IN MESQEL SQUARE, FAITH ENDURES!

Meskel Square turned into a rolling wave of colour and sound on Friday, September 26, 2025, as thousands pressed toward the annual bonfire celebrating the holiday of Mesqel, which honours the discovery of the “True Cross.” For many, Mesqel is more than a holiday. It is a living tradition that fuses faith, culture and the shared trust of standing shoulder-to-shoulder under vigilant eyes, celebrating a story nearly two millennia old. From Africa Avenue (Bole Road) to the Square itself, every entrance became a checkpoint. Revellers were screened first by city police, then by federal officers. Volunteers in bright vests guided foot traffic, while street photographers set up makeshift studios to capture the throng arriving in embroidered robes and suit coats.

At Mesqel Square, the crowd spanned church, state and foreign missions. Abune Matiwos, patriarch of the Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo Church, sat near Addis Abeba Mayor Adanech Abeebie and Tourism Minister’s Shewit Shanka. Diplomats dotted the rows behind them. Many attendees recorded the scene on their phones; some watched from far-off screens. Among the visitors was Leonardo Luca, an Italian seeing Mesqel for the first time. Moving carefully through the mass of people, he was flanked by friends who had attended more than five celebrations.

“It’s amazing,” he told Fortune, gesturing toward the swirl of traditional dress. “At first, seeing the police at the entrances, treating everyone equally, I remembered the rumours and felt a flicker of fear.”  Luca, holding three small Ethiopian flags and a Canon camera, plans to visit the monastery at Gishen Mariam on Sunday, a site linked to the Cross. A larger flag proved hard to find, and lacking an entry permit, he had to abandon some of his photo ideas.

The Square pulsed with sound as more than 9,000 Sunday school students sang hymns. Groups from Dawro, Oromia Regional State and English-speaking communities layered their voices into the chorus, displaying Ethiopia’s diversity. Actors in robes evoked Queen Sheba and other figures from Ethiopian lore. This year, the national flag appeared only infront stage, a change from last year, but the crowd’s energy never dipped. When clerics lit the bonfire, the afternoon slipped away quickly. Spectators leaned forward, phones aloft, as flames rose. Though the ceremony felt brief, each moment carried a sense of devotion and history, culminating in a roar of cheers that echoed off the surrounding buildings.

Birr Inches Forward on Forex Market as Policy Pulls Back

The National Bank of Ethiopia (NBE) entered the foreign exchange market last week with a calibrated display of resolve. On Monday, September 22, 2025, it posted a buying rate of 145.89 Br to a dollar, only a tenth of a Birr below the selling rate. As the week unfolded, the Central Bank subtly pushed the rates down. By Friday, the buying quote had eased to 143.66 Br and the selling rate to 145.1 Br.

Spreads compressed to 0.02pc mid-week before widening again to one percent, still half the market norm. The message was unmistakable. The Central Bank is not a passive observer in this “floating” regime. It is willing to lean in, whether to anchor expectations, test tighter bands, or nudge liquidity in its desired direction.

Bankers have appeared to have taken note, as most of them froze. Hardly anyone followed the Central Bank’s lead, preferring to sit tight until the policy position, with the change of guard at the Central Bank, where Eyob Tekalegn (PhD) replaced Mamo Mihretu, became clearer.

Throughout the week, the official forex market traded in a narrow, almost choreographed corridor. Buying quotes remained above 141 Br to the dollar; selling rates were almost universally two Birr higher. The forex movement was too low. For five straight days, prices barely twitched, giving banks neither room nor incentive to truly discover rates on their own.

However, two breaks in that stillness offered telling insights.

Mid-week, the Central Bank trimmed its reference rate, signalling downward pressure. Meanwhile, Amhara Bank surged ahead, leapfrogging Oromia Bank to post the market’s highest quotes. The combination revealed the outlines of a managed, not free, market, with enough space left for occasional skirmishes among banks.

The rest of the field remained largely inert. Abay, Awash, Bank of Abyssinia (BoA), Bunna, and Nib nudged quotes by mere tenths of a Birr. A larger bloc, including Ahadu, Oromia, and Zemen, held their ground for all five days. The state-owned Commercial Bank of Ethiopia (CBE), the market’s lodestar, kept its buying rate at 138.74 Br and its selling rate at 141.52 Br, providing both a floor and a dependable benchmark around which others clustered.

Spreads told a similar tale. Since the float, the two-percent margin has become a quiet rule of the road. Nine in 10 banks stuck to it last week. One exception was Co-operative Bank of Oromia (Coop Bank), which briefly dipped to a 1.78pc spread before reverting, possibly testing the waters or responding to tactical pressures. More intriguing was the Central Bank’s own behaviour. Its mid-week compression of the spread, followed by a partial widening, seemed not accidental but deliberate, and a signal, not a slip.

That policy probe reached a crescendo Friday, when Amhara Bank broke from the pack with a buying rate of 145 Br and a selling rate of 147.9 Br, displacing Oromia Bank and sitting 3.49 Br above the market’s average buying rate. In a week where most banks traded inside a 141 Br and 142 Br buying corridor and a 143 Br and 145 Br selling range, Amhara Bank’s rates were an outlier, a bold play for travel and remittance flows.

Despite these flashes of competition, the market remains tightly choreographed. The average buying rate was near 141.5 Br and the selling average around 143.5 Br, with fluctuations measured in hundredths of a Birr. The extremes where the CBE posted the week’s lowest rates of 138.74 Br buying and 141.52 Br selling, while Amhara’s quotes set the ceiling, told the full story.

This tight band is no accident. It unveiled a market architecture that, despite the float, remains under close watch. Regulatory guidance, risk constraints, and rates at the parallel market still shape banks’ behaviour. The rule of thumb is evidently clear by now. Banks have to keep the spread at two percent, stay close to the Central Bank’s weighted average, and avoid actions that might stress liquidity.

CBE’s static quotes reinforce this discipline. Its immobility functions as a market stabiliser. Refusing to chase rates reduces volatility and dampens the incentives for undercutting. CBE serves as a bulwark against disorderly pricing.

However, the Central Bank’s mid-week intervention did not appear to be a simple technical adjustment. It could be a strategic move, dragging the market lower without forcing commercial banks to lead. Narrowing the spread removed arbitrage opportunities and speculative inventory play. By the end of the week, with the spread widened again but the rate level held down, the policy goal seemed to be achieved.

Market watchers could draw three key conclusions that the float is not a plunge into volatility but a slow glide under supervision; banks like Amhara Bank may push rates when the reward justifies the risk, but most remain cautious; and, more interventions are likely whenever the Brewed Buck strays from the policy corridor. Central Bank officials seem committed to a controlled depreciation path, with visible markers and occasional adjustments to shape expectations.

Commercial banks, meanwhile, will play along, stepping out only when demand surges, then retreating when the risks outweigh the rewards.

The forex currency regime is neither entirely free nor firmly fixed. It is something in between where it is supervised, signalled, and intentionally steady. Last week offered a case study in how that hybrid system of tight corridors, a public anchor in CBE, an engaged referee at the Central Bank, and enough elbow room for banks works. Unless macroeconomic fundamentals shift dramatically, the Brewed Buck’s near-term trajectory appears locked into a familiar rhythm of deliberate and measured drift, marked by calibrated calm.

Exam Policy Fails the Test of Justice, Deepening Inequality, Disillusion

Four years into an experiment with “shock therapy” in education, the national mood has shifted from hope to a more sobering reckoning. The administration’s radical new approach to secondary-school exams, conceived as a cure for systemic rot, has laid bare the depth of the crisis. Education authorities have adopted a drastic measure to address cheating in the school system. Since 2021, every secondary-school candidate has been transported to a university campus, sometimes kilometres from home, to sit national exams watched by unfamiliar invigilators and unblinking cameras.

The scheme, driven by Berhanu Nega, a professor-turned-education minister, seeks to sever the cosy ties among students, teachers and local officials that allowed answer sheets to circulate like currency. In a country where a paper qualification is still seen as a ticket out of poverty, stamping out cheating promised to restore faith in merit and signal that Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed’s Administration will not tolerate the skulduggery that once made national results a national joke.

The decay that inspired such theatre was real. Years of leaked papers, whispered bribes, and lax marking had drained the meaning from exam scores. Universities complained of first-year students who struggled to write a coherent paragraph. Ask any employer, and they would affirm that degrees have become worthless. Education policymakers concluded that only shock therapy could rebuild trust. Their prescription is brutal and messy, yet unavoidable. They had hoped that computer screens, sealed envelopes and remote venues would make dishonesty not merely risky but futile.

Four exam cycles later, the treatment has exposed the illness more shockingly than ever. Nearly three million pupils have sat the re-engineered tests. Fewer than one in 10 managed to score above 50pc. During the 2024 sitting, 42.8pc of the 3,106 schools that entered candidates produced no pass, while thousands of other schools saw every hopeful fail. Berhanu and his team have moved the goalposts only to discover how few strikers they have possessed.

This year, about 95pc of candidates fell short of the threshold for a state-funded place, shattering the ladder that many families had counted on to climb into the middle class. Among the 134,000 students who took the new online papers, lauded for preventing leaks and enabling instant marking, only 21.7pc squeaked through. What was meant to defend merit now reveals a harsher truth of an education system that is unable to impart the knowledge that merit requires.

Anyone who visits a typical public school sees the reasons. For decades, officials prioritised enrollment over achievement; classrooms are packed, textbooks scarce, and buildings are cracked. Lessons rely on rote learning, which is useful for recalling answers, but hopeless for grasping a concept. Head-teachers, pressed to show progress, long ago embraced generous grading. Parents mistook flattering report cards for genuine learning until the new exams exposed their children’s frailties.

The deficits start early and widen. Fewer than two-thirds of the 35.4 million school-aged youngsters are enrolled. Close to 12.5 million receive no schooling whatsoever due to conflict and displacement. Conflict-hit regional states keep almost half their children at home. National surveys find that nine in 10 ten-year-olds cannot read a simple sentence. Electricity, desks and even chalk are luxuries in thousands of classrooms.

A cleaner exam cannot brighten a room lit only by a cracked window and staffed by an under-qualified teacher.

Inequality, once muffled by inflated grades, now glares under the harsh light of “honest” marking. Boarding schools flush with resources boast pass rates of 71pc, while well-funded community institutions manage 51pc. Most public schools, urban and rural alike, floundered. Even two-thirds of candidates from private academies failed the latest exam, showing that fees cannot paper over systemic weakness. For rural students, the ordeal begins before dawn, with hours on dusty roads, borrowed bus fare and a night on a stranger’s dormitory floor before a test that will likely dash their hopes.

Supporters of the crackdown insist that discomfort is precisely the point. By exposing the ugly truth, they say, the policy forces schools to change. The Education Minister cites “encouraging trends”, noting that the share of genuinely earned scores is creeping up, even if the absolute numbers remain grim. His Ministry predicts that teachers will adjust their methods, students will raise their effort, and pass rates will climb.

Targets have been set. Within three years, 15pc to 20pc of candidates should succeed. That is a low bar, but still a steep climb from today.

Critics retort that Berhanu and his ilk have confused policing with pedagogy. Laboratories, libraries, and support centres promised in glossy policy blueprints remain dreams. Efforts to equip schools with practical equipment have stalled due to limited budgets and bureaucratic hurdles. Teacher training lags behind the standards officials demand. Many instructors lack advanced degrees or regular refresher courses. Yet students face uncompromising scrutiny. The result, sceptics warn, is a punitive classroom that judges children for failings rooted far upstream.

Digitisation was meant to guarantee probity; instead, it often magnifies hardship. Teenagers take high-stakes tests on unfamiliar tablets in halls where electricity or internet access is unreliable. Servers crash, power cuts strike, and screens freeze while the countdown clock ticks. Rural families scrape together travel money only to confront logistical chaos and, by many accounts, indifferent invigilators. Stress piles atop the disadvantage already baked into years of threadbare schooling.

The mismatch between what schools teach and what employers need is widening. The curriculum leans heavily on theory, while practical skills, vocational, and digital literacy lag quite behind. Youth unemployment is high, the formal industry meagre and farm life increasingly unappealing. Graduates emerge over-examined and under-prepared, funnelling into informal jobs or migrating abroad. A tamper-proof exam cannot conjure opportunity when the wider economy offers little.

However, education officials insist their shock therapy will pay dividends. They speak of harnessing exam data to target resources, tethering teacher promotions to pupil outcomes and corralling donors to build the missing labs. Yet the treasury’s coffers are thin, and parents’ patience is thinner still. Teachers need salaries that keep them in classrooms, not encourage them to moonlight. Schools need stocked libraries, working science kits and reliable power, not official slogans.

The past three years have shown that honesty, though indispensable, is not enough. Without good teaching, sound materials and decent facilities, control becomes a mere spectacle and slams yet another door in the face of aspiration. The danger is not only the loss of a cohort. It is the creeping doubt that schooling can deliver progress at all, a risk no country, least of all one as youthful and ambitious as Ethiopia, can afford.

Addis Abeba’s Transport Gridlock Wears Commuters Thin

Crowds swell before dawn at some of Addis Abeba’s busiest intersections, and the tension hangs in the cool air long before the sun has fully risen.

Around Haile Garment Roundabout, Saris Abo, and Adey Abeba, passengers jostle for position where curbs give way to makeshift taxi stands. When evening falls, congestion migrates to the Saris and Bole areas, especially the stretch near the Skylight Hotel, located in front of the airport cargo terminal. There, Lines snake well beyond the sidewalk as a sea of commuters waits not for automobiles, but for the slim chance of securing a seat.

Order, when it emerges, vanishes as quickly, and the wait often drags past an hour.

Few know the frustration better than courier Mulugeta Teshome. On a recent weekday, he got up at 11:30am, reached Haile Garment by 1:00pm, and promptly received a 100 Br fine after stepping outside a pedestrian lane.

“My friend paid 150 Br for wearing earphones,” he said.

Worse awaited him. Taxis were scarce, and the only public bus to Megenagna arrived after he had waited another hour. Mulugeta, who frequently travels between Mexico Square and Megenagna, now spends more than an hour each morning finding a ride out of Haile Garment.

“I wake up early, but there is no taxi,” he said. “It’s a mass.”

Since schools reopened, the routine journey that once took about an hour now consumes two.

“At night, sometimes we pay double, other days it’s normal, or sometimes they add a fee,” Mulugeta told Fortune. “Taxi prohibition is unnecessary. We should be able to get our choices on time.”

Mekdes Mola, a mother of three, shared Mulugeta’s exasperation. She spends 1,000 Br each month for her two children’s dedicated seat in a student service, occasionally receiving priority herself because a child in uniform accompanies her. Although her office and her children’s school sit side by side in the Bole neighbourhood, she increasingly arrives late. Her managers have noticed.

“Getting transportation is a crowded mess,” she said. “If my son arrives before me, I’ve to pick him up later. I ask myself, ‘Is transportation a luxury?’ ”

The cost, she insisted, is less troubling than the time she loses each day. The fundamental flaw for her is the city’s “mass transport system,” which caps fares but inadvertently keeps taxis out of high-demand districts.

Negash Molito, whom works for an insurance company in 22 area travels along Debre Zeit Road and knows the drill so well that he stood last week in the Saris Abo queue beneath a handbook he held aloft to block the sun. Since September’s school reopening, he has traded the predictable commute of old for a gauntlet of long lines and half-empty taxis afraid to stop where traffic controllers loom.

“Most of the time, my transport is with those who simply pass by,” he said. “We’ve no choice, unlike people elsewhere.”

On some mornings, a few hardy commuters gather as early as 3:00am to beat the rush, leaving the queue still lengthy when others arrive at first light. At times, officials from the city’s transport bureau intervene, ordering taxis and privately owned three-wheelers to take reluctant passengers on board.

“The authorities have to provide a solution, either through mass transit or taxis,” Negash said. “This place has always been like this, not now.”

Student traffic has turned driving itself into a headache. Drivers on the Megenagna-Mexico route grow weary of the conflicts over pick-up points, route sign changing fees, and other fare hikes that can reach 2,000 Br a month for some routes.

Nahom Mengistu, a Tiger Bus driver, believes staff operating the dedicated student lines enjoy a steadier income, but he is convinced that terminal-based service could still thrive if managed well.

The job of smoothing these bottlenecks falls partly to individuals like Samuel Teshale and his 13-member crew working on the Saris taxi Terminal. Samuel scanned the crowd outside his booth and counted double rows of passengers edging forward inch by inch. Forty-three taxis serve Saris, yet Samuel saw that the supply never catches up with demand. Mornings move marginally faster, but evenings can trap commuters for an hour or more.

For him, the other contributing factor is the lack of a terminal.

“If there were one, congestion could be managed because taxis could be controlled,” he told Fortune.

Samuel calls the city transport bureau almost daily for spare vehicles; sometimes relief arrives, sometimes it does not. Often, police officers step in, forcing idle private cars to load passengers when shortages become acute. According to Birzegen Girma, a transport controller stationed nearby, conditions deteriorated the moment students returned to class.

“In the past, streets were full of taxis,” she said. “Now, they’re full of passengers. Many cars are moving at the same time, but they’re empty.”

Her supervisors instructed her to prioritise students during the morning rush, though at night the policy loosens. Some drivers dodge their assigned routes, wary of incurring hefty fines should they be caught straying by traffic officers. Saris feeds destinations ranging from Garment and Sefera to Lafto, Bulbula, Aqaqi, Gelan, and Koye, but the taxi count remains far below what would be needed to satisfy such a broad map.

“It’s very crowded here,” said Birzegen. “We need more transportation providers.”

That would be drivers like Abraham Tadesse, who operates a Lonchin micro-van on the route from Qality to Piassa. After shuttling students in the morning, he works straight through until 9:00am, caused by the unavoidable morning traffic jam, a schedule that barely scratches the demand. He blames a jumble of regulations, chief among them a taxi prohibition in congested zones and limits on operating outside pre-approved routes. He recalled the time he was able to pick up a passenger at 7:00am, which was 9:00a.m. last week.

Traffic jam on weekdays slows his trips to a crawl, taxing the patience of riders already fatigued by long waits. The price of ferrying students now varies widely by vehicle type, such as Lonchins and “Obama” minibuses, which generate anywhere from 40,000 Br to 100,000 Br a month of service for their drivers.

For leaders of Taxi owners’ associations, these are revenues that only allude to the struggle. They blame a 30 Br jump a litre at gas pumps, an expense that slices into every fare. The city’s Transport Bureau imposed a 500 Br fee per vehicle to change the destination indicator, a sign that costs squeeze operators from all directions. Spare-part shortages crippled service, forcing operators to scavenge and improvise machinery parts to keep ageing buses on the road.

Higer buses do help, carrying as many as 45 passengers per trip during rush hour. Yet, the fleet cannot keep pace with the capital’s swelling population.

Association leaders, such as Nuredin Ditamo, head of Nib Taxi S.C., with over 250 members, and Hailemichael Haile, a board member of the Nigal Hayger Bus Owners Association, attributed repeated penalties for dwindling fleets on the streets.

“The people who drafted the rules aren’t driving,” said Hailemichael, who saw 500 feelyts under his association dropped by 90 in recent months. “They underestimate the hit drivers take each time they are fined or required to idle in traffic.”

Officials from the city’s Transport Bureau insisted they were prepared for this year’s school rush, but they met with mixed results at best. The Bureau Head, Yabibal Addis, hopes that staggered school hours will ease the worst bottlenecks. With approximately 4,000 blue-and-white taxis and an additional 6,000 support taxis serving a metro area of nearly five million (according to city administration official data), the city transports roughly 1.4 million students and several hundred thousand public servants each weekday.

School zones, meanwhile, have become increasingly accident-prone, raising safety alarms alongside the congested roads. The cost is more than lost patience. It also undermines productivity, inflates costs for businesses, and saps the city’s competitive edge.

According to multiple studies, including a new research by a trio from Addis Abeba University’s College of Development Studies, and official reports, traffic congestion in Addis Abeba exacts a direct annual toll of between 696.6 million Br and 806.3 million Br. The researchers, Semen Bekele, Dawit Diriba, and Shimeles Damene, examined nine road segments and sampled 3,240 participants, discovering that time wasted on the roads accounts for 74pc of this cost, compared to unreliability (20pc) and fuel (six percent).

Some corridor-level studies put the figure even higher. One notorious choke point, the Kolfe District 18-Compressive Road, alone racks up 274.2 million Br in lost economic value each year. Researchers estimate that congestion drains as much as three percent from the GDP, a loss of up to 186 billion Birr annually.

Urban planners attribute the issue to a toxic combination of rapid population growth, underinvestment in infrastructure, and inadequate integration of public transportation systems. Meanwhile, Addis Abeba’s much-vaunted light rail system, once hailed as a solution, has become emblematic of the problem. Only half the trains are operational. The rest stand idle for lack of maintenance, offering commuters little respite from the gridlock above ground.

Officials acknowledge the crisis but face a daunting investment gap. The city estimates it needs half a trillion Birr over the next decade to expand and modernise its roadways, dwarfing the current annual allocation of 11.6 billion Br.

Anbesa and Sheger Bus services, staffed in yellow-red and blue uniforms respectively, have taken on the longest lines, and a private import of 100 green electric buses from Belay AB Motors offers a glimmer of relief. Nonetheless, further expansion depends on final approval from the city administration. To plug gaps, the Transport Bureau has instructed the associations to reinstate sidelined vehicles on the road and banned overloading of students.

Even so, Yabibal conceded that enforcement of taxi tariffs and operating zones remains difficult.

“We want the public to use mass transportation,” he told Fortune. “We’ve no choice.”

Disputes between transport officials in Addis Abeba and neighbouring Sheger City complicate coordination. The federal Ministry of Transport & Logistics is now working with regional bureaus to standardise tariffs and prevent cross-border squabbles.

Urban-mobility scholars, such as Abiy Alene, who teaches at Kotebe Metropolitan College, see deeper structural flaws. They argue that high-capacity trucks hauling construction materials clog key arterials when they roam at will.

“Trucks must operate on time without using rush hours indiscriminately,” Abiy told Fortune.

He applauded the city’s tentative embrace of mass transit, but warned it cannot rely on buses alone.

“It needs full implementation,” he said, calling for dedicated rapid-bus corridors, more mass-transit providers, and an overhaul of the rail network.

According to Belete Ejigu (PhD), a lecturer at the Civil Service University, studies on emerging metro systems are being conducted worldwide. He cited Nairobi’s staggered school hours and New Delhi’s extensive school-bus network as possible templates. He favours safe loading zones akin to those in Singapore or Bogotá, combined with a nationwide cashless fare system modelled on Kenya’s. For public transit to thrive, Belete believes integrating taxis and buses under a single payment scheme similar to Cape Town’s.

Abiy named congestion, outdated roads, poor modal coordination, and lax enforcement among the capital’s biggest weaknesses. He also urged policymakers to think multimodally and prioritise walking and cycling in tandem with strict law enforcement.

If the reforms sound ambitious, commuters like Mulugeta and Mekdes view them as long overdue. Each cold morning, they file into lines that no longer shock them, clutching small change as insurance against sudden fare hikes or traffic fines. They do so knowing that even as Addis Abeba builds electric-bus fleets and rewrites taxi codes, the city’s streets will awaken to the same chorus the next day. Hundreds of thousands of voices are asking, sometimes pleading, for a seat that may never come in time.

Unity University Hikes Tuition Fee, Students Push Back

Unity University has increased tuition fees sharply, jolting students and families alike, drawing criticism for what many consider a poorly communicated and abrupt financial burden.

For some, fees have more than doubled in a single semester, triggering protests, raising concerns about the transparency of private university operations, and laying bare the economic precarity facing the middle class.

“The new fees are almost double and more,” said Anania Girma, a fourth-year computer science student. “Where are families supposed to get this money? We aren’t money printers.”

The fee adjustment arrives at a time when private universities and colleges across the country are wrestling with increased regulatory scrutiny and operational costs, primarily driven by the federal government’s new directive governing licensing re-registration. Unity University’s leadership defends the decision, insisting it was the result of months-long internal consultations and a sober assessment of fiscal realities.

Anania’s tuition jumped to 30,300 Br this semester, a figure that exceeds half of what he paid cumulatively over the previous three years. The breakdown of the increase includes a 1,000 Br lab fee, despite claims that students rarely use these facilities.

“I use my own PC,” he said, questioning the value of such charges.

Aregaw Yirdaw (PhD), president and CEO of the University, assured students and their families that “No one should pay for a service that is never used.”

However, he defended the added fee, attributing it to a facility that has undergone substantial improvement.

“Our lab is now well done,” he told Fortune.

Meron Million, an architecture student, one of the six undergraduate programs the University offers, saw her per-contact hour fees rise to 898 Br, pushing her semester total to 28,000 Br. Like many others, she was not officially notified through traditional channels.

“They don’t tell us there will be additional fees,” she said. “We used to get payment slips. Now we don’t.”

A marketing student, Abel Tollosa echoed similar sentiments.

“They never told us,” he told Fortune. “That’s why we were surprised by the fee.”

The students’ frustration is not only about the financial squeeze but also the lack of procedural clarity. Several of them say they only became aware of the new charges after logging into the University website, without any prior announcement through official channels.

For Arega, the latest fee increase is “rational and justified.” He attributed them to rising operational costs and new compliance demands from federal regulators.

“We made this after a three-month discussion,” Arega told Fortune. “All things come after that. We consider our expenses, our income, and also the students.”

Arega stated that no student is being charged arbitrarily, and that an explanation accompanies each notification of an increase.

“For those who came  showing letter of increase, we informed them about all the procedures,” he said.

He also pointed to Unity University’s scholarship fund, which, according to him, is often overlooked in these debates.

“We don’t just increase fees because we can,” he said. “We are taxpayers, too.”

Unity University, a pioneering private higher education institution, has marked more than three decades of expansion and transformation in the tightly regulated academic sector. Established in 1991 as a modest language school serving a handful of students, Unity has evolved into a multi-campus university enrolling over 16,000 students. Its path has been symbolic of the wider liberalisation in the education sector, with the institution introducing degree and postgraduate programs long before many of its private sector peers, and setting a precedent for others to follow.

In 2008, it was acquired by MIDROC Technology Group, the business empire of Mohammed Amoudi (Sheikh). This enabled Unity to invest in new campuses, now numbered five, launch master’s degrees in business and development economics, and expand its reach into cities such as Adama and Dessie. Arega, CEO of MIDROC Technology Group at the time of acquiring Unity, is credited for steering the University, which employess over 800 staff, through periods of both heady optimism and regulatory pressure.

Unity University is ranked 14th among local universities, according to public listings by uniRank.org, and its research output remains modest compared to that of its long-established public counterparts.

According to an official from the Education & Training Authority (ETA), who requested anonymity, the education sector operates in an “open market” where tuition pricing is the prerogative of individual institutions, not the government.

“We control the quality of education, not the cost,” the official said.

Under the new directive introduced in 2024, private higher education institutions should comply with stricter standards or face potential license revocation. They have been given six months to come into compliance with the regulations. Failure to do so could result in closure. The new requirements are expected to impact several areas, from infrastructure standards to academic staffing ratios, pressuring institutions like Unity University to invest heavily over a short period.

Tesfaye Lega, a former president of the now closed Kunuz College and a researcher in higher education policy, views the issue as systemic.

“Fees do not measure education quality,” he said. “It’s by the way you provide education, not by the price.”

He obserevd many private education institutions taking the risk of being priced out of the market, not by competitors, but by regulatory and compliance burdens.

“Not all private universities or colleges will continue with the current credit hours,” he said. “They aren’t immune to closure.”

According to Tesfaye, tax deductions or direct institutional support could help mitigate the risk of alienating thousands of students from private education.

“Increasing material costs and reforms are contributors to this,” he told Fortune. “But communication should improve.”

For many parents and guardians, the tuition increase is more than a financial challenge.

Temesgen Alemu, a construction worker who supports his wife and sister at Unity, has his fee ballooned past 50,000 Br a semester, up from 35,000 Br.

“They were frustrated to tell me the first time,” he recalled. “But they had no other choice.”

Temesgen argued that higher education institutions should do more to communicate fee changes well in advance, allowing families to plan.

“This is distorting our pockets and our plans,” he said.

Some students have begun to voice their grievances, demanding transparency, itemised fee structures, and more meaningful representation through student unions. They argue that trust between the administration and students has eroded, and unless the University leadership offers clear justifications, the institution’s credibility is at stake.

Commodity Exchange Struggles to Hold Ground as Direct Trade Surges

Seventeen years after its inception as a flagship market reform for agricultural modernisation, the Ethiopian Commodity Exchange (ECX) is wrestling with a crisis of fade in practicality.

Once hailed for bringing price transparency, contract enforcement, and traceability to the notoriously opaque domestic agricultural markets, the Exchange now finds itself increasingly bypassed by stakeholders embracing vertical integration and direct trade. The ECX met only 55pc of its planned volume targets in the past fiscal year, a grim indicator of waning business activity.

While it facilitated 27.3 billion Br in trades across 115,739 metric tons of agricultural products, the volume of commodities traded fell by nearly 50pc, uncovering not merely digital adaptation challenges but a systemic realignment in how agricultural commodities change hands. The Exchange’s cumulative historical performance, with 420 billion Br in transactions and 20 billion Br in tax collection, mirrors past achievements rather than present momentum.

The divergence revealed that institutional inertia may be impeding ECX’s ability to adapt quickly to a rapidly transforming trade architecture.

Much of this shift can be traced to the rise of vertical integration. The approach enables exporters to purchase directly from farmers and suppliers, thereby bypassing intermediaries and the ECX altogether. Supporters say it shortens supply chains, increases transparency, and boosts producer earnings. The numbers back them up.

In 2023, more than 90pc of the 1.3 billion dollars in coffee export revenue came through vertical integration deals. The coffee sector has been a notable beneficiary, with cultivated land for coffee expanding from 756,000hct to 1.1 million hectares over four years. The surge has been driven by direct linkages between farmers and exporters. In only six months, over 6,000 direct contracts were signed, resulting in the shipment of 133,000tns of coffee overseas.

The Exchange has responded by broadening its own product range. Six new commodities, including teff and beer malt, have been added to the Exchange, bringing the total to 28. However, the trend remained clear.

“Since the Ministry of Trade permitted alternative trading last year, traders have increasingly shifted away from the Exchange,” Mergia Bayissa, CEO of the ECX, told Fortune.

The challenge for Mergia and his senior executives is to adapt and win back business. According to Dawit Mura, head of communications, the Exchange plans to research to attract traders. One key strategy is the development of a new online platform.

“Trading on ECX was mandatory for over a decade,” Dawit told Fortune, noting that the Exchange supports alternative trading pathways and intends to compete with other methods. “We’re studying ways to make trading easier.”

Dawit disclosed that once this research is approved, the Exchange plans to double its trade volumes.

Despite the setbacks, ECX’s price performance remains solid, with commodity prices on the Exchange reaching 99pc of planned targets. Dawit attributed this to the interaction of supply and demand and recent price increases, while noting that both international trends and seasonal changes continue to sway local prices.

Amid all these changes, the ECX, whose board is chaired by Kassahun Gofe, minister of Trade & Regional Integration (MTRI), is also making a bold bet on its future. It is building a 36-story headquarters near the Federal Housing Corporation headquarters, near La Gare, a project with a total investment of 5.1 billion Br. The building is expected to become a hub for Africa and a centre of excellence for commodity trading. It is planned to be constructed in two phases, with the first phase set for completion next year. The tower will occupy 2,043Sqm on a plot of 3,599Sqm and is being financed through ECX’s income and bank loans.

Dawit disclosed that the new headquarters will help reduce rental pressure from current commercial spaces, especially once the first five floors are completed. The ECX has been housed in Alsam Cheleleka Tower on Chad St., owned by the Saber Argaw family.

But not everyone in the sector is enthusiastic about the Exchange. Associations and exporters have voiced longstanding concerns. According to Edao Abdi, president of the Oil Seeds & Pulses Association, the ECX continues to struggle with quality control. He cited frequent cases where commodities purchased through the Exchange do not meet promised standards, with old and new crops mixed together, resulting in costly rejections.

“It’s costing our customers a substantial amount of money,” Edao told Fortune.

He recalled a recent incident in which a client from China received tainted goods instead of an 83,000-dollar shipment. He called for an ethical code of conduct to crack down on untrustworthy traders.

Exporters are also feeling the impact of price volatility. According to Edao, the price of a quintal of white soybean has soared from 7,000 Br last year to 17,000 Br this year, a 143pc increase that has eaten into profits. Exporters still face unresolved loan issues, and due to currency depreciation, their revenues may not accurately reflect their actual value in local terms. According to Edao, many exporters now prefer vertical integration and contract farming over ECX.

Others in the industry such as Biniyam Teklay, an exporter at Bazen Enterprise, share similar grievances. He cited logistical hurdles and security concerns in some regions.

“Centralised delivery in Addis Abeba is more practical under vertical farming arrangements,” he told Fortune.

He echoed Edao’s voice, stating that quality problems persist, including crop mixing and inconsistent origin tracking, which have prompted his company to consider vertical integration. Biniyam was critical of MoTRI’s pricing mechanism, arguing that it lags behind international markets, sometimes by months. He pointed to the example of sesame production in Brazil, driving down global prices.

“The Ethiopian market only adjusted after three months of overpayment for exports,” he said.

The complaint extends to the fundamentals of ECX’s value proposition. Investment consultant and international trade adviser Sani Tuke, who works for Saniya Business Development & Consulting, described the Exchange as a platform that benefits intermediaries more than farmers.

“Premium profits for brokers often exceed those for producers,” Sani said.

He blamed inefficiencies, especially in sesame trading, where a single broker could pocket up to 700 Br a quintal. Sani recommended that the Exchange focus on facilitating logistics and delegate quality control to public authorities such as the Agriculture Authority or the Coffee & Tea Authority.

Construction Authority Rolls Out Licensing Regime for Elevator Indus-try

The elevator industry is bracing for sweeping reforms as construction regulators are to impose the first comprehensive licensing and inspection regime on companies installing, maintaining, and inspecting lifts and escalators.

A draft directive, tabled by the Ethiopian Construction Authority, is set to change how the industry operates in one of the fastest-growing urban landscapes.

For the first time, every business involved in the elevator trade, from installation to servicing to safety inspection, will be required to secure operating licenses and certificates of competence. Regulators say the rules are designed to enforce rigorous safety standards and eliminate fly-by-night operators in a market that has remained largely unregulated, despite rapid urban growth.

Construction authorities are pushing for the creation of legally authorised elevator safety inspection companies, certified by them. They will carry the sole responsibility for inspecting elevators and issuing the clearance reports that determine whether systems remain in operation. To qualify, they are required to get certificates of competence. The directive forbids inspection firms from any affiliation with companies that design, produce, install, or repair elevators to prevent conflicts of interest. Their only role will be to verify safety and compliance, with certified professionals conducting inspections to determine whether elevators remain in service.

However, the rules go further than mandating licenses. Elevator companies will have to employ trained engineers, technicians, installers, and inspectors with clearly defined roles. Their work will extend beyond installation to include design, maintenance, and emergency response in the event that passengers become trapped. Mechanical, electrical, structural, and control engineers will focus on specialised components, from motors and wiring to shafts and software.

Installers and technicians will handle physical assembly, while maintenance crews will be on call to keep elevators running and respond to emergencies. Quality controllers will test systems against safety standards, with project managers overseeing work from planning to final delivery.

The directive introduces a tiered classification system linking a company’s financial resources, staffing, and equipment standards to the complexity of projects it can handle. Firms with tens of millions of Birr in capital, experienced engineering teams, and advanced testing equipment will qualify for projects such as high-rise towers, hospitals, and emergency systems. Mid-tier contractors will be limited to commercial centres, public buildings, and mid-rise housing, while smaller firms will handle low-rise projects.

Regulators say this grading structure balances public safety with industry growth, preventing inexperienced or undercapitalised firms from taking on projects beyond their capacity.

“Elevators need regulation and regular inspection,” said Meaza Gebre Abizigi from the Authority’s Code & Standards Department. “There should be an independent body responsible for this.”

She likened the inspections to annual vehicle roadworthiness checks, stating that elevators will undergo routine evaluations to stay in service. Imported elevators will also be screened to verify compliance with the standards required of assemblers and maintenance firms.

The rules are arriving in a country where elevator accidents remain rare but occasionally deadly. The Addis Abeba Risk and Disaster Management Office reported three deaths in 2022, including a visually impaired man in Qality District and another near the National Theatre. In March this year, an elevator near Urael Church plunged from the seventh floor with 14 people inside. Popular singer Abdu Kiyar broke his leg in another incident, stirring debate about neglected maintenance and weak oversight.

International comparisons demonstrate the stakes. The Gitnux Elevator Death Statistics Report for 2025 puts the risk of dying in an elevator accident at about one in 10 million rides. In the United States, four people die each year in elevator-related accidents, with maintenance workers accounting for 60pc of fatalities. The most common causes (falls, crushing incidents, and door malfunctions) make up a quarter of all elevator injuries and deaths.

Fatalities occur more often in developing countries, where ageing infrastructure and weak oversight amplify risks.

Addis Abeba alone has more than 52,000 multi-story buildings, many equipped with ageing or poorly maintained elevators. Frequent power cuts and cost-cutting by developers compound the risks.

Industry veterans view the directive as an opportunity to raise standards in a market long dominated by inexpensive and low-quality imports. Shobole Engineering, a company founded in 2010 by Abdulfeta Abdela Shobole (PhD), has installed elevators for Ethiopian Airlines, the African Union (AU), Zewditu Hospital, and the National Defence complex. According to Abdulfeta, stricter rules could help professional firms like his compete fairly.

“The market is flooded with cheap and substandard elevators,” he told Fortune. “This regulation will give companies like ours an edge.”

He compared elevators to autonomous vehicles; both require routine inspections and maintenance to protect people and property. Poor-quality units, he said, compromise building standards and saddle owners with long-term costs.

Engineers working for Shobole Engineering have encountered elevators that are stranded between floors or entirely out of service during renovation projects. According to Abdulfeta, modern systems should be able to move to the nearest floor and open during power outages, but many elevators here lack this feature or have malfunctioning components.

Not everyone in the industry welcomes the directive. An engineer at a private assembly firm, speaking anonymously, dismissed the new rules as “largely formal,” questioning whether regulators had the expertise or capacity to enforce them effectively. Without specialised knowledge, he warned, the directive could amount to paperwork rather than meaningful oversight.

Abebe Dinku (Prof.), a veteran of the construction sector and a reputable academic, sees both promise and pitfalls. He supports the directive as a long-overdue reform in a market where nearly all elevators are imported, mostly from China, with only one locally assembled unit to date. Installation is often outsourced, and service providers cover maintenance only for the first year. After that, many elevators operate without proper oversight.

Abebe argued that the directive could improve building standards, but warned developers against cutting corners to save money.

“Expensive is cheaper in this case,” he said, noting that quality equipment, though costly upfront, reduces risks and long-term expenses.

He also raised concerns about the shortage of qualified inspectors, urging construction authorities to set up academic departments dedicated to elevator technology. Such programs, he urged, should offer specialised training and conduct nationwide surveys to measure the scale and condition of elevator systems across Ethiopia.

Ethiopia’s regulators hope the new rules will bring local practices closer to global standards. Among Professor Abebe’s suggestions is a requirement for inspection certificates to be displayed inside elevators, similar to norms abroad, so passengers know whether a system has passed safety checks.

Customs Commission Unshackles Container Deposits

The Ethiopian Customs Commission (ECC) has ended its long-standing policy requiring importers to lodge large cash deposits or financial guarantees before moving shipping containers from ports into the country, replacing the rule with a simpler system based on letters of guarantee.

The change, which took effect last week with a circular signed by Commissioner Debele Kabeta and sent to all customs branches, marks a notable shift for importers, who have described the former rules as burdensome and outdated.

For years, the Commission insisted on up-front financial securities, arguing that such measures were necessary to ensure containers, technically considered “goods,” were returned after unloading. Since containers are classified as temporary imports, no duties are paid on them. The deposit policy, in theory, safeguards against misuse and delays. In practice, however, it immobilised millions in working capital, was applied unevenly across branches, and created frustration and confusion among importers.

Officials now hope the new approach will remove some of those obstacles. Letters of guarantee, they argue, will allow the Commission to maintain oversight of container returns while freeing up cash that importers can use for customs duties, taxes, or business operations.

“The previous procedure created unnecessary complications,” said Yonas Teklewold, head of the Customs Operations Division. “Containers are not commodities, but equipment. Locking up cash on this end only hurts business.”

The main challenge for customs has always been late returns. Importers have a 15-day window to unload cargo and send containers back, but many struggle to meet the deadline due to logistical issues, transportation bottlenecks, and unforeseen costs. Under the revised rules, the Commission would enforce penalties for late returns, but would no longer hold deposits upfront.

“With the new system, importers and the Commission agree through a letter of guarantee on the container’s return,” Yonas said. “It eases the pressure without sacrificing accountability.”

The change applies to unimodal shipping, where containers are moved under a single shipping document. Importers using the Ethiopian Shipping & Logistics (ESL) for multimodal services still have to put up cash guarantees. The national liner requires a deposit of 100,000 Br for a 20-foot container and 200,000 Br for a 40-foot unit. If importers miss the deadline, fines start at six-dollar per day for a 20-foot container and eleven dollars for a 40-foot container after the grace period, rising to more than 38 dollars daily if the delay stretches beyond two months.

According to Dereje Ketema, division manager for ESL’s Europe and Africa trade routes, the company is considering similar changes to scrap the cash deposit requirement.

“We want to strike a balance between ensuring containers return and easing importers’ financial stress,” he said.

The company handled 437,241 containers (TEU) in the three quarters of 2024/25, while 22,400 TEU were locally packed for exports during the same period of the previous year. The Douraleh Container Terminal in Djibouti registered a record-breaking performance of exceeding 1.2 million containers in 2024. Close to 95pc of Ethiopia’s external trade passes through ports in Djibouti.

The Commission’s decision has been welcomed by many importers who see it as a much-needed fix to a long-standing problem that drained liquidity and slowed business.

“This is a big relief,” said Michael Mekonnen, CEO of Menkem International Business Plc. “When handling large volumes, the required deposits ran into millions of Birr. It restricted the cash we needed for taxes or operations. Recovering deposits was slow and complicated. This change allows us to focus on business rather than bureaucracy.”

The financial impact of the old system was sometimes overwhelming. Anwar Edris, a construction materials importer, recalled depositing 800,000 Br for four containers at Mojo Dry Port.

“That kind of money could have gone directly to duties and taxes,” he said. “The new policy finally acknowledges the reality of how much this weighed on us.”

However, Anwar argued that the unchanged 15-day deadline for returning containers remains a concern.

“It doesn’t reflect conditions on the ground,” he said. “Delays happen because of roadblocks, fuel shortages, or logistical snags. Extending the return period would make the system even more effective.”

Experts have also weighed in, praising the wider benefits for the economy. Matiwos Ensermu (PhD), an associate professor of logistics and supply chain management at Addis Abeba University, believes eliminating deposits would accelerate trade, reduce bureaucracy, and improve liquidity for importers and exporters.

“Businesses already face high port fees, transport costs, and taxes,” Matiwos said. “Adding cash guarantees on top of that drained resources. The new system is more rational. It speeds up clearance, reduces red tape, and releases working capital that companies can reinvest in operations.”

But Matiwos pressed for further steps.

“The Commission needs to focus resources on combating smuggling and modernising customs systems,” he said. “Technology and stronger oversight will deliver more efficiency than tying up importers’ cash ever could.”

Officials argue that the change also creates greater uniformity across the Commission’s various branches, which had previously interpreted the deposit rule differently. By standardising procedures, they say, the Commission can improve service delivery while still holding traders accountable.

Drug Makers Left in Limbo as Macroeconomic Reforms Bite

The pharmaceutical industry, which has long been championed as a vehicle for import substitution and national self-reliance, is facing mounting pressures.

Currency shortages, rigid procurement frameworks, and tight financing conditions are combining to strain the industry’s capacity to deliver essential medicines. Industry executives caution that while macroeconomic reforms promise long-term efficiency, they have collided with entrenched bureaucratic practices, creating short-term disruptions that threaten the continuity of the medicine supply across the country.

Over the past three years, the federal government has aggressively promoted domestic pharmaceutical manufacturing. Public procurement from local drug firms has ballooned, from under one billion Birr to 15.6 billion Br, while the portfolio of essential medicines produced domestically has expanded vastly.

Three years ago, only two of the most procured essential medicines were sourced domestically. Today, that number has grown to eight. Out of the 262 essential medicines purchased annually, the share produced by local firms has risen to 41pc.

The surge in local production is not merely a statistical phenomenon. Milestones include a doubling, to six, in the number of firms certified under Current Good Manufacturing Practices (CGMP), and a complete halt in imports of medicated gauze.

“These gains illustrate the industry’s resilience,” said Daniel Waktole, president of the Ethiopian Pharmaceuticals & Medical Supplies  Manufacturers Association (EPMSMA), speaking on the sidelines of the Association’s general assembly at the Inter Luxury Hotel, on Marshal Tito Road, last week.

The Association comprises 26 of the country’s leading Pharmaceuticals & Medical Supplies Manufacturers. But Daniel also issued a stark warning.

“Banks are no longer required to prioritise our sector for forex,” he told Fortune. “That means waiting weeks, or even months, for the foreign currency needed to import raw materials. Delays in forex allocations now directly cause shortages.”

Historically, pharmaceutical manufacturers shared the same foreign currency priority as importers of fuel and fertiliser. This changed in July of last year, when the National Bank of Ethiopia (NBE) revised its foreign exchange allocation directive, removing pharmaceuticals from the priority list.

The consequence, Daniel saw, has been severe.

“If I open a Letter of Credit (LC) today, I won’t get the funds for months,” he said. “By then, if the dollar has appreciated, the additional cost falls on us. It’s not sustainable.”

He complained that firms should now deposit more than 100pc of the forex value upfront, on top of commissions and service fees, before an LC is even processed.

Although the Association has raised its concerns with the officials at the Central Bank, the ministries of Finance and Health, and the Ethiopian Bankers Association, responses from the banks have been “inadequate,” according to Daniel.

“All we ask is for support as part of their social responsibility.”

Banks reject allegations of negligence. According to Demissew Kassa, secretary general of the Ethiopian Bankers Association, the forex policy change came from the NBE, not commercial banks.

“If NBE commands, banks comply,” he said.

Demissew defended the practice of demanding full deposits before opening LCs, noting it addresses the risk of importers failing to clear or sell their shipments. He also rejected claims that banks charge more than a four percent commission, down from 14pc last month.

“This is standard practice globally,” he told Fortune. “In fact, the Ethiopian system is comparatively lenient.”

Even if forex challenges were resolved, manufacturers face another constraint in rigid procurement contracts. The Ethiopian Pharmaceuticals Supply Service (EPSS), the government’s primary buyer, imposes year-long fixed-price agreements that offer no flexibility for exchange rate fluctuations or rising production costs.

“Our margins are eroded,” said Daniel. “We bid months in advance, with no way to predict the Birr’s depreciating value or input price hikes.”

He would like to see EPSS follow the example of other countries, where reference prices are regularly updated and contracts are adjusted accordingly.

“We urgently need such a mechanism here,” he said.

The Birr has lost nearly 154pc against the dollar in one year beginning in August 2024. In global markets, contracts typically allow price adjustments for fluctuations above three percent.

“Here, there is no such clause,” Daniel said. “This forces companies to either bid high, appearing uncompetitive, or accept loss-making deals.”

EPSS Deputy Director General, Aknaw Kawza, offered a different perspective. He attributed cost overruns to frequent delivery delays.

“Manufacturers often request extensions, pushing delivery dates beyond contract periods, he told Fortune. “Prices shift during that time, affecting revenues.”

According to Aknaw, a five-year framework contract is under development, which would allow for annual price adjustments, potentially serving as a compromise to ease pressure. He disclosed to Fortune that his agency already tolerates domestic bids up to 25pc higher than imports, but warned that further flexibility would burden taxpayers.

“We supply public institutions,” he said. “We can’t pass excessive costs to the public.”

He urged manufacturers to adopt a long-term outlook.

Lack of working capital is another bottleneck. Banks require collateral that many manufacturers cannot provide. Industry leaders proposed a model in which the Association would guarantee bank loans. After goods are delivered, it would settle the loan before paying the manufacturer.

Banks are wary about this. Demissew acknowledged that state-owned banks, such as the Commercial Bank of Ethiopia (CBE) and the Development Bank of Ethiopia (DBE), might consider such schemes if EPSS offered guarantees. But private banks see it as risky.

“We manage public funds,” he said. “Lending must be based on viability and risk, not promises from other institutions.”

EPSS directors are also hesitant, concerned about exposing themselves to this level of risk.

“If a firm fails to deliver, banks will deduct the amount from our accounts,” said Aknaw. “This requires a policy-level solution. We cannot decide this alone.”

The Association leaders were careful not to sound like they were rejecting macroeconomic reforms outright. They acknowledge that market-based forex allocation and investor-friendly policies are vital for long-term competitiveness. Recent incentives for pharmaceutical manufacturers and harmonisation with continental regulatory frameworks are seen as positive steps.

But the transition is proving painful for them. Tadesse Teferi (MD), the newly elected president of the Association, blamed the mismatch between forex-based input costs and Birr-denominated revenues.

“Even with strong demand and efficient operations, contracts can quickly turn loss-making,” he said. “Margin erosion is now widespread.”

Tadesse proposed a targeted fix, allowing contracts to reflect currency fluctuations partially. Inputs priced in foreign exchange would be converted at the LC settlement rate, while other costs would remain in Birr.

“This isn’t about reversing reform,” he told Fortune. “It’s about ensuring reform doesn’t destroy local capacity.”

Not all developments are discouraging for the pharmaceutical industry. Manufacturers welcomed EPSS’s proposed five-year procurement framework.

“It brings stability,” said Kedir Sherif, country manager of Julphar Pharmaceuticals. “It motivates us to plan ahead, improve operations, and attract investment. A guaranteed buyer for five years is a game-changer.”

Still, persistent obstacles remain, including customs delays, high transportation costs, and bureaucratic red tape.

“Even with incentives, the reliance on imports leaves us exposed,” said Yoseph Argaw, an assistant general manager of Humanwell Pharmaceutical Ethiopia Plc. “We need to build capacity to produce raw materials locally.”

The Minister of Industry, Melaku Alebel, reaffirmed his government’s commitment.

“We’ve seen visible transformation, more capacity, rising local market share, and new investments,” he told the gathering. “The Manufacturing Industry Council is addressing bottlenecks.”

But Melaku also stressed the limits of government support.

“Our role is policy and infrastructure,” he said. “The private sector must be the engine of growth.”

At the close of the EPMSMA general assembly, a note of guarded optimism prevailed. Finance expert Worku Lemma summed up the policy dilemma.

“Medicine is essential,” he told Fortune. “It should not be treated like luxury imports. But banks also have fiduciary duties.”

He urged a compromise where 20pc to 30pc of manufacturers’ forex needs are prioritised, while pressing firms to strengthen their own financing capacities.

“This is about balance,” Worku said. “No sector should rely entirely on public guarantees. Resilience must be built.”

Authority’s Drive to Clean Up Agriculture Faces Uphill Battle Over Cost, Compliance

The federal government is to inject nearly 31 million dollars into a sweeping overhaul of the country’s plant health regime, a strategy authorities hope will safeguard farmers, revive export credibility, and reposition agriculture for the global market.

The proposed Phytosanitary Capacity Development Strategy, drafted by the Ethiopian Agricultural Authority (ETA), targets the root causes of export performance issues, such as pest contamination and a lack of certification, blamed for rejected shipments and underpriced produce. Officials say the project marks one of the most ambitious efforts yet to modernise agriculture, a sector that underpins food security and exports.

Plant pests, long treated as a side issue in the push to expand production, have quietly eroded incomes, biodiversity and the country’s trade profile. The new strategy calls for investments in monitoring, inspection and certification systems to ensure that export products meet the sanitary requirements of as many as 186 countries.

“The new strategy will help us ensure exported products are free of harmful insects,” said Wondale Habtamu (PhD), deputy director general of the Ethiopian Agriculture Authority (ETA). “Some pests that seem harmless here can cause devastating diseases elsewhere.”

Over the past seven years, Ethiopia imported more than 613,000tns of planting materials ranging from flower cuttings and vegetable seeds to strawberry and avocado seedlings and banana plantlets produced through tissue culture. Along with them came invasive pests, from cotton mealybug, tomato leaf miner and white mango scale to wheat stem rust, citrus whitefly and faba bean gall disease. More aggressive threats, such as the South American tomato fruit worm and maize lethal necrosis disease, have raised fresh alarms about the country’s plant health systems.

The risks are already showing up in trade figures. Since 2021, Ethiopia has exported over 6.6 million metric tons of agricultural products. Between 2015 and mid-2025, European data show that 154 shipments were intercepted due to pest contamination, resulting in rejected or destroyed cargo. The shipments included vegetables, fruits and other cash crops intended for markets in Europe and the Middle East, where sanitary standards are strict.

“This shows the gaps in our plant health system,” Wondale said.

The problem is that many exports are unsanitised raw products with limited traceability. The Deputy Director compared the system to human travel protocols.

“As a person needs a passport and visa, agricultural products also need clearance against GMOs, fungi, and bacteria,” he said.

According to Wondale, even seemingly harmless insects, such as butterflies, can transmit more than 100 plant diseases abroad, triggering costly quarantines for exporters.

The Food & Agriculture Organisation (FAO) estimates that up to 40pc of global crop production is lost annually to pests and diseases, costing over 220 billion dollars. Diseases alone account for around 14pc of losses, according to studies cited by the Caribbean Plant Health Directors Forum and ScienceDirect. Ethiopia, Wondale said, risks falling behind competitors if it continues shipping raw, uncertified products.

“Products cannot be sold solely because they are produced,” he said. “Without quality, volume is nothing.”

Japan demonstrates how quality standards transform agricultural trade. There, premium meat sells for 300 dollars to 400 dollars a kilogram due to rigorous health and quality inspections. Ethiopia, by contrast, exports vegetables and fruits mainly to nearby markets such as Djibouti and Somalia, earning modest prices that fail to match the labour or potential value of the produce.

“The goal is to move from agriculture to agribusiness,” Wondale said. “We must maximise value, not just volume.”

According to Wondale, issues like modern traceability and digitised systems are compounded by a lack of awareness, which remains the biggest challenge. Without electronic records and clear quality control, the country cannot ensure the production of safe and consistent products for export markets. Between 2019 and 2024, Ethiopia exported an estimated 36.4 million metric tons of agricultural goods, with annual volumes increasing from 5.2 million metric tons to nearly 6.8 million metric tons.

Coffee, pulses, oilseeds, cut flowers, and growing volumes of fruits and vegetables fueled the growth, but Wondale admitted the overall export value “remains far from what could be achieved.”

Cotton offers a clear illustration of Ethiopia’s trade vulnerabilities. Over the past decade, the country earned 1.1 billion dollars from cotton exports while importing 5.6 billion dollars worth, leaving a wide trade deficit. In 2023 alone, cotton exports brought in only 11.68 million dollars, according to the UN COMTRADE database. Most of the cotton was conventional, rather than sustainable, which limited access to premium markets, such as the European Union (EU), where deforestation and traceability rules have become stricter.

Three years ago, one company exported 50,000tns of raw cotton. Now sustainable cotton exports do not exceed 100tns. Tsegaye Abebe, general manager of the Ethiopian Cotton Association, blamed the decline on strict rules on fertiliser use, high maintenance requirements and poor incentives for producers.

“Sustainable cotton offers premium prices,” he said, “but without subsidies and support, large-scale producers see little reason to invest.”

Similar complaints come from fruit and vegetable exporters, who say meeting health and quality standards drains their limited resources. According to Messay Gudina, head of the Meki Batu Fruits & Vegetables Producers Union, chemical testing alone costs his group 1.5 million Br for 300 farmers, while Global G.A.P. certification for 200 farmers required another 1.1 million Br.

“We know these measures are necessary,” he said. “But the costs are crushing.”

Despite such hurdles, experts argue that vegetables and fruits remain among Ethiopia’s best hopes for diversifying exports and climbing the value chain. Agriculture anchors the food security framework, closely tied to the Ethiopia Country Strategic Plan (2025–2030), led by the World Food Programme (WFP). With a 3.37 billion dollar budget, the plan aspires to ensure vulnerable populations have access to safe and nutritious food while aligning the country’s agricultural policies with “Zero Hunger” of the UN’s Sustainable Development Goal (SDGs).

Experts warn, however, that the reforms could push some exporters out of business. Rising compliance costs will eat into already thin margins, said Shimeles Araya (PhD), an agricultural economist.

“This will reduce exporters’ competitiveness and may push them out of global markets,” he said.

If that happens, he cautioned, exporters will turn to domestic markets where prices and demand are lower, discouraging future investments in exports.

The risks extend to the broader economy. The country recorded a trade deficit of 3.81 billion dollars in the second quarter of 2024, with imports of 5.07 billion dollars far outpacing exports of 1.27 billion dollars, according to the National Bank of Ethiopia (NBE).

“This undermines policy sovereignty,” Shimeles said. “If trade deficits grow, Ethiopia risks becoming import-dependent and losing control over its economic agenda.”

For officials, the phytosanitary strategy presents an opportunity to transform the agricultural profile, shifting from bulk raw shipments to higher-value and standards-compliant agribusiness. For farmers and exporters, it raises tough questions about cost, feasibility and awareness. For policymakers, it highlights the delicate balance between protecting plant health, feeding the population and competing in global markets.

“This is about more than insects,” said Wondale. “It’s about the future of our agricultural economy.”

Violence Against Health Workers Must End

This summer, a male patient at Specialist Hospital Damaturu in Nigeria’s Yobe State physically assaulted a female healthcare worker following a dispute over the provision of medical attention. Sadly, this is a relatively common experience for healthcare workers in Nigeria, especially women. Surveys conducted in hospitals in Kaduna state and  Abia state found that 64pc and 88pc of health workers, respectively, had experienced workplace violence.

During my own first year of clinical practice in Nigeria, when I was just 24 years old, I was attacked by a parent in the children’s ward where I worked.

Nigeria is not alone. Reports of violence against healthcare workers have been on the rise over the last five years in a wide range of countries, including Australia, China, the Czech Republic, France, Germany, Poland, Slovakia, Spain, Turkey, the United Kingdom (UK), and the United States (US). A 2019 study, showed that 11pc of nurses in Italy had endured physical violence at work in the previous year, and four percent were threatened with a firearm. About half of all nurses reported experiencing verbal aggression.

Such reporting tells only part of the story. The belief that violence is “part of the job,” together with the lack of protocols for handling attacks and the empathy of many in the healthcare field, discourages reporting. When I was attacked in 2004, narrowly avoiding a severe head injury, thanks only to the swift intervention of another patient’s relative, I eschewed legal prosecution out of sympathy for the perpetrator’s family, which was, after all, grappling with a child’s illness and subsequent death.

It is likely that fewer than half of all victims of violence in healthcare settings report the incidents.

With this in mind, the World Health Organisation (WHO) estimates that as many as 38pc of healthcare workers suffer some form of physical violence, perpetrated mostly by patients and visitors, at some point in their careers. This figure does not cover the verbal threats and intimidation many workers face as they carry out life-saving work, often under high-stress, low-resource conditions.

Several factors contribute to the violence. Healthcare workers are often younger women. They work both day and night shifts in environments that are accessible to the general public, including people who have consumed drugs or alcohol, and people suffering from psychiatric illnesses. Staff and resource shortages mean that healthcare workers are often overworked, underpaid, and lack access to the tools they need to deliver quality or timely care.

Long wait times increase stress and frustration among patients (and their relatives), who often expect miracles, even when they present late for treatment. Add to that poor communication and weak workplace protections, and violence becomes a constant peril. Risks to healthcare workers are particularly acute in disasters, conflicts, and other humanitarian settings, where they may also become the targets of political or communal violence.

During the COVID-19 pandemic, social isolation, misinformation about the virus, and the “dehumanisation” of healthcare workers, who were often viewed as resources, not people, contributed to a sharp uptick in violence. As a result of these experiences, healthcare workers often deal with anxiety, depression, job burnout, post-traumatic stress disorder, and other mental health conditions. One study found that some 76pc of psychiatric nurses who suffered from workplace violence subsequently experienced depressive symptoms.

As health workers’ well-being declines, so does the care that patients receive. Increased absenteeism and turnover compound the problem, especially as fewer people choose to enter the healthcare field. At a time when the world is facing a shortage of healthcare workers, projected to reach 10 million by 2030, this poses a direct threat to public health.

Protecting healthcare workers will require a variety of interventions. For starters, violence prevention and response should be integrated into workers’ education and training. They should be taught communication strategies for de-escalating tense situations and self-defence techniques to use if violence erupts. Team-based training can strengthen coordinated responses, enabling other workers to intervene when their colleagues are targeted.

The scope and enforcement of existing worker-protection laws should be enhanced. Institutions should implement zero-tolerance guidelines, with clear protocols for monitoring workplace safety, reporting and investigating incidents, and bringing legal action against offenders. The swift arrest and prosecution of perpetrators, as seen after the recent attack at Specialist Hospital Damaturu, can act as a deterrent. Hiring trained security personnel would also help, as would the implementation of reliable communication systems that enable workers to sound the alarm when their safety is threatened.

A concerted effort should also be made to address health-worker shortages, such as through task-shifting or -sharing, the partial or complete redistribution of certain responsibilities to less qualified personnel, so that highly qualified workers can focus on tasks that require their expertise. Already, this approach has improved service delivery in a number of areas, including HIV/AIDS, tuberculosis, hypertension, diabetes, mental health, eyecare, maternal and child health, sexual and reproductive health, and emergency care, in 23 Sub-Saharan African countries.

All individuals have the right to a safe workplace. When we fail to uphold this right for healthcare workers, we hurt not only them but also the health of the public they serve.

Intersecting Crises Spur Global Reckoning on Values, Human Purpose

In 1999, one of us (Morin) introduced the term “polycrisis” to describe the web of interconnected catastrophes threatening our world. At the time, the concept was meant to serve as a warning, but it has since become our reality. We are facing a confluence of escalating ecological, political, economic, technological, and existential crises, each of which is reinforcing the others.

The polycrisis is best understood as a cascade, a tangle of intertwined non-linear causes and ripple effects.

Climate change leads to human displacement and forced migration, which fuels xenophobia and nationalism, weakening global cooperation and further accelerating ecological collapse. Economic inequality erodes trust, fueling authoritarianism and violence. Technological innovation offers solutions, but also causes new problems such as fractured communities, destabilised work patterns, and distorted public discourse. The COVID-19 pandemic, new wars, growing mental-health crises, and democratic backsliding are not isolated phenomena, but rather symptoms of a deeper systemic rupture.

To grapple with so much complexity, we should first reject reductive thinking. Our institutions, divided by rigid disciplines and linear cause-and-effect models, are no longer fit for purpose. We need an approach that acknowledges networks and relationships, accepts contradictions, and recognises the limits of our understanding; one that combines critical rigour with creative intuition, and scientific clarity with poetic vision. We should meet complexity with humility, not denial.

We also need something deeper, a new perspective that centres on our shared humanity. Call it Renewed Humanism. Born during the Renaissance, Humanism put dignity at the heart of artistic and intellectual pursuits. But as the Enlightenment advanced the values of reason, liberty, equality, and progress, Humanism lost its way, elevating the individual over the planet, justifying colonial conquest and ceaseless commodification, and erasing the spiritual dimension from our shared consciousness.

A Renewed Humanism would reclaim the value of humility. It would ground dignity in relationality, recognising that every person is bound to all others in a shared community. It would operate globally, encouraging ecological prudence, spiritual dialogue, and cultural diversity. It would not reject science, but it would ground the scientific disciplines in a shared ethics. It would not view technology with fear, but it would steer innovation proactively.

The point is not to retreat into nostalgia, but to open new paths to the future. Today’s environmental crises, democratic decline, and erosion of meaning are not obstacles. They can be opportunities to redefine what it means to be human together.

This is not naive optimism. Our hope is firmly grounded in an awareness of humanity’s current predicament. As Václav Havel wrote, “hope is not the conviction that something will turn out well but the certainty that something makes sense, regardless of how it turns out.” Even in the face of darkness, we can bring the light, because Humanist values are embedded in human nature itself. These include an appreciation for complexity, interdependence, dignity, the responsibilities that accompany freedom, mutual understanding, spirituality, a politics of civilisation, and an integral ecology.

Rather than fight those who act destructively, we should dissent with love. We should embrace them, trusting that every human being holds the potential to arrive at Humanist values. We can already see this awakening around the world, especially among young people. They are using the tools at their disposal to advocate for climate justice, preserve Indigenous wisdom, build feminist economies, practice regenerative agriculture, and foster interfaith dialogue.

By rejecting the false dichotomies between reason and emotion, analysis and empathy, humanity and nature, they embody a Renewed Humanism.

The polycrisis cannot be addressed with isolated measures or slogans. It demands cultural and ethical metamorphosis, a rebirth of collective consciousness, institutions, and values. That is why we are deeply encouraged by the launch of the World Humanism Forum, an intergenerational gathering of thinkers, dreamers, leaders, and wisdom-keepers. Rather than simply lamenting the risks we face, they will ask what it means to be human in a wounded world, and what we can repair, reimagine, and rekindle.

Though we will not arrive at definitive answers, we can at least consider the same questions.

For example, how can we ground education in curiosity and compassion? How can we build economies that affirm life rather than exploit it? And which stories can we tell to reconnect humans with the natural environment?

In a world that has privileged technical rationality over emotional depth, reclaiming the passions is not a sign of weakness but a source of strength. We need minds that feel and hearts that think. We need to muster the courage to let others’ suffering move us. Emotion and reason are not enemies. When they are integrated, the combination is far more powerful than either one on its own.

We will not overcome the polycrisis without multilateralism, but nor can we maintain the technocratic approach that has dominated global gatherings. We need a humanistic multilateralism that is inclusive, participatory, and built on trust and shared responsibility. Climate action should go beyond finance and science. Reducing emissions is not enough. We have to regenerate ecosystems, protect biodiversity, and transform our way of inhabiting Earth.

Climate is ultimately the metric of our planetary consciousness. Renewed Humanism will not solve everything, but it will give us a compass. After centuries of trying to conquer the world, we should learn to care for it. That means embracing complexity, and reclaiming the best of what makes us human.