Life After War in Tigray
At just 22 years old, Hagos Tesfu is weighing a future far from his home in Tigray, the northern Ethiopian region still struggling to recover from war, economic uncertainty, and food insecurity. Two years after the brutal civil war officially ended in 2022, life remains precarious for many.
A young father, Hagos ekes out a living driving a Bajaj, a three-wheeled taxi, but the income barely sustains him—let alone his wife and child. He is part of a growing number of Tigrayans facing dire circumstances, as hunger looms and jobs remain scarce. A sudden halt in foreign aid, following US President Donald Trump’s decision to cut assistance deemed misaligned with his “America First” agenda, has only deepened the crisis.
“I spend half my time in fuel lines, hoping to get petrol that is rarely available,” Hagos told The Reporter. “When I can’t, I have to buy from middlemen at outrageous prices, which eats into what little I earn. Life is unbearable.”
The struggle is visible across Mekelle, Tigray’s capital, where uncertainty has become the norm. The economy, already battered by war, is now spiraling further downward as humanitarian aid—once a lifeline for the region—dries up.
“There was a time when tourists came to see Axum’s historic sites, the Gheralta Mountains, or even just to visit Mekelle,” said Nahom Tesfaledet, a taxi driver. “During the war, humanitarian workers filled the hotels. Now, that time is over. The hotels are empty, and jobs have vanished.”
Throughout the city, young men sit idly on street corners, caught in a cycle of frustration and despair.
One 19-year-old, desperate to escape, found himself ensnared by human traffickers. He sold his Bajaj, borrowed money, and paid 60,000 birr to smugglers who promised him a route to Europe. Instead, he was caught at the Djibouti border and deported back to Ethiopia—returning home deeper in debt and with even fewer options.
Yet, despite the risks, he is already planning another attempt.
“I have no future here,” he said. “I owe too much money, and there’s nothing for me in Tigray.”
He is not alone. Across the region, young people—facing unemployment, hunger, and an uncertain political landscape—are considering the same perilous journey.
A hotel waiter in Mekelle said he does not blame them.
“Leaving is the only option,” he said. “The choice is between a dangerous journey or a slow death here, where hope fades every day.”
For many, the dream is not just to leave Tigray—but to escape Ethiopia altogether.
“I am saving everything I can,” the waiter said. “Anywhere but here would be good enough.”
Few in Tigray have been untouched by the war that ended in 2022. The conflict, which claimed an estimated 600,000 lives and was marked by widespread sexual violence, officially concluded with a peace agreement between the Ethiopian government and Tigrayan leaders. But for many civilians, that peace remains elusive.
Senait Gudafa rarely leaves her home after 8 p.m., fearing the violence that still lingers in the shadows of Mekelle. She speaks of the many women and girls who have been victims of sexual assault—some as young as adolescents—whose suffering has led to protests and condemnation from activists, yet little action from the regional government.
“We’ve normalized rape and sexual violence,” she said. “We have no real support systems, and our quality of life keeps deteriorating.”
At Ayder Hospital, once Tigray’s leading medical facility, the impact of war is stark. Many doctors and nurses, who worked tirelessly throughout the conflict despite shortages of supplies and meager pay, have since left—most heading to the West, aided by the US Embassy in Addis Ababa, which has expedited visa processing for medical professionals seeking asylum.
A hospital administrator described the grim reality.
“Our resources are depleted, we can’t afford to pay staff competitive salaries, and even though the war is over, patients are still suffering,” he said. “Many of our best doctors have gone to the U.S. or Canada. Those who couldn’t get visas have left for Somaliland. They saw too much during the war, and we had nothing to offer to make them stay.”
The administrator himself has had offers to leave, including a chance to work in Rwanda. But for now, he remains in Tigray—out of loyalty to his homeland.
At a gas station in the heart of Mekelle, Brook Temesgen has been waiting in line for more than four hours, hoping to fill his tank so he can work as a taxi driver. He knows many of his colleagues have given up and turned to the black market, where fuel prices are double. But for him, that is not an option.
“I have three children to feed, school fees to pay, and rent due,” he said. “I have no financial support from anyone. I can’t afford black market prices, so I have to wait in the cold.”
If not for his children, Brook admits, he might have taken a different path.
“If I had no one depending on me, I would have tried to reach Yemen, even with all the dangers, just to find a way to Europe,” he said. “Because right now, life here feels like a death sentence.”
Even in peacetime, the struggle for survival in Tigray continues.
