In a surprising turn of events, Abate left Liberian side LISCR after a short stay. Abate’s departure from the West African club has still not been disclosed, as he only managed to stay for a handful of league games.

Jamus, in an official statement, stated that a new dawn is on the horizon with the arrival of the former Ethiopian Coffee and Fasil Kenema trainer. “This appointment marks the beginning of a new era focused on building a formidable squad and implementing a high-performance philosophy that aligns with our club’s ambitions and the expectations of our loyal fans.”

Abate left Ethiopian side Fasil Kenema after an unsatisfactory season in 2024/25. He is one of the most experienced coaches to come from the Horn of Africa in recent times. He led Ethiopian Coffee to their first-ever Ethiopian Premier League title since 1997 and managed to qualify his country for the 2021 Africa Cup of Nations. Abate, 48, will be the first coach from Ethiopia to work in South Sudan.

(Pan-African Football)

Mechal, Mekele, 70 Enderta, and Ethiopian Insurance booked their places in the quarterfinals of the knockout cup.

Ethiopian Coffee lost 1–0 to Mekele 70 Enderta at Addis Ababa Stadium. The Ethiopian Premier League strugglers were beaten by the Browns with a superb free-kick goal from Fitsum Alemu in the first half.

Mechal defeated Dire Dawa Ketema 5–4 on penalties as they progressed to the last eight. Yodahe Dawit’s goal in the second half was cancelled out by Jafar Mudashir as the army side’s hunt for Ethiopian Cup glory continues.

Ethiopian Higher League side Boditi Ketema stunned top-flight side Bahirdar Ketema 6–5 on penalties after regulation time ended in a one-all draw. The Wolayta side took the lead through veteran player Samson Kolecha, but the Waves of Tana equalised with a strike from Ananya Getachew. Boditi Ketema is the only second-division side to knock out a Premier League team in the round of 16.

(Pan-African Football)

The year was 1988. The Derg regime still held power, and Ethiopia stood at a crossroads. That year, as a Public Relations Officer at the “Ethiopian Works National Control Committee” I wrote my first article about what I then called “the cancer in our system”—the pervasive, normalized practice of using public position for private gain. Little did I know that this would become my life’s work, or that 36 years later, I would be writing not about progress, but about regression; not about healing, but about metastasis.

In the Reporter newspaper alone, I have published approximately one hundred and eighty articles. Among these, about 30 focused specifically on political criticism, with titles that still ring in my ears: “Briber and Bribery,” “Calling a Thief a Thief,” “What Should the EPRDF Do?” and “How to Protect Our National Wealth from the Corrupt?” Each piece was written with the hope that naming the disease might begin the cure. Each was crafted with the belief that exposure leads to reform.

Yet here we stand at the tail end of 2025, and the bitter truth must be spoken: the situation has not improved. In fact, it has evolved, mutated, and spread. The social stigma of corruption—once concentrated in political circles—has now permeated every layer of Ethiopian society. The moral decline I warned about has become our national reality.

The Expanding Stain

What began as political corruption has become societal corruption. The disease has spread from politicians to religious leaders, from government officials to intellectuals, from brokers to journalists, from doctors to teachers. We are witnessing what sociologists call “normalization of deviance”—when unethical behavior becomes so common that it ceases to shock, and instead becomes expected, even accepted.

The broker who demands a percentage simply for connecting citizens to services they’re entitled to receive. The journalist who writes favorable coverage in exchange for access or favors. The doctor who prioritizes patients based on connections rather than need. The teacher who trades grades for gifts. The religious leader who leverages spiritual authority for material gain.

We are all swimming in these polluted waters. As the Amharic proverb says, “አንድ ፍጥረት ከሌላ ፍጥረት ይጠጣል,” loosely translated as “One creature drinks from another.” We have created an ecosystem of mutual exploitation where everyone is both victim and perpetrator, both exploited and exploiting.

Understanding the disease: What exactly is conflict of interest? Beyond Simple Corruption

Many people confuse conflict of interest with corruption. They are related, but distinct. Corruption is the overt act—the bribe taken, the favor granted. Conflict of interest is the condition that makes corruption possible, likely, even inevitable. It is the situation in which a person in a position of trust has competing professional and personal interests.

The formal definition: A conflict of interest arises when an individual or organization is involved in multiple interests, one of which could possibly corrupt the motivation or decision-making of the individual or organization.

But let me simplify it with an Ethiopian context: Conflict of interest occurs when you use your authority or position to serve your personal interest instead of the public interest or the entrusted responsibility.

The Ethiopian Contextualization

In our culture, with our strong emphasis on family and community, conflict of interest takes unique forms that we often fail to recognize as problematic.

Consider the nepotism dilemma: When is hiring a relative an act of family responsibility, and when is it a betrayal of public trust? Consider our gift culture: When does a gift become a bribe? How does our tradition of gift-giving during holidays and celebrations create expectations of reciprocity in professional contexts? Consider community obligation: How do we balance our duty to our specific ethnic, religious, or regional community with our duty to the nation as a whole?

These are not abstract questions. They are daily realities for every Ethiopian in a position of authority or influence.

The many faces of the disease: Sector-by-sector analysis

Politics and Government: Where It Began

My earliest articles focused here, and for good reason. When political leaders model self-serving behavior, it sends a signal that permeates the entire society.

Consider a hypothetical but all-too-real scenario: A regional administration needs to purchase one hundred vehicles for its transportation department. The tender process begins. One company, owned by the cousin of the head of the procurement committee, submits a bid. Their vehicles are of lower quality and higher price than competitors. The committee, under subtle pressure, finds ways to disqualify other bidders on technicalities. The cousin’s company wins.

The consequences cascade: The region receives inferior vehicles that break down frequently. Maintenance costs skyrocket. Public transportation suffers. Citizens lose trust in government. The message spreads: success comes through connections, not competence.

This isn’t just a stolen contract—it’s stolen public trust, stolen development opportunities, and a stolen future.

Journalism and Media: The Watchdogs Who Stopped Watching

I write this as a journalist of nearly four decades, with pain in my heart. Our profession, meant to be society’s conscience, has become compromised.

There are levels to this compromise. The first is the overt bribe: a journalist receives money or gifts to write a favorable story or kill an unfavorable one. This is increasingly rare because it’s too obvious.

More common is the access trade: the journalist who cultivates relationships with powerful figures, writes favorable coverage, and receives exclusive access in return. The journalist becomes a PR agent rather than a truth-teller.

Most subtle—and most damaging—is the career calculus: when journalists shape their reporting based on what will advance their careers, please their editors, or avoid controversy. Truth becomes secondary to careerism.

I have seen colleagues who started with fire in their bellies slowly become “practical.” They learn which truths can be told and which must be whispered. They learn that some officials are “untouchable.” They learn that some stories have consequences not just for their subjects, but for their careers. This slow erosion of principle is perhaps more dangerous than outright corruption, because it happens with the complicity of the journalist’s own rationalizations.

Religious Institutions: Trading Spiritual Capital

Perhaps most heartbreaking has been watching this disease infect our religious institutions. When faith becomes a commodity, something sacred dies.

Consider the religious leader who travels abroad “on interfaith dialogue” but spends more time fundraising for his personal projects than building bridges. Or the local religious figure who convinces followers to donate to a “school” or “clinic” that never materializes, or that benefits his family disproportionately.

The damage here is multidimensional. It corrupts genuine faith. It exploits the most vulnerable—the poor who give from their poverty. It creates cynicism about all religious institutions. It undermines the moral foundation society needs to combat corruption elsewhere.

Healthcare: When Healing Becomes Business

The Hippocratic Oath begins: “First, do no harm.” Yet in our healthcare system, conflicts of interest are causing profound harm.

Consider a surgeon who owns shares in a private diagnostic clinic. When patients come to him, he disproportionately refers them to “his” clinic for tests, even when less expensive options exist. Or consider the pharmaceutical representative who provides “educational grants” to doctors who prescribe their medications most frequently.

The consequences are measured in human suffering. Patients pay more for care. Medical decisions are influenced by profit, not patient need. Public trust in healthcare erodes. The brain drain accelerates as ethical doctors flee the compromised system.

Education: Corrupting the Next Generation

If we poison education, we poison the future. Yet conflicts of interest have become endemic in our schools and universities.

A teacher gives better grades to students whose parents provide gifts or favors. A university professor requires students to purchase his privately published textbook at inflated prices. An administrator admits students based on family connections rather than merit.

Each instance teaches the next generation that merit doesn’t matter, that rules are for the powerless, that success comes through manipulation, not effort, that the system is rigged. We are literally teaching our children to be corrupt, then wondering why society becomes more corrupt.

Business and Commerce: The Illusion of “Just Business”

In the private sector, conflicts of interest are often dismissed as “just business” or “smart strategy.” But they distort markets and harm economic development.

Consider the contractor cartel: Business owners in the same industry sit on government tender boards. They rotate winning bids among themselves, keeping prices artificially high and quality artificially low. New, innovative companies cannot compete because the system is rigged.

The economic cost is staggering: higher costs for government projects, poor quality infrastructure, stifled innovation and entrepreneurship, reduced foreign investment as investors avoid corrupt markets.

The social and economic cost: Beyond morality to survival

The Poverty Connection

Some may ask: “Why focus on ethics when we have poverty to fight?” This misunderstands the relationship. Conflict of interest isn’t just an ethical issue—it’s a primary cause of poverty.

Let’s quantify what we lose.

Financially, the World Bank estimates that corruption costs countries up to five percent of GDP. If we take a certain country, with a GDP of approximately one hundred twenty-six billion dollars, that’s over six billion dollars annually—enough to build thousands of schools, hospitals, and roads.

Consider the opportunity cost: When contracts go to connected but incompetent companies, projects fail, funds are wasted, and development stalls. A road that should last twenty years crumbles in five. A school building leaks. A hospital lacks essential equipment.

Consider the brain drain: Our best and brightest leave not just for higher salaries, but for systems where merit matters. Every doctor, engineer, or entrepreneur who leaves represents lost potential for national development.

The Social Fabric Torn

Beyond economics, conflict of interest destroys something equally precious: social cohesion.

Ethiopian culture has traditionally valued community—the concept of living together. But normalized self-interest transforms society from a community into a collection of competitors. The elderly proverb “አንዱ እጅ ሌላውን እጅን ያጥባል” (one hand washes the other) becomes perverted from mutual support to mutual backscratching.

Young people growing up in this system learn that ethics are for losers. They see that the successful are those who game the system. They internalize that public service means private gain. We are creating generations of cynics who will perpetuate and worsen the problem.

The psychology of complicity: Why good people do nothing

The Normalization Trap

One of the most perplexing questions is: Why do essentially good people participate in or tolerate this system?

The answer lies in psychological adaptation

No one starts by accepting a major bribe. It begins with small “gifts,” then slightly larger favors, until what was once unthinkable becomes normal. “Everyone else is doing it” becomes a powerful rationalization. When corruption is everywhere, not participating can feel like disadvantaging yourself and your family.

In our culture, family obligations are powerful. When relatives expect you to use your position to help them, resisting feels like betrayal of familial duty. With economic pressures mounting, many feel they have no choice. The public servant earning an inadequate salary rationalizes that “supplementing” income through favors is necessary for survival.

The Bystander Effect

Equally important is why observers do nothing.

There is a diffusion of responsibility: “Someone else will address it” or “It’s not my problem specifically.” There is fear of retaliation: Speaking up can cost jobs, opportunities, even safety. There is a feeling of futility: “The system is too big to change” leads to resignation. And there is comfort with the devil known: Even a corrupt system provides predictability, while change brings uncertainty.

International perspectives: What can we learn?

Case Studies in Reform

While Ethiopia’s situation is serious, other nations have faced similar challenges and made progress.

Consider Botswana, once one of Africa’s poorest countries, now ranking among the least corrupt on the continent. Key factors included consistent political will from leadership, independent anti-corruption agencies with real power, a cultural emphasis on “Botho” (respect for community), and transparent management of diamond revenues.

Consider Georgia and its traffic police miracle. In the early two-thousands, Georgia’s traffic police were notoriously corrupt. Reform involved firing the entire traffic police force—sixteen thousand officers—and rebuilding from scratch with higher pay and strict oversight, creating a culture where taking bribes became socially unacceptable. Public trust in police rose from five percent to eighty-three percent in five years.

Consider Rwanda’s use of technology through the Irembo platform, which digitizes government services, reducing opportunities for petty corruption by minimizing human interaction in service delivery.

The Ethiopian Context: What Works Here?

International examples must be adapted to Ethiopian realities.

We must leverage our cultural strengths such as  keeping your honor/dignity to make corruption shameful, employing religious institutions as moral educators, utilizing community structures like idirs and maheber or peer accountability.

We must take practical first steps: beginning with sectors where public anger is highest, likely land administration and traffic police; creating protected whistleblower mechanisms; implementing transparent e-governance for high-corruption services; paying living wages to reduce “survival corruption.”

A path forward: Concrete steps for Ethiopia

Immediate Actions

We need a national diagnosis: an independent, transparent audit of conflict of interest in five key sectors: procurement, land administration, customs, judiciary, and education.

We need a leadership declaration: Political, religious, and business leaders must publicly commit to and model ethical behavior. Symbolic acts matter: leaders publicly declaring assets, refusing inappropriate gifts.

We need public education: a national conversation about what constitutes conflict of interest, using relatable examples from daily life.

Medium-Term Reforms

We must strengthen the legal framework: clarifying conflict of interest laws with specific examples and realistic penalties.

We must establish institutional guards: an independent Office of Public Ethics with investigative power, protected whistleblower channels, mandatory conflict of interest declarations for public officials.

We must implement systemic changes: increasing public servant salaries to reduce economic pressure for corruption, digitizing high-risk services like permits and licenses, creating merit-based promotion systems in the civil service.

Long-Term Cultural Shift

We must integrate ethics education from primary school through university, tailored to the Ethiopian context.

We must create a social reward system with public recognition for ethical behavior through awards, honors, and media coverage.

We must foster intergenerational dialogue: structured conversations between elders who remember different norms and the youth about rebuilding ethical foundations.

We must encourage religious reformation: religious institutions must clean their own houses and lead by example.

Final thoughts

In 1988, when I wrote my first article on this subject, I was young enough to believe that exposing truth would lead to change. At thirty-six years older, I am wiser but not cynical. I have seen enough to know change is difficult, but I have also seen enough to know it is possible.

This is not just about laws or systems. It’s about who we are as Ethiopians. It’s about reclaiming our heritage of integrity. Our ancestors built Lalibela and Harar not for personal glory but for divine glory. Our scholars preserved knowledge through centuries not for personal gain but for collective enlightenment. Our farmers share water according to ancient rules of equity, not selfishness.

The disease of self-interest has infected us, but it has not killed our essence. I have seen taxi drivers return lost phones. I have seen neighbors care for orphans. I have seen teachers buying supplies for poor students from their meager salaries. The ethical Ethiopia still exists—it’s just being suffocated by the normalized corruption.

We must choose. We can continue down this path where everyone takes a little, and together we lose everything. Or we can begin, person by person, institution by institution, to rebuild an Ethiopia where position means service, where authority means responsibility, where success means contribution.

The conflict of interest epidemic will not be cured by a single law or a dramatic event. It will be cured by millions of small decisions: the official who refuses the inappropriate gift, the journalist who reports truth despite pressure, the religious leader who models humility, the businessperson who competes fairly, the teacher who grades honestly, the citizen who demands better.

I am in the evening of my life and career. I may not see the Ethiopia I have written toward for so long. But I write this for the young journalists, the future officials, the next generation who must decide what Ethiopia they will build. The question is not whether we can eliminate all conflict of interest—human nature guarantees we cannot. The question is whether we will normalize it or fight it.

After 36 years and one hundred eighty articles, my message remains the same, but now more urgent: Choose to fight. Start today. Start with yourself. Our children’s future depends on it.

Teshome Berhanu Kemal is a veteran journalist, researcher, and prolific author who has contributed to Ethiopian public discourse since 1988. His scholarly research on Islamic civilization, peaceful coexistence, and religious tolerance has been presented at both local and international forums.

 Contributed by Teshome Berhanu Kemal

In Eritrea’s case, the question of what comes after Isaias is therefore not a matter of routine political transition, but a looming national and regional concern. For years, commentators and analysts have expressed growing concern about Eritrea’s future—not because change is undesirable, but because of the way change is likely to come.

History shows that when long‑serving dictators die unexpectedly—especially those who neither groom successors nor allow institutions to develop—the aftermath is often turbulent. Sudan after Omar al‑Bashir, Libya after Muammar Gaddafi, and Iraq following Saddam Hussein offer sobering reminders of how the absence of a prepared transition can open the door to prolonged instability, internal conflict, and regional spillover. Power vacuums invite power struggles. Competing factions within the ruling elite move quickly to secure control. Security institutions fracture or overreact. At the same time, long‑suppressed opposition groups, both inside and outside the country, re‑emerge because the central figure of fear is suddenly gone. In such moments, uncertainty can escalate rapidly into instability.

Eritrea fits this pattern uncomfortably well. For more than three decades, political power has been concentrated almost entirely in the hands of one man. There is no functioning constitution, no independent judiciary, no elected legislature, and no visible succession plan. Political parties are banned, civil society is non‑existent, and even senior officials operate at the mercy of presidential discretion rather than institutional rules. This means that when the inevitable transition comes, it will not be managed by strong institutions, but by individuals and factions scrambling to fill the void.

One possible scenario is an internal power struggle within the military and security apparatus. Another is the emergence of a successor who attempts to consolidate authority through heightened brutality; believing that fear and repression are the only tools available to demonstrate control. We have seen this pattern elsewhere: a new ruler, insecure and untested, resorts to excessive force to signal strength, often plunging the country into deeper cycles of violence and isolation.

At the same time, Eritrean opposition groups—many of them fragmented, exiled, and weakened by years of repression—may see an opening to mobilize. While political awakening is not inherently negative, sudden and uncoordinated mobilization in a highly militarized society can lead to clashes, reprisals, and even civil conflict. Ordinary Eritreans, already exhausted by indefinite national service, mass migration, and economic hardship, would bear the heaviest cost.

This uncertainty does not stop at Eritrea’s borders. Any serious instability there will have direct ripple effects on Ethiopia and the wider Horn of Africa. Refugee flows could increase dramatically. Border security could deteriorate. Armed groups may exploit the chaos. Regional rivalries could intensify as external actors attempt to influence the post‑Isaias order. Periods of political vacuum often attract regional and international actors seeking to shape outcomes in line with their own strategic interests, frequently complicating already fragile transitions. For Ethiopia, which shares deep historical, social, and security linkages with Eritrea, pretending that this is an internal Eritrean matter alone would be dangerously short‑sighted.

The question is not whether Eritrea will face a transition, but how sudden, how violent, and how destabilizing it may be—and how prepared neighboring states will be when that moment arrives. For Ethiopia, preparedness must go beyond passive readiness: it should include a clear-eyed assessment of national interests related to security, border stability, trade, regional influence, and the protection of its citizens. Pursuing these interests does not require intervention or coercion, but it does demand proactive diplomacy, strategic engagement with regional and international partners, and the capacity to shape outcomes in ways that minimize risks and maximize stability.

 At the same time, Ethiopia’s approach should be guided by a genuine hope that any transition in Eritrea ultimately serves the aspirations of the Eritrean people—for peace, dignity, accountable governance, and a normal life after decades of repression and sacrifice. Preparing for this moment now, with both national interests and regional goodwill in mind, is not only prudent; it is an expression of responsible and forward-looking statecraft.

(Tessema Mebratu is a legal scholar and practitioner specializing in human rights, rule of law, and transitional justice. He holds a PhD in Law and has over 15 years of experience managing civil society, democracy, and justice sector programs in Ethiopia. He has worked extensively on accountability, institutional reform, and conflict prevention, and is committed to promoting evidence-based dialogue and justice for victims of mass atrocities in Ethiopia.)

Contributed by Tessema Mebratu (PhD)

This shift, while fundamentally aligned with sound economic principles, has laid bare the complex realities of an economy in undergoing a structural change. The core economic truth is inescapable: in a nation wrestling with limited export diversification and a formidable appetite for imports, the innate market pressure, all else being equal, points towards depreciation. The policy challenge, therefore, transcends the simple adoption of a floating regime. It evolves into an issue of managing the transition, where the core principles must be judiciously woven with a deeply responsible and inclusive orientation to governance. The recent dynamics surrounding the National Bank of Ethiopia’s (NBE) forex auctions offer a compelling, if concerning, case study in this delicate balance.

From a purely theoretical standpoint, the move towards a market-responsive exchange rate is a cornerstone of modern financial economics. It allows the price of foreign currency to act as a critical signal, reflecting the true relative scarcity of foreign exchange, encouraging export competitiveness, and rationing imports. It is a necessary long-term medicine for an economy seeking integration and efficiency. However, financial economics is not a doctrine applied in a vacuum; it is a discipline acutely aware of frictions, imperfections, and transitional pathologies.

The current Ethiopian context is characterized by such frictions: an inelastic demand for essential imports—from pharmaceuticals to industrial inputs—and a supply of forex that is constrained by modest export earnings and remittance flows still navigating new formal channels. In this setting, the textbook model predicts overshooting and heightened volatility. The exchange rate doesn’t glide to a new equilibrium; it can lurch, driven by pent-up demand and speculative anxieties.

It is precisely to temper this volatility, to smooth the transition, that the NBE has rightly assumed its role as a stabilizing actor through the forex auctions. This is textbook central banking: providing liquidity to an illiquid market to prevent disruptive gaps. Yet, the mechanism’s outcomes are revealing a critical friction not in the macroeconomic structure, but in the intermediary behavior of the commercial banks.

What we are observing is a poignant example of a short-term profit motive trumping long-term market stability and collective welfare. In their urgent quest to cover their own forex liabilities and meet client demands, banks are bidding at auctions at rates that exceed the prevailing interbank or open-market rates. This is not a mere competitive scramble; it is an action with profound signaling power. By validating these elevated levels in the formal auction setting, they effectively rubber-stamp a new, higher benchmark. The subsequent effect is a ratchet: today’s auction price becomes tomorrow’s market reference, creating a self-fulfilling prophecy of ascent.

This aggressive bidding reveals a further layer of institutional myopia. Ironically, many of these same banks are now paying a steep price for the very opposite behavior in the pre-reform era.

For years, operating within a controlled system, a culture of over-trading in foreign exchange positions became prevalent—taking on significant forex liabilities without the genuine hedging discipline a true market demands. Now, as the birr depreciates sharply, these accumulated imbalances are crystallizing into substantial valuation losses on their own books. They are, in effect, caught in a pincer movement: suffering losses from the legacy of a distorted past while their present actions actively worsen the conditions causing those losses. Their frantic bidding is thus not merely profit-seeking; it is also a defensive scramble to cover exposed positions, a reactive maneuver that tragically amplifies the very systemic risk they seek to mitigate for themselves.

The economics of this behavior are clear for the individual bank: secure the currency at any attainable price, maintain the sacred buy-sell margin, and pass the full cost—plus commission— onto the importer client. The bank’s ledger remains protected; its profitability on the transaction may even be enhanced. But this is where responsible governance must vehemently interrupt the narrow financial calculus. This micro-rationality sums into a macro-irrationality, a collective action problem where the pursuit of individual stability undermines systemic stability. The consequence is a transmission of relentless inflationary pressure. Every birr devaluation captured in these auction spikes translates directly into higher costs for essential imports. These costs cascade through the economy, inflating the price of medicines, fertilizer, machinery, and ultimately, the cost of living for every Ethiopian citizen.

To ask, “Do the banks care about the public consequence?” is to ask a question about the very soul of financial intermediation. An institution that is truly customer-centric, that views its role as a fiduciary partner in national development, must look beyond the immediate quarterly statement.

This is not a plea for a return to heavy-handed control, nor a suggestion that the NBE should force banks to participate at artificially low rates—such a move would simply kill the auction and drive activity into the shadows. Rather, it is an argument for a recalibrated understanding of enlightened self-interest and regulatory stewardship.

The NBE, in its commendable mission to stabilize, operates within its direct tools: injecting supply and setting auction parameters. However, the ceiling of sustainable rate increase—the point beyond which social and economic stability is jeopardized—can only be reached if all actors in the ecosystem share the burden of responsibility. The commercial banks must recognize that their role is not that of passive spectators in a market they decry as unstable, but active co-pilots. Exercising restraint in auction bidding, developing more sophisticated forex risk management for their clients, and innovating to foster export sectors are not charitable acts; they are strategic imperatives for operating in a fragile, transitioning economy. Their long-term viability is inextricably linked to the nation’s macroeconomic health.

Ultimately, the path forward demands a synthesis. Financial economics provides the map: a market-determined rate is the destination, but the journey requires buffers, signals, and managed expectations. Responsible and inclusive governance provides the compass: every policy and commercial decision must be gauged against its impact on the broader public, on the small business owner needing imported spare parts, on the family budgeting for household necessities.

 The NBE’s auction is more than a liquidity window; it is a theater where this synthesis is tested daily. For the reforms to succeed, for stability to emerge from the current volatility, the actors on this stage must play their parts with a dual consciousness: of the rational profit motive and of the profound social contract inherent in managing a nation’s currency.

The quest is not for a perfectly stable, artificially pegged rate, but for a credible and responsibly guided journey towards a market rate that reflects economic fundamentals without being hijacked by short-term opportunism. In this endeavor, looking beyond the immediate bid is the very essence of both sound economics and patriotic duty.

(William Brooks is a freelance consultant with interests in business and politics in East Africa. He can be reached at willybrooks87@gmail.com)

Contributed by William Brooks

Hosting COP32 presents Ethiopia with a defining choice: between performance and proof. The world will arrive in Addis Ababa looking past the polished venues and upgraded roads—the necessary stagecraft of a global summit—to see if the host city can deliver measurable progress on its own gravest environmental crisis. For a nation long a vocal champion of climate justice on the world stage, this is the moment to demonstrate climate justice on its own streets.

The most visceral and credible proof point is the city’s air. With PM₂.₅ concentrations sustained at six to eight times the World Health Organization’s safety guideline, Addis Ababa’s atmosphere constitutes a daily public health emergency. The toxic haze is not an abstract metric; it is the air breathed by schoolchildren, market vendors, and commuters. For a COP host, visibly and verifiably clearing this haze is the non-negotiable benchmark of leadership. It is the difference between hosting a conference and leading a transformation.

This reframes the central challenge for the city. It is no longer “can Addis build?” but “can it clean?” Infrastructure enhances image; clean air saves lives and delivers the proof this moment demands. To be credible, an intervention must achieve a minimum five percent reduction in citywide annual PM₂.₅ before November 2027—a threshold that is both measurable and meaningful. It must also generate immediate, visible co-benefits that resonate with citizens: protecting children, safeguarding workers, and reducing household burdens.

The critical question is not whether Addis Ababa must act, but where. Which sector can deliver verifiable reductions within a 30-month political window? Source studies consistently identify transport as the largest contributor to PM₂.₅ (30–50 percent), followed by biomass combustion (20–25 percent). Industry, road dust, and other minor sources make up the remainder, each individually smaller and more diffuse.

Paradoxically, this prominence makes transport a policy trap within a 30-month window. The path to rapid, verifiable cuts lies elsewhere—in the city’s institutional and commercial kitchens. A clean kitchen transition offers the most direct, feasible, and credible route for converting climate ambition into measurable progress.

The Limits of a Cosmetic Fix

The city’s congested roads and visible exhaust make transport an intuitive, almost reflexive, target for air quality action. This focus is politically convenient and symbolically potent. But for the specific and unforgiving purpose of delivering measurable proof of cleaner air before COP32, it is a strategic cul-de-sac. Pursuing transport as the flagship achievement for 2027 risks investing in a cosmetic fix—one that may modernize the city’s image but fails to substantively improve the air its citizens breathe. The constraints are not of will, but of physics, economics, and institutional tempo.

First, fleet turnover is geologically slow. Addis Ababa’s vehicle stock is aged and replaces itself incrementally. Aggressive scrappage or import policies can only affect the thin margin of new registrations, leaving the vast, high-emitting fleet largely unchanged through 2027. The city cannot legislate away the physical lifespan of a minibus.

Second, electric mobility is a 2030 solution, not a 2027 fix. Electrification is critical for Ethiopia’s long-term energy security and decarbonization. Yet, for impacting PM₂.₅ in the next three years, it is a mirage. Barriers of cost, charging infrastructure, grid stability, and supply chain scale prevent the mass penetration required to shift the city’s pollution profile. The numbers needed simply cannot materialize in time.

Third, regulatory reform operates on a bureaucratic clock. Strengthening fuel standards, enforcing emissions testing, and overhauling inspection regimes are essential, complex endeavors. They require regulatory design, legislative approval, capacitation of enforcement bodies, and market adaptation—a process measured in years, not months. Their benefits, while real, will mature well after the COP32 spotlight has faded.

 This is not an argument against transport reform; it is an argument for strategic clarity. Ambitious transport policy is a long-term imperative for urban livability and climate mitigation. But it is a profound distraction as the chosen vehicle for a near-term, verifiable victory. To pretend otherwise is to guarantee a narrative of underachievement.

 Institutional Kitchens as a Site of Demonstration

With transport unable to deliver verifiable proof by 2027, the search for credible climate action must follow a different logic. The right sector must be large enough to move the city’s pollution average, yet concentrated enough to be transformed within 30 months. It must be embedded in systems that allow for enforceable intervention, and its transformation must produce visible, human-scale benefits that build public momentum. Only the city’s commercial and institutional kitchens meet all these demands.

 Here, the scale is significant but contained. Biomass combustion contributes 20–25 percent of Addis Ababa’s total PM₂.₅, and within that, kitchens account for an estimated 40–50 percent of emissions—translating to 6–12 percent of the city’s overall PM₂.₅ burden. This is a substantial slice of the pollution pie, yet it emanates from a finite, mappable geography: school compounds, restaurant rows, and vendor clusters.

It is the structure of this sector that makes it uniquely tractable. Unlike the diffuse challenge of household energy, institutional kitchens are nodes of concentrated consumption already under formal or informal oversight. Schools answer to municipal procurement; restaurants are subject to licensing; vendors organize in associations. This existing administrative footprint turns a citywide environmental problem into a series of targetable, manageable projects. The transition becomes a logistical and regulatory exercise, not a sociological one.

Furthermore, these are not anonymous emission points. They are places of daily life—where children eat, where people work, where communities gather. Reducing pollution here delivers an immediate sensory and health benefit to defined populations. This creates a powerful feedback loop: visible action reinforces public support, which in turn sustains political will. A clean kitchen initiative thus becomes more than an emission reduction program; it becomes a tangible demonstration of the state’s capacity to deliver a public good—cleaner air—where it is most acutely felt.

Engineering a Proof Point

Identifying the kitchen sector as the strategic priority is only the first step. The decisive question is whether its emissions can be reduced quickly and verifiably enough to shift the city’s air quality before COP32. Here, the move from ambition to proof depends on a clear, defensible calculation. The task is not to promise transformation, but to engineer a measurable result.

The projection rests on a simple, transparent formula built from two conservative, empirically grounded inputs. First, the kitchen sector’s share of total PM₂.₅—a central estimate of 10 percent, within a defensible range of 6–15 percent. Second, the achievable emissions reduction from deploying modern stoves—a sector-wide average of 60–70 percent, based on the verified performance of technologies already manufactured and used in Ethiopia. Multiplying these figures yields the anticipated citywide PM₂.₅ reduction.

The technologies at the heart of this calculation are not prototypes; they are commercial products with established supply chains. In schools, institutional rocket or gasifier stoves can replace three-stone fires, cutting emissions by 60–85 percent. In restaurants and catering services, similar stoves, improved charcoal stoves and efficient “absit metaya” can achieve reductions of 40–70 percent. For street vendors, upgraded braziers yield gains of 30–50 percent. These devices do more than reduce pollution—they slash fuel costs, creating a natural economic incentive for adoption. This is not a subsidy-dependent leap of faith, but an operational upgrade that pays for itself.

Applying the model produces a clear outcome spectrum. Under a conservative scenario, the transition yields a 3.6 percent citywide PM₂.₅ reduction. The central, most likely scenario delivers approximately 6.5 percent. An ambitious, high-adoption scenario reaches 10.5 percent. Therefore, a well-executed clean kitchen transition can reliably deliver a 6–10 percent reduction in Addis Ababa’s annual average PM₂.₅—a result that comfortably exceeds the five percent credibility threshold required for COP32 and constitutes a detectable shift in urban air quality.

Feasibility is engineered into the sector’s very structure. The intervention targets a finite, manageable universe: roughly 1,000 schools, 2,500 formal eateries, and 6,000 vendor clusters. These entities are already reachable through public procurement, business licensing, and municipal oversight—no new legal frameworks are required. Progress can be tracked in real time through stove deployment records, fuel sales data, and air monitors placed in schools and markets, creating an auditable trail from action to outcome.

 This confluence of scale, existing infrastructure, and monitorability is what distinguishes the kitchen transition. It transforms an atmospheric challenge into a series of discrete, completable tasks. The result is more than a statistic; it is a deliberately constructed proof point—a verifiable signal that Addis Ababa can translate climate commitment into measured, accountable progress.

 Proof with Purpose

A clean kitchen transition transcends an air quality metric. Its true power lies in delivering a triple dividend—tangible gains in public health, equity, and climate resilience that align directly with Ethiopia’s flagship national initiatives. This is where technical intervention becomes political leadership: by creating proof that improves lives.

 The first and most immediate dividend is public health and equity. Institutional kitchens are among the city’s most hazardous environments, with PM₂.₅ concentrations frequently reaching 20 to 100 times WHO guidelines.

 Transitioning them is a direct health intervention for the city’s most exposed populations. For nearly one million schoolchildren, it means replacing hours of toxic exposure during the school day with cleaner air, reducing risks of asthma, bronchitis, and absenteeism. For the tens of thousands of women who work as cooks, vendors, and cafeteria staff across schools, restaurants, and markets, it means safer workplaces with less respiratory illness, fewer burns, and liberation from a significant portion of the fuel-cost and time burden. This is not a marginal co-benefit; it is the core of a just transition—climate action that repairs, rather than ignores, existing inequities.

 The second dividend is rapid, visible air quality gains where they matter most. While the citywide PM₂.₅ reduction is 6–10 percent, the local impact in high-exposure zones is transformative. Schoolyards, market corridors, and restaurant districts can experience 30–60 percent drops in ambient smoke. This delivers the palpable, sensory change promised by the Clean Ethiopia initiative—a city that feels cleaner, not just one that reports better numbers. It creates everyday proof points for residents and delegates alike, turning abstract policy into lived experience.

 The third dividend is climate mitigation woven with national legacy. The transition directly accelerates Ethiopia’s environmental ambitions. It cuts biomass demand by 50–70 percent, preserving an estimated 10,000–20,000 hectares of forest annually from fuelwood extraction. This provides the demand-side complement to the Green Legacy Initiative, transforming it from a planting campaign into a holistic forest protection strategy. Concurrently, it avoids 75,000–125,000 tons of CO₂e annually, creating a high-integrity carbon asset. Most significantly, it activates Ethiopia’s globally recognized potential: the nation ranks third in the world for climate mitigation through clean cooking. A successful capital-city program is the essential first step in mobilizing this national advantage, positioning Ethiopia not as a host of talks, but as a provider of scalable solutions.

 A 30-Month Demonstration Project

A compelling case must culminate in a credible plan. The logic of the kitchen transition is clear; its viability now depends on execution. Fortunately, this is not a call for new institutions or laws, but for the focused alignment of existing tools—procurement, licensing, public-private partnerships—toward a single, winnable priority. The goal is to engineer a citywide demonstration project, completed within 30 months, that stands as irrefutable proof of delivery before COP32 convenes.

The project unfolds in three overlapping phases, each designed for visibility and momentum. Phase One targets schools as the fastest, most morally unambiguous win. Launching a Clean Air for Schools initiative and procuring efficient institutional stoves for all public kitchens would, within the first year, protect almost one million children and the women who prepare their meals from toxic exposure, while eliminating the most visually stark plumes of biomass smoke. This is more than an upgrade; it is a public signal of intent and a foundation of public trust.

Phase Two engages restaurants and caterers, leveraging scale through regulation. By integrating clean stove standards into the business license renewal cycle—supported by bulk procurement and vendor financing—the city can systematically upgrade thousands of commercial kitchens over 30 months. This turns a mandate into an economic opportunity for businesses, as fuel savings quickly outweigh costs, driving citywide reductions in biomass demand.

Phase Three organizes the informal network of street vendors. By executing stove-swap programs in partnership with microfinance providers, Addis Ababa can transform the air quality in its densest market corridors. This final phase, completed by 2027, ensures no major combustion source is left behind, delivering visible change in the city’s most vibrant public spaces.

Financing this transition is an exercise in unlocking value, not allocating burdens. For the women running school kitchens and vendor businesses, the powerful economic logic of the stoves—cutting fuel costs by 40–85 percent—enables a pay-as-you-save model. Low-interest supplier credit or microloans, repayable from the efficiency gains, turn upfront costs into cashflow-positive investments. Public funding is not for subsidies, but for de-risking this credit and scaling procurement to lower unit costs. Concurrently, the verifiable emissions reductions create a high-quality carbon asset, enabling forward finance agreements that further reduce capital constraints. This is a model designed to convert private savings into public benefit, catalyzing rather than draining municipal resources.

Ultimately, credibility will be built through transparent verification. A public Clean Kitchen Dashboard tracking stove deployment, fuel sales trends, and air quality readings from schoolyards and markets will turn implementation into a narrative of accountable progress. By 2026, this dashboard will show pollution declining in targeted zones. By COP32, it will document a verifiable downward trend in the city’s annual PM₂.₅ average.

The Logic Withstands Scrutiny

A proposal of this scope invites skepticism. This is not a weakness, but a necessary test. When examined, the common objections do not point toward a better alternative; they reinforce why the clean kitchen transition is the only viable path for 2027. Scrutiny solidifies the case.

 Some will argue that households, not institutions, are the true heart of biomass use and deserve priority. The response is a matter of timeline, not principle. Household energy transitions are a generational project of behavior change, financing, and supply-chain evolution. Institutional kitchens represent a bounded, 36-month project of regulation and procurement. For a COP host needing a verifiable achievement, the choice is not between good and perfect, but between possible and impossible.

Others may question the maturity and affordability of the technology. This concern dissolves upon inspection. The stoves required are not prototypes; they are products manufactured in Ethiopia, sold in markets, and proven in commercial kitchens. Their most powerful feature is economic: they cut fuel costs by 40-85 percent, creating a natural incentive for adoption. The barrier is not technology or cost, but coordination.

A related critique centers on enforcement: can the city possibly regulate thousands of kitchens? The answer lies in existing systems, not new ones. Schools follow procurement rules. Restaurants operate under municipal licenses. Vendors cluster in kebeles. The transition requires not a new bureaucracy, but the deliberate application of these existing levers to a new priority. It is an exercise in administrative focus.

 A deeper, strategic objection may arise: does this narrow focus distract from larger, systemic climate goals? The opposite is true. By delivering integrated gains in health, forests, and air quality, the kitchen transition activates the core aims of Clean Ethiopia and the Green Legacy Initiative. It provides the operational blueprint and political confidence needed to tackle subsequent, harder challenges. It is not a detour, but an essential first step—a demonstration of capability that makes broader ambition credible.

 The scrutiny leads to a single, inescapable conclusion. Transport cannot deliver in time. Households cannot be mobilized at scale. Only kitchens occupy the narrow intersection of significant impact and rapid executability. The clean kitchen transition withstands scrutiny not because it is perfect, but because it is the only option that meets the non-negotiable terms of the moment: it must be big enough to matter, fast enough to show, and clear enough to believe.

Proof, Not Performance

As Addis Ababa prepares to host COP32, the city stands at a defining juncture. It can choose to perform, or it can choose to prove. The world will arrive to a city whose infrastructure gleams, whose venues impress, and whose hospitality is warm. But these are the expected amenities of any global host. What will resonate, what will be remembered, and what will truly define Ethiopia’s leadership, is the evidence of tangible progress on the crisis that most directly affects its people: the air they breathe.

 A clean kitchen transition offers that proof. It is a targeted, executable intervention that meets the strategic demands of the moment. It is significant enough to reduce citywide PM₂.₅ by 6–10 percent . It is fast enough to deliver verifiable results within 30 months. It is verifiable enough to be tracked transparently from stove to sensor. And it is purposeful enough to protect children, empower women, preserve forests, and activate Ethiopia’s global clean-cooking potential. This is not a theoretical proposal; it is a ready-made demonstration project, built with local tools and existing systems, waiting only for the decision to begin.

 By choosing this path, Addis Ababa would do more than meet a host city’s obligation. It would redefine it. It would shift the paradigm from presenting pledges to presenting proof, from staging discussions to showcasing delivery. The legacy would be a city that improved not only its facade, but its fundamental vitality—prioritizing the well-being of its citizens as the ultimate measure of climate leadership.

 When delegates gather in 2027, the most powerful statement of Ethiopia’s commitment will not be heard in an opening speech. It will be felt in the clearer air of its schoolyards, seen in the diminished haze over its markets, and noticed in the transformed kitchens where its people work. This tangible evidence will testify to a choice made now: to anchor climate ambition in human progress, and to let the proof of that choice rise, unmistakably, for all to see.

 This is the opportunity before Addis Ababa. It is the opportunity to move from pledges to plates, from performance to proof. The world is watching, but more importantly, the city’s own people are waiting. Let the air itself tell the story of what was achieved.

(Tsegaye Nega (PhD) is a Professor Emeritus at Carleton College in the United States and the Founder and CEO of Anega Energies Manufacturing.)

Contributed by Tsegaye Nega (PhD)

At its core, IFRS 18 does not change how profit is calculated; rather, it changes how performance is presented and explained. This distinction is critical for preparers, regulators, investors, and lenders alike, particularly in an emerging market such as Ethiopia where transparency and comparability of financial information are increasingly important.

A More Structured Income Statement

One of the most visible changes introduced by IFRS 18 is a more structured statement of profit or loss. Under the previous standard, IAS 1, entities enjoyed considerable flexibility in how income and expenses were grouped and subtotals were presented. While this flexibility allowed customization, it also reduced comparability between entities, even within the same industry.

IFRS 18 addresses this by requiring entities to classify income and expenses into clearly defined categories— operating, investing, financing, income tax, and discontinued operations. In addition, two mandatory subtotals must now be presented: operating profit and profit before financing and income tax. These subtotals are expected to become key reference points for users of financial statements.

For Ethiopian businesses, particularly manufacturing companies, service providers, and financial institutions, this will result in income statements that are easier to understand and compare. Banks, investors, and development partners will be able to assess operating performance without the noise of financing structures or one-off investment gains.

Clarifying What “Operating Profit” Really Means

Under IFRS 18, operating profit is clearly defined as the result of income and expenses arising from an entity’s main business activities. This may seem straightforward, but in practice it requires careful judgment, especially for entities whose core business involves investing or financing activities, such as banks, microfinance institutions, and investment companies.

In the Ethiopian context, this clarification is particularly relevant. Financial institutions will need to reassess how they classify interest income, interest expense, and related items. Non-financial entities, meanwhile, will benefit from a more consistent definition of operating performance, improving discussions with lenders, shareholders, and regulators.

Bringing Management Performance Measures into the Open

A major innovation under IFRS 18 is the introduction of Management-Defined Performance Measures (MPMs) into audited financial statements. Many Ethiopian companies already use alternative performance measures— such as adjusted profit or EBITDA— in board reports, investor presentations, or loan negotiations. Previously, these measures were largely unregulated.

IFRS 18 now requires that such measures, if used publicly, be disclosed in a dedicated note, clearly explained, and reconciled to IFRS-defined figures. Importantly, these disclosures will be subject to audit.

This change has practical implications for Ethiopian entities. It enhances credibility with banks, donors, and investors by ensuring that management’s preferred performance indicators are transparent and consistent with audited results. At the same time, it places greater responsibility on preparers to ensure discipline and consistency in how these measures are defined and communicated.

Improved Transparency Through Better Disaggregation

Another key focus of IFRS 18 is how information is grouped and presented. The standard introduces stronger principles on aggregation and disaggregation, discouraging the overuse of vague labels such as “other income” or “miscellaneous expenses.” Instead, entities are expected to present information in a way that reflects shared economic characteristics.

For Ethiopian companies, this will likely lead to more informative financial statements, particularly for sectors where cost structures are critical, such as manufacturing, construction, and agriculture-related businesses. More meaningful disaggregation can also support better internal decision-making and cost control.

Implications Beyond the Income Statement

IFRS 18 also influences other parts of the financial statements. The statement of cash flows, for example, will be more closely aligned with the new profit or loss structure, with the indirect method starting from operating profit. The statement of financial position encourages clearer presentation, including separate disclosure of goodwill. Additional disclosure requirements also apply to earnings per share.

These changes will require updates to accounting systems, charts of accounts, and internal reporting processes. For many Ethiopian entities, particularly those transitioning to more sophisticated financial reporting frameworks, this represents both a challenge and an opportunity.

Looking Ahead

IFRS 18 represents a significant step forward in financial reporting. By standardizing how performance is presented and ensuring greater transparency around management-defined measures, it addresses long-standing concerns of users of financial statements. For Ethiopia, successful implementation of IFRS 18 can contribute meaningfully to stronger corporate governance, better access to capital, and a more credible financial reporting environment.

What Ethiopian CFOs Should Do Ahead of IFRS 18

Although IFRS 18 becomes effective in 2027, the transition will require time and careful planning. Hence, CFOs and finance managers are expected to perform an early impact assessment by reviewing current financial statements to identify where presentation, subtotals, and classifications will change under IFRS 18, particularly the statement of profit or loss. They are also expected to revisit the chart of accounts and reporting structures. This ensures accounts can support the new operating, investing, and financing categories, as well as mandatory subtotals such as operating profit.

CFOs should also identify and document management-defined performance measures (MPMs) by listing all alternative performance measures currently used in board reports, investor decks, or loan discussions and assessing how they will be disclosed and reconciled under IFRS 18. In addition, engaging auditors and regulators early to discuss interpretation issues—especially for banks—to avoid late surprises during transition is equally important.

Further, managers should invest in capacity building. Training finance teams and senior management on IFRS 18 requirements ensures consistent understanding across the organization. They should also align internal and external reporting by using the IFRS 18 structure to improve internal performance reporting, budgeting, and communication with lenders, investors, and development partners.

The message is clear: the time to start preparing is now.

Gobeze Dessalegn is the Director of HST Consulting PLC and a senior member FCCA of Association of Chartered Certified Accountants, UK, (ACCA). He is also a board member and chairperson of audit, risk & compliance committee for HST Investment Advisory Services PLC.

Contributed by Gobeze Dessalegn

How can Ethiopia’s laudable labor protections, designed to reward loyalty, be reconciled with the unique and sacred timeline of a child’s school year?

Ethiopia’s provision of severance pay for employees with five or more years of service is a cornerstone of equitable labor practice. It is a societal promise that sustained dedication deserves tangible security, a principle that commands full respect. This law rightly acknowledges the dignity of long service across all sectors. However, its uniform application inadvertently creates a severe dissonance within private education, a field governed not by the fiscal year alone, but by the immutable rhythm of the academic calendar.

In this context, a specific, problematic incentive has emerged. Upon reaching the five-year eligibility threshold, a teacher—though it is critical to state that this does not apply to all teachers—may find it financially rational to resign mid-term. They receive a significant lawful payout and, owing to the chronic demand for qualified educators, often secure a new position swiftly.

For the individual, this is a logical outcome within the current framework. For the school ecosystem, however, it is a destabilizing event.

The primary casualty is the quality of education. A student’s learning journey is a continuous narrative, not a series of disconnected lessons. A mid-year departure shatters hard-won teacher-student rapport, aborts carefully crafted lesson plans, and forces a scrambling institution to insert a replacement during a critical learning period. The disruption is profound and the educational loss, though difficult to quantify, is real.

This scenario pits a teacher’s individual legal entitlement against the collective right of students to a stable, coherent education. It is essential to clarify that this is not a story of widespread teacher exploitation of the system. Most educators are deeply committed professionals who honor their contracts. The issue, rather, is a structural mismatch.

The law states “five years equals entitlement,” without considering the pedagogical contract that underpin a teacher’s annual duty. Teaching is fundamentally different from many other forms of employment. Its efficacy is inextricably linked to seeing a defined cycle— the academic year—through to its natural conclusion. Leaving in March or October is not merely changing jobs; it is defaulting on an implicit promise made to every student and parent in that classroom.

It is best if a targeted, common-sense refinement to the severance pay provision for private school teachers is introduced. The principle must remain inviolable: the full financial entitlement accrued for five or more years of service is irrevocable. However, for voluntary resignations, the payout of this entitlement should be contingent upon the completion of the contracted academic year.

This proposal is preservative, not punitive. It is designed to align financial incentives with professional responsibility. It would not apply to dismissals, which are the employer’s decision, or to genuine unforeseen emergencies such as health crises. Its sole focus is the voluntary midyear resignation that maximized personal financial timing at the expense of educational continuity.

Implementation would require explaining some definitions, particularly of “due notice.” In education, standard 30-day notice is often insufficient to ensure a smooth transition. Notice should logically align with the academic calendar, requiring a term’s notice to allow for an orderly handover at a natural break, such as a semester’s end.

The benefits of such an adjustment are manifold. For schools, it provides operational stability, allowing them to protect their core mission—the uninterrupted delivery of quality education—and to invest confidently in long-term teaching talent without fearing a disruptive exodus at the five-year mark.

For parents and students, it safeguards the integrity of the learning process, ensuring that the teacher who begins the year’s story is there to write its conclusion. For the teaching profession itself, this change would formally recognize its unique cyclical nature, elevating its status by framing it as a vocation with distinct temporal responsibilities. It protects teachers from a potential backlash where schools might grow hesitant to hire or retain staff approaching the eligibility milestone.

Ultimately, this is an argument for making a good law contextually great. Ethiopia’s severance pay law is just. But true justice is practical and considers the specific realities of different sectors. By adding a clause that respects the sanctity of the academic year, we do more than protect a financial mechanism. We protect the educational process itself.  A teacher’s rightful reward for years of service should never come at the cost of their students’ current academic year.

We can, and must, craft policies that allow educators to be both fairly compensated professionals and the steadfast mentors our children deserve. The goal is to ensure that when the final bell rings in June, both report cards and professional consciences are unblemished, and the promise of a complete education has been faithfully kept.

Befikadu Eba is the founder and managing director of Erudite Africa Investments. He is a former banker with strong interests in economics, private sector development, public finance and financial inclusion. He can be reached at befikadu.eba@eruditeafrica.com.

Contributed by Befikadu Eba

Olympic 1500m bronze medallist Nuguse will go for his fourth consecutive NYRR Wanamaker Mile victory, in a race against Hobbs Kessler and Cameron Myers, who finished second and third behind him this year. Nuguse broke the world record with his winning performance of 3:46.63, a record that was improved to 3:45.14 by Jakob Ingebrigtsen in Lievin.

Olympic 5000m and 10,000m bronze medallist Fisher will take on the two-mile event in 2026, renewing his rivalry with Olympic 1500m and world 5000m champion Cole Hocker. 

The two athletes both finished inside the previous world short track record when they raced the 3000m this year, Fisher winning in 7:22.91 and Hocker finishing second in 7:23.14.

A series of other major medallists will join them in New York.

Saint Lucia’s 2024 world indoor 60m champion Julien Alfred, who won the Olympic 100m title last year, has been announced for the 60m against Jacious Sears, Dina Asher-Smith and Aleia Hobbs.

In the 60m hurdles, Bahamian two-time world indoor champion and world record-holder Devynne Charlton will face Jamaica’s Danielle Williams and Megan Tapper.

USA’s two-time world shot put gold medallist Joe Kovacs will open his season, as part of a field also featuring Rajindra Campbell, Josh Awotunde, Tripp Piperi, Roger Steen and Chuk Enekwechi.

Elle St. Pierre will seek another victory in the NYRR Women’s Wanamaker Mile. She will face some tough competition from Jess Hull, Nikki Hiltz, Dorcus Ewoi and Sinclaire Johnson.

(World Athletics)

Mechal, Mekele, 70 Enderta, and Ethiopian Insurance booked their places in the quarterfinals of the knockout cup.

Ethiopian Coffee lost 1–0 to Mekele 70 Enderta at Addis Ababa Stadium. The Ethiopian Premier League strugglers were beaten by the Browns with a superb free-kick goal from Fitsum Alemu in the first half.

Mechal defeated Dire Dawa Ketema 5–4 on penalties as they progressed to the last eight. Yodahe Dawit’s goal in the second half was cancelled out by Jafar Mudashir as the army side’s hunt for Ethiopian Cup glory continues.

Ethiopian Higher League side Boditi Ketema stunned top-flight side Bahirdar Ketema 6–5 on penalties after regulation time ended in a one-all draw. The Wolayta side took the lead through veteran player Samson Kolecha, but the Waves of Tana equalised with a strike from Ananya Getachew. Boditi Ketema is the only second-division side to knock out a Premier League team in the round of 16.

(Pan-African Football)