by: Zelalem Messele
An English man went to Addis Ababa for work. On the second day he was driving
around for sight seeing in his rented car. While waiting at the traffic light
and with his blinkers turned on, he saw a guy trying to light a cigarette from
his signal light. Amused by the primitivism, he drove off to his destination
After parking the car he tried to reach for his camera in the back seat, only
to realize that it was gone.
Have you ever been called a fara?
And who sets the standards for yarada lij? I'm not going to define
or lecture you about the Arada ethics or write about one of those
articles with a title "How to act like yarada lij."
I 'm just going to tell you the things some of us have done in the past in the
name of Arada.
When we were young, I remember a friend telling me about a birthday party where
the cameraman didn't show up. Chronicling his daughter's birthday was very important
to the father, so he asked the whole crew to move the party with the cake to
the local Girma Photo bEt . Some of you might be thinking, yemannachew
gegema. But some of you might appreciate his insightfulness.
Modernity can be interconnected with knowledge. The person who doesn't know
how to use a recently upgraded gadget can be called fara, gegema, Tfram…shall
I go on? Knowledge can be used cruelly to benefit a few - like someone I know
has done in the.
During the Meserete Tmhrt zemecha, Daniel was assigned to Gonder
after completing 12th grade to teach reading and writing to the locals. In return,
the local geberE mahiber was required to provide these zemachoch
with food, shelter and a serateNa. In this village Daniel was the only zemach
with a beautiful serateNa. As most of you guys know, our mothers
were very selective when hiring a pretty sereteNa. Sometimes the
delala might have been told "yegoremsa bEt new biyE
However, in this geberE mahiber, the locals didn't see it that
way. One day, after a hard day's work, the sereteNa (let's call
her Alganesh) bought Daniel Tella. To her own downfall, the same night Daniel
started to mashkormem her.
Have you ever tried to analyze the connection between alcohol and hormones?
It's a mystery to me. After a few drinks, even if you don't have mewdeqia, you
end up in a zigubiN abesha bEt trying to salvage an unfruitful
evening. In the old days, we used to say "idmE le Kasanchis, Kebede
Tomun adro ayawqm," with the occasional regret and blaming of friends
who left you in the hands of the Kasanchis sharks. You might have found yourself
knocking on your friend's door at 5 a.m. as if you were be dubE indaderE
sew. "Why did you leave me with a shellE knowing
that I was drunk?"
Where was I? Back to the zemecha Tabiya. After a while it became
a given that whenever he felt like it, he was getting it. I mean everything!
I'm talking about Daniel.
Every forth night, all the zemachoch would get together in one
wereda to spend the weekend together. This time it was Daniel's
wereda turn. Alganesh prepared enough food for all the guests.
When everyone arrived, she brought injera in a big sefEe and started
running back to the kushina. Her ruCHa would have left Carl Lewis
ten meters trailing behind. She came back with a dst of aleCHa weT,
and once again she hurried back with the same speed back into the guada,
even faster than previously.
After a while, being amused with the kushina eruCHa, I asked
Daniel what is wrong with Alganesh. He said, with a smirk on his face, that
she was not feeling well. After noticing how uncomfortable he was about answering
my questions, I let the matter drop. However, late into the night (and after
a few swigs of gebs Tella) my curiosity got the better of me.
He finally confessed to sleeping with her. This didn't explain ye Alganeshin
eruCHa. Was she…? Hey, no, no, she wasn't pregnant. Far from
it. The fact of the matter was that that morning she had asked Daniel for a
birth control. Daniel had given her ye Ingliz CHew.
All I can say is, she wasn't running to the kushina.