YEMa: A young star with an old soul
Inside a restored theater at the heart of Addis Ababa University’s Yared School of Music — the storied institution founded in 1954 by the celebrated Ethiopian composer Ashenafi Kebede — hundreds gathered on a recent evening to witness a new voice reshaping the capital’s soundscape.
A year ago, few knew her name. Now, the artist known to fans simply as YEMa — born Yemariam Chernet — has become a sensation, selling out intimate shows at premium prices and drawing a crowd eager to claim they saw her ascent up close.
Young, self-possessed, and distinctly soulful, YEMa has captivated an unusually broad audience. Diplomatic staff, students, longtime culture buffs, and middle-class families all came to see the emerging star who appears remarkably aware of her moment.
Over a two-and-a-half-hour performance that felt more like a celebration than a showcase, audiences embraced her warm, commanding vocals — often invoking comparisons to the generation that defined Ethiopian pop. Aster Aweke, sometimes called Ethiopia’s Aretha Franklin, comes up often, as does Gigi, the transcendent 1990s vocalist who forged a global career with producer Bill Laswell, known for his work with U2.
“I want my music to be enjoyed by all kinds of people,” YEMa told Amajambo. “And I want it to help the world see Ethiopia as a place whose music can cross borders.”
Crossing borders is now part of her story. Just weeks earlier, she returned from a three-month tour of France — Paris, Lyon, and more than a dozen other cities — performing for an estimated 350,000 people in both solo and collaborative productions. The experience, she says, affirmed her sense of mission as a cultural ambassador on the rise.
Onstage in Addis Ababa, performing tracks from her debut album, “Yedega Sew,” including fan favorites “Shonbite,” “Lomeye,” and the tender ballad “Birk Birk,” she appeared energized, even relieved, to finally bring these songs home. Dancers representing multiple Ethiopian regions joined her throughout the set, reinforcing the inclusive, pan-Ethiopian identity she is shaping around her art.
For many in the crowd, this performance marked a milestone not only for the artist — but for the loyal supporters who watched her move from small club shows to the brink of stardom.
“This is a homecoming for me,” she said with a wide grin. “I’m so happy to see so many familiar faces.”
Her rise to prominence may seem meteoric, but her path was long in the making. YEMa has been singing since childhood, influenced partly by her father, who once managed the popular Zema Lastas Band.
She laughs when told she resembles her idol Gigi — a comparison she accepts with awe rather than entitlement. Growing up, she listened obsessively to the legendary vocalist, often imitating her phrasing and stage presence. “She is a musical genius,” YEMa says, her admiration unmistakable.
Now, with her own voice asserting itself on Ethiopia’s contemporary scene, she is determined to craft a new sound for a new generation — one that resists the formulaic, digitally manufactured music that dominates mainstream playlists.
“She is by far the most talented, dignified, and wonderful artist I have seen in two decades,” said Eyob Tilahun, dancing alongside his 10-year-old son. “She doesn’t need to expose herself or act outrageous to get attention. She is herself — and the talent speaks.”
YEMa’s sound reflects multiple influences — rooted in Gamo and Bonke traditions, then sculpted by the producer and arranger she calls her lifelong partner, Eyuel Mengistu, who many fans affectionately describe as a Quincy Jones–like figure in Ethiopia’s evolving music industry.
She recalls that after Eyuel introduced her to these textures — rarely heard in mainstream Ethiopian pop — she scrapped an entire already-finished LP.
“It sounded like every other album,” she says. So she started over, embracing what she describes as “a blend of folk and world music” reminiscent of Paul Simon’s celebrated experiments in the 1980s, when African sounds reshaped global pop sensibilities.
Among those drawn to her freshness is Tedros Alemayehu, a soft-spoken man in his late 60s who fondly remembers Motown classics and the golden era of Ethiopian music led by Tilahun Gessesse. “She can extend that legacy,” he said, after joining yet another standing ovation.
YEMa is growing accustomed to such responses. After each show, the applause stretches on, often long after the final note fades.
“This is the ultimate satisfaction,” she said, reflecting on what still feels like the beginning of a much larger journey.
(This article first appeared in Amjambo Africa)
