As my inaugural posting on the African continent, when my family and I first touched down in Addis Ababa in 2021, there was a steep learning curve ahead—one that, truth be told, shows no signs of flattening even now. Before Ethiopia, I’d served as New Zealand’s Ambassador to Kiribati, an atoll nation in the Pacific, home to just 120,000 souls, where the rhythms of life are shaped by the tide and the trade winds. It was against that intimate backdrop that I truly grasped Ethiopia’s vastness and set about forging New Zealand’s presence on this dynamic continent with a sense of purpose underpinned by a recognition of how little I knew or understood.
Stepping into the role as New Zealand’s Ambassador to Ethiopia, the African Union, and our various other accreditations, I have to admit that no amount of pre-posting briefings could have truly braced me for the sheer scale of this remarkable nation. Its breathtaking cultural tapestry, woven with ancient threads, and the sobering political realities that underpin it all—well, they demanded a fresh perspective from the outset.
Those opening weeks were a trial by fire, as they say. Back then, though it feels like another lifetime now, the world was still reeling from the grip of COVID-19, and my whānau (family) and I had to navigate the pandemic’s lingering shadows as we unpacked our lives in a new home. No sooner had we shaken off those quarantines, the conflict in northern Ethiopia escalated sharply, layering fresh complexities onto an already daunting adjustment. Travel restrictions, uncertainty, and the weight of distant headlines made getting ahead of the curve feel like chasing mirages in the Danakil.
Yet, I pen this farewell not to dwell on those testing times, but to honor the profound, indelible imprint that Ethiopia, and our broader African engagements, has left on my family and I. It is a legacy far richer than any hardship could diminish.
Right from the start, we were enveloped in the warmth of Ethiopian hospitality. Friends, colleagues, and communities here opened their arms and their hearts, making us feel not as outsiders, but as kin. Despite being half a world away from New Zealand, we encountered nothing but genuine affection, steadfast friendship, and unwavering support from those who walked alongside us. In a place where ‘selam’ carries the weight of true welcome, it was impossible not to feel truly at home.
Over the course of my tenure, I was fortunate to traverse many of Ethiopia’s diverse landscapes, each journey a revelation. Standing amid the rock-hewn churches of Lalibela left me in awe: their ancient carvings, hewn from living stone by devout hands centuries ago, with whisperings of faith’s enduring power. Wandering the walled streets of Harar, that storied eastern enclave, and sharing stories with its gracious residents reminded me, in the simplest terms, that beneath our differences, we are all together people, bound by the universal pull of curiosity and kindness. While visiting places like Abala, Zalambessa and Dembi Dolo revealed starkly the strength and resilience of communities, their overwhelming desire for peace and to resolve their differences through dialogue.
And then there’s Addis Ababa itself, the beating diplomatic heart of Africa: a vibrant mosaic of cultures, where traditional injera houses sit just a turn away from diplomatic compounds, and the hum of blue taxies mingles with the call to prayer. I relished every moment of life here: the chats over buna, the gatherings that stretched into the night, and the deep bonds forged with folks who’ve become fixtures in both my professional ledger and personal story. These connections, built on mutual respect and shared laughter, are the quiet treasures I’ll carry forward.
Venturing beyond Ethiopia to our accredited nations, stretching from the sunbaked shores of East Africa to the verdant expanses of the West, was equally transformative. Of course, there were the formal duties: nurturing ties between New Zealand and these vibrant nations, from trade talks in Nairobi, attending the Commonwealth Heads of Government meeting in Kigali, to cultural exchanges in Accra. But beneath the diplomacy lay something more elemental: an unspoken thread linking people to people, one that bridges the Pacific’s island chains with Africa’s boundless horizons. It’s a reminder that our worlds, though oceans apart, are woven from the same human cloth.
No reflection on these years would be honest without acknowledging the trials that tested Ethiopia’s spirit. The scars of the Tigray conflict, the insurmountable humanitarian crises that cascaded in its wake, the persistent undercurrents of unrest, and the economic headwinds that have slowed the march toward modernization; these are the stark realities I bore witness to during my time here. They weighed heavy, as they should. Yet, amid the fray, what shone brightest was the unyielding perseverance and resilience of the Ethiopian people. In markets that buzzed despite shortages, in families that rebuilt from rubble, and in leaders who chose dialogue over division, as evidenced by the signing of COHA and the initiation of a national dialogue process, I saw a quiet strength that humbled me anew.
As I draw my tenure to a close and prepare to farewell this extraordinary land, I can’t help but share my earnest hopes for the nation and its people, who so effortlessly embody the defiant spirit of Adwa’s victory. Wherever the winds of fate carry me next, I long to hear only tidings of progress: that conversations have triumphed over conflict, that the silence of peace has drowned out the clamor of arms, and that Ethiopia has rallied as one to stitch its future from the fabric of its past.
I eagerly await my return, not as a wide-eyed newcomer or a fleeting visitor, but as a steadfast mate to the people of Ethiopia, ready to share a coffee and catch up on the triumphs yet to come.
And so, I bid a fond farewell to the country that cradled my family over the years , and to its magnificent souls, who extended to us a love as boundless as the highlands themselves. In the timeless words of New Zealand’s indigenous Māori whakataukī:
“He aha te mea nui o te ao? He tangata, he tangata, he tangata.”
What is the most important thing in the world? It is people, it is people, it is people.
My deepest gratitude to the friends of New Zealand in Ethiopia, across our accreditations of Seychelles, Djibouti, Rwanda, Kenya, Ghana, Uganda and Nigeria, and far beyond: who turned my Posting, and my family’s sojourn, into an unforgettable chapter of the heart.
Ka mihi ki a koutou katoa.
Contributed by Michael Upton (Amb.)
