumers have no alternative. These are not anecdotes; they are a consistent pattern of market failure.

These practices are a primary driver of the cost-of-living crisis. When a limited number of players can control supply and price without fear of a competitor offering a better deal, the outcome is inevitably inflationary. Monopolies and protected oligopolies serve the interests of the sellers, not the consumers. While local businesses rightly cite challenges like access to finance, these difficulties cannot justify practices that harm the public and distort the entire economy. Decades of protection have done little to spur these businesses toward the efficiency and innovation that define mature economies. A short-term mindset has backfired, limiting their own potential and damaging their reputation.

The government’s decision to open these sectors is not an ideological move but a pragmatic intervention. Introducing foreign competition is the only proven antidote to the disease of market abuse. Imagine if I could have left that indifferent shopkeeper and taken my business to a competitor known for consistent, transparent pricing. That simple act of choice is revolutionary. It forces every player in the market to raise their game, to compete on price, quality, and service. The consumer is no longer a hostage; they become a king whose patronage must be earned.

Critically, this move does far more than just fix our retail sector. It also sends a powerful, unequivocal signal to the entire global investment community. Opening a long-protected sector is a tangible demonstration that Ethiopia is truly committed to economic modernization and market-led principles. For foreign investors, actions speak louder than words. This policy shift is a decisive action that builds immense confidence, proving the government is willing to make difficult, structural reforms to create a more open and predictable business environment. This confidence is the bedrock upon which large-scale, long-term investment is built. When investors see a nation willingly transition from a protected, opaque market to a competitive, transparent one, they perceive lower risk and a greater commitment to the rules of global commerce. This first wave of investment in retail will serve as a proof of concept, encouraging investors in manufacturing, logistics, and technology to follow, creating a virtuous cycle of capital inflow that benefits the entire economy.

The benefits extend far beyond price tags and investor sentiment. Foreign entrants bring sophisticated, technology-driven supply chains that drastically reduce waste, spoilage, and cost. This efficiency breaks the bottlenecks often used to justify hoarding and gouging. They also bring a culture of long-term investment, creating new jobs and providing valuable training that builds human capital within the country. Their presence forces a raising of standards across the entire sector.

However, a potent counterargument persists: that this move equals selling our economic sovereignty, trading local exploitation for foreign domination. This fear, rooted in a post-colonial suspicion, is powerful but, in this context, a misconception. I would argue that the true betrayal of sovereignty is allowing the current, broken system to continue.

Economic sovereignty is not merely about ownership; it is about control and who benefits. Who truly benefits from the status quo? A narrow segment of local business owners. And who bears the cost? The overwhelming majority of the Ethiopian public. By introducing competition, the government is reasserting its sovereignty on behalf of its people, structuring the market to serve the public good, which is the highest expression of national interest.

Furthermore, the idea of foreign “domination” misunderstands modern retail investment. These companies are not colonial enterprises. To succeed, they must embed themselves in the Ethiopian economy. They will source products locally, employ thousands of Ethiopians, pay taxes, and invest in physical infrastructure. This is a partnership governed by Ethiopian laws, not domination.

The goal is not to replace local businesses but to force their evolution. The future should be a blended, dynamic ecosystem. The presence of efficient foreign players creates a high ceiling of standards, showing local entrepreneurs what is possible. Ambitious Ethiopian businesses will learn, adapt, and innovate. This is how local businesses transition from protected infants into robust, competitive adults.

The opening of the sector is an act of confidence. It is a bet on the Ethiopian consumer and on the potential of our entrepreneurship to rise to a challenge. This decision is a reclamation of economic sovereignty for the benefit of the many. It will be disruptive, but the right response is not to retreat behind walls of fear. It is to adapt and to improve. Securing the public’s livelihood and attracting global capital to build our future is the highest form of sovereignty there is.

Befikadu Eba is Founder and Managing Director of Erudite Africa Investments, a former Banker with strong interests in Economics, private sector development and financial inclusion. He is reachable at befikadu.eba@eruditeafrica.com.

Contributed by Befikadu Eba

Beyond its economic and social benefits, coffee has played a crucial role in promoting democracy worldwide. Jürgen Habermas, the German sociologist, highlights the 18th century as the golden age of democracy, largely due to the emergence of coffee houses. During this time, people gathered in these establishments to discuss their lives, share common concerns, and exchange ideas freely. They engaged in reasoned debates, and consensus-driven ideas often influenced governmental decisions. Habermas argues that in these coffee houses, differences in wealth, education, and class were set aside, allowing for a more unified dialogue. However, over time, the rise of media and public relations shifted the discourse from the public sphere to the private realm. Habermas asserts that coffee and coffee houses played a significant role in fostering public decisiveness during this pivotal era.

With this context in mind, let’s turn to the main point. The 2017 fiscal year was marked by both successes and challenges for Ethiopia, particularly in the coffee sector. It can be described as a landmark year for coffee, achieving record exports in both volume and revenue. Ethiopia exported 468,967 tons of coffee, generating over USD 2.653 billion—144 percent of the planned volume and 147 percent of the planned revenue. Key to this success were the government’s reform and transformation efforts within the coffee industry.

The government views globalization as essential for survival, believing it is not merely an option but a necessity. Recognizing that competing and succeeding in the global market is crucial, Ethiopia has actively sought to participate in and benefit from this landscape. Macroeconomic reform has been a central part of these efforts, with coffee being a focal export product in recent years.

In various regional cities, stakeholders have collaboratively identified bottlenecks and proposed solutions. By fostering a sense of ownership among these stakeholders, initiatives have been launched to curb illegal coffee trade.

A coffee productivity and quality improvement package has been developed and disseminated, with training provided to farmers at the district level. The expansion of research institutions dedicated to coffee has also contributed to enhancing productivity and quality. Additionally, promotional efforts for Ethiopian coffee have been instrumental, with participation in exhibitions and expos in China and Dubai aimed at attracting new buyers and securing contracts. As a result, over 20 new coffee destination countries have emerged. Most notably, this year has been recognized as the year of coffee among all export products, thanks to direct links that allow farmers to export their coffee directly.

The coming years could mark a golden era for Ethiopia’s coffee industry. The area dedicated to coffee cultivation is expanding, and productivity is on the rise, with new climate-resilient varieties being introduced. Additionally, our market destinations are increasing.

In contrast, many other coffee-producing countries are facing severe impacts from climate change, which is devastating their coffee production and productivity. Experts predict that by 2050, half of the land currently used for coffee will no longer be suitable for cultivation. An analysis by the World Coffee Portal indicates that, due to global warming, 76% of Brazil’s highly suitable coffee land will become unsuitable by 2050, along with 28% of its moderately suitable land. Since Brazil supplies one-third of the world’s coffee, this poses a significant concern.

The Australian Climate Institute estimates that Vietnam, the second-largest coffee producer globally, will lose 75% of its highly suitable land and 25% of its moderately suitable land for coffee production by 2050.

According to the International Coffee Organization, a disparity between global coffee production and consumption is already emerging. In 2022, there was a supply gap of 6 million 60kg bags, with demand outpacing supply. The United Nations projects that the world population will grow from 7.6 billion to 9.7 billion by 2050, with coffee demand in Africa and Asia expected to double. A report by Conservation International Forecast (2016) warns that to meet the coffee demand in 2050, current production must triple. Population growth will exacerbate the imbalance between coffee supply and demand, especially as the suitability of most coffee-producing lands declines significantly. Consequently, coffee may become a luxury item enjoyed only by the wealthy by 2050.

This raises the question: Is this why Thomas Jefferson, a founding father and former President of the United States, referred to coffee as “the drink of the civilized world”? While you may currently enjoy a cup of coffee for 30 birr, in many U.S. states, the cost exceeds two dollars. Therefore, if Ethiopia wants to capitalize on this opportunity, it must strategically plan and begin cultivating coffee in highland areas now. Continuing the current growth trajectory will necessitate investments in technology, particularly artificial intelligence, from production to marketing. It is advisable to brand Ethiopian coffee by promoting its health benefits, especially among young people in rapidly developing countries, including those in Africa. In conclusion, the future belongs to Ethiopian coffee.

Contributed by Sintayehu Girma Aytaged

Back at the expansive cafeteria built to accommodate the workforce, I asked the Engineer a simple, innocent question about what I had observed. He paused for nearly a minute, and we sat in silence. Then he launched into a detailed, 40-minute explanation of the hows and whys – only to continue even further when I tried to assure him it was just curiosity, not criticism. That moment left me with more questions than answers.

This was nearly a decade ago. Back then, Abay (the Blue Nile) was being harnessed by engineering, carving its path through ancient landscapes, whispering tales of life, strife, and hope. At its edge now stands Ethiopia’s boldest testament to ambition yet: the GERD.

Why the Dam Matters?

The GERD is far more than a hydroelectric project. It is a symbol of national resilience, a source of pride as Ethiopia charts a path from scarcity to light, both literal and metaphorical. At the same time, it has become a focal point of intense hydro-political contention across the Nile Basin, drawing global attention and even becoming part of international peace and security debates. From its inception in 2011, GERD was never intended as a threat, but as a promise. Ethiopian officials, experts, and public diplomats have consistently emphasized this vision. And yet, the project took more than double the initial completion timeline. It was born amid the Arab Spring and faced internal political challenges at home, marked notably by the mysterious death of Engineer Simegnew and significant cost overruns. Though seen domestically as a monument of unity, hope, and renaissance, it was not free from internal debates, and accusations.

Despite delays, the GERD began generating electricity in 2022. For Ethiopia, where over 65 million people still lack access to electricity, the project is a lifeline. It promises not only to address this acute shortage but also to empower Ethiopia’s regional ambitions through energy exports to neighboring and Nile Basin countries. Once all turbines are operational, Ethiopia expects to increase its electricity generation capacity to 9,000 megawatts (MW), up from the current 7,910 MW. The stakes are high and the message is clear. From dimly lit classrooms to candlelit homes, the voices echoing through the valleys reaffirm why the dam matters.

Today, as the GERD stands complete and operational poised to become Africa’s largest dam with a capacity of over 5,000 MW, it effectively doubles Ethiopia’s electricity supply and positions the country as a regional energy leader. Yet, this achievement has not come without friction. Years of negotiations have failed to yield a lasting agreement ensuring Ethiopia’s upstream rights while addressing the concerns of downstream countries of Egypt and Sudan. For Egypt, the Nile is an umbilical cord of survival. For Ethiopia, the GERD represents more than kilowatts on a grid. It is a lifeline to development, a catalyst for industry, and a redefinition of regional identity. While Ethiopia now faces the enormous task of expanding transmission and distribution infrastructure, the GERD remains a beacon of shared hope if it is shepherded with trust, transparency, and goodwill. But for that hope to endure, one element is non-negotiable. That is trust!

Charting the Future: Building Trust Drop by Drop

The Nile continues to flow through contested terrain. Egypt, deeply reliant on the Nile waters, has voiced strong opposition against the dam. Its officials have now and then labeled Ethiopia’s actions “unlawful,” accusing it of violating international law through unilateral moves. Prime Minister Mostafa Madbouly urged Ethiopia to reach an agreement that guarantees no harm to Egypt, emphasizing that development is welcome but not at the cost of Egypt’s “water rights”. Yet, this notion of “water right” remains debatable as it in a way denies the water right of upstream nations.

A flicker of cooperation emerged in 2015 with the signing of the Declaration of Principles (DoP) on the GERD. This historic agreement laid out ten key principles: equitable use, regional integration, sustainability, dam safety, data sharing, and the commitment to avoid harm to others. Former Ethiopian Prime Minister Hailemariam Desalegn echoed his optimism, declaring the GERD a shared opportunity not a threat and affirming Ethiopia’s commitment to mutual benefit and non-harm. He resisted third-party arbitration, instead championing dialogue among the three countries. Similarly, Egyptian President Abdel Fatah al-Sisi hailed the agreement as a “new era of love and trust,” while Sudan’s then-President Oumar Hassan Bashir called it “an unprecedented historic achievement.”

Hailemariam promoted GERD not only as a hydroelectric generator but also as a model for sustainable and equitable resource use, especially amid rising climate challenges. His predecessor, the late Prime Minister Meles Zenawi, who laid the foundation stone for the dam, framed the project as a regional initiative benefiting all, particularly Egypt and Sudan, calling on all Nile Basin countries to “turn over a new page of cooperation and solidarity.” Meles highlighted the dam’s potential to reduce silt, stabilize water flow, and improve downstream management technical benefits that could serve shared interests. And yet, the road to lasting Nile cooperation remains not as rosy as it seems.

As encouraging as the DoP was, its full and fair implementation required a robust institutional backbone. Now a basin-wide blueprint is in action – the Cooperative Framework Agreement (CFA), a mechanism born from the decades-old Nile Basin Initiative (NBI). The agreement, which Ethiopia and several upstream nations formalized, aimed to promote “equitable” use of the Nile waters without the veto privileges of Egypt and Sudan. As of late 2024, the CFA formally entered into force, establishing the Nile River Basin Commission (NRBC) to steer shared governance. Reaffirming his predecessors’ stance on the GERD, Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed also called on Egypt and Sudan to join the “Nile Family.” He cast a vision of unity through shared progress, shared energy, and shared water.

What lies ahead is clear in its duality: a choice between contention or cooperation. Will Egypt and Sudan step forward to join the cooperation and open up for a progressive agreement, honoring both water security and shared development? Will Ethiopia and the other upstream countries continue to translate their infrastructural achievements into genuine diplomatic outreach?

Egypt’s hypersensitivity over the Nile waters is understandable, given its reliance almost entirely on the Nile for its freshwater needs. However, Cairo also deserves appreciation for its latest attempts towards exploiting other sources of freshwater, including seawater desalination that targets producing 10 million cubic meters of desalinated water per day within the next five to six years.

Hence, the articulation shall continue in promoting a path forward grounded in regional partnership. The call should be for cooperation over confrontation and trust over suspicion, laying the groundwork for a shared future where the Nile becomes a bridge among nations, not a barrier. If the basin nations can embrace that ethos, the Nile’s waters may nourish, not conflict, but a shared, flourishing tomorrow.

Kiram Tadesse is researcher on the GERD and Transboundary Water Resource Management.

Contributed by Kiram Tadesse

The Forum, with this year’s theme “Africa’s Youth is Leading Collaboration, Innovation and Implementation of Agri-Food Systems Transformation,” reflects a growing consensus that young Africans must drive the continent’s agricultural future. But is this vision a realistic path forward, or a hopeful ideal in the face of systemic challenges?

A Crisis Too Big to Ignore

The numbers are stark. The SOFI report underscores that global hunger is rising, with Africa bearing a disproportionate burden. Climate change disrupts harvests, conflicts displace farmers, and economic volatility limits access to resources. The forum’s focus on youth leadership acknowledges a demographic reality: with over 60 percent of Africa’s population under 25, young people are not just stakeholders but the engine of progress.

Yet, the scale of the challenge raises questions. Can youth-led initiatives, even with innovative ideas, overcome entrenched barriers like limited access to finance, land, and markets? Programs like Heifer International’s AYuTe NextGen offer evidence of potential. Since 2021, AYuTe has invested USD 11 million in nearly 100 agri-tech startups, created 23,000 jobs, and supported 3.5 million smallholder farmers. These efforts point to the power of targeted investment, but they also highlight the gap between current impact and the continent’s vast needs.

From Aid to Ecosystems

Traditional aid models, often criticized for fostering dependency, are giving way to approaches that prioritize local ownership. Organizations are increasingly acting as facilitators, connecting young innovators with capital and markets. For example, the partnership between Heifer International and Hello Tractor uses technology to provide smallholder farmers with affordable mechanization, boosting productivity and incomes. Aceli Africa’s recent report highlights how such models, paired with blended finance, can scale sustainably.

But scaling remains a hurdle. While initiatives like these show promise, their reach is limited compared to the millions of farmers in need. Structural issues such as inadequate infrastructure, restrictive land policies, and gender disparities demand broader policy reforms, which youth-led programs alone may struggle to influence.

Voices from the Ground

At the community level, the impact of localized efforts is undeniable. In Senegal, where rural women often lack access to formal banking, community-based savings and loans groups have bridged the gap. Aissatou Deh, treasurer of the JAM Group, shared a powerful testament: “Before, each of us struggled alone. Now, with training and savings, every woman runs a business, earns income, and leads. We’re shaping our future and passing it on.”

Such stories underscore the potential of grassroots solutions to empower marginalized groups, particularly women, who are critical to food security.

Still, these successes are pockets of progress in a fragmented landscape. Systemic barriers, like exclusion from financial systems, require more than community-driven fixes, they demand institutional change.

A Blueprint for Change

The AFSF 2025 agenda emphasizes three priorities: equipping young innovators with agtech and climate-smart tools, fostering community-driven value chains, and expanding access to finance. Side events will showcase youth-led innovations, deal rooms will attract investors, and farmer voices will highlight local successes. These efforts aim to move beyond traditional aid toward sustainable ecosystems.

Yet, scepticism is warranted. Can youth-led innovation scale fast enough to outpace the growing hunger crisis? The forum’s focus on collaboration and investment is promising, but without coordinated government action and private-sector commitment, even the most brilliant ideas risk stalling. Historical aid models, while flawed, often filled immediate gaps; can ecosystem facilitation deliver results at the same speed?

Listening to lead with decades of experience, organizations like Heifer International argue that lasting change requires listening to communities and empowering local leaders.

Adesuwa Ifedi, Heifer’s Senior Vice President of Africa Programs, emphasizes “bold, collaborative action” that evolves beyond donor-driven models. This philosophy aligns with the forum’s youth-centric vision, positioning young Africans as the present, not just the future.

The question remains: will the systems around them evolve quickly enough to support their potential? The AFSF 2025 is a critical moment to confront this challenge, offering a platform to amplify youth voices and attract the resources needed to turn vision into reality.

Africa’s food future hangs in the balance, and its youth may hold the key – but only if the world listens.

Chinedu Ozordi has an extensive background in journalism and has led newsrooms  across West Africa. He is currently a senior consultant at Lantern Comitas, a UK-based communication agency.

 Contributed by Chinedu Ozordi

The walls carried the weight of heritage: hand-carved wooden chairs, painted scripts of the Ge’ez alphabet, traditional curtains, and woven artworks arranged with care. Soft strains of Ethiopian classical music floated through the room. The ambiance alone was enough to remind me that culture is not a thing of the past but something we inhabit—if we choose to.

At the center of the room stood the mesob, the woven basket-table that has anchored Ethiopian dining for centuries. Made from dyed and natural grass, the mesob is not just furniture but philosophy. It insists on sharing. It collapses distance between people. Meals are never served in solitary plates but on a single platter of injera—a canvas for sauces, vegetables, and meats, an invitation to eat together.

When I asked if I might be served a plate for myself, the chef smiled warmly but shook her head. “Here, all food is shared,” she said, pointing me to the mesob. I left without eating but with something harder to digest: the realization that our dining tradition embodies the very closeness we seem to be losing as a nation.

Ethiopian cuisine is more than delicious food—it is a cultural compass. Injera sets us apart, as does our coffee ceremony, which transforms even the smallest corner café into a ritual of intimacy, conversation, and connection. These outward practices, inherited from our ancestors, shape inward habits. They are designed to pull us closer, to remind us that life is best lived in common.

And yet, outside the walls of these cultural spaces, we seem to have abandoned the spirit they preserve.

Consider one unsettling story told to me by a young tour operator who organizes pilgrimages abroad. Once, she could assign hotel rooms randomly to Ethiopian travelers. Now, she and her colleagues quietly match people by ethnicity—using birthplace on passports as a proxy—to prevent disputes. Left unchecked, grievances rooted in suspicion and division surface even among pilgrims en route to holy sites.

This is no small thing. It reflects a deeper unraveling. Ethiopia today ranks fifth in the world for civilian casualties from conflict, behind only Ukraine, Palestine, Myanmar, and Sudan, according to World Population Review. The Early Warning Project has consistently placed Ethiopia among the countries at highest risk for mass atrocities. For all our rituals of closeness, we remain dangerously fractured.

We cannot afford to shrug at these contradictions. Too many of us fall silent in the face of division. Too many of us consume the poisons of hate speech, passively complicit by failing to question, to resist, to reason.

But culture shows us another path. The mesob tells us something politics has forgotten: the table forces proximity. It compels us to reach across, to share, to recognize one another’s presence. Our ancestors knew this truth. They built a dining system that insisted on harmony, and they preserved it for us.

As Ethiopia’s new year approaches, the rains will circle back, as they always do. But peace and reconciliation will not. They require more than wishes; they require deliberate choices. Every day, as citizens and leaders, we decide whether to nourish our collective dignity—or starve it.

Marcus Garvey once wrote: “A people without knowledge of their past history, origin and culture is like a tree without roots.” Ethiopia still has roots, deep and strong. But unless we summon the courage to strip away vanity and fear, unless we restore the solidarity our traditions still model for us, we risk becoming unmoored.

If the mesob could speak, it would tell us: eat together—or fall apart.

Contributed by Selamawit Kidane