I didn’t realize while watching Gladiator Part Two that Ejigayehu Shibabaw, (a.k.a. Gigi), a renowned Ethiopian singer, was among the vocalists featured. Gigi, celebrated for her extraordinary vocal range and themes, had been absent from the public scene for many years. Her comeback could not have been more emphatic, contributing to the soundtrack of a blockbuster sequel to the 2000 epic series.

The film, with a production budget of 250 million dollars, has grossed over 370 million dollars to date. It has also garnered nominations for various awards, including the Oscars and accolades in the Original Score category of the prestigious Hollywood Music in Media Awards.

This isn’t the first time Ethiopian artists have been part of major international artistic projects that went largely unnoticed by the Ethiopian public. For instance, when Ziggy Marley and the Wailers won multiple Grammys in the 1980s, Zeleke Gessese was part of the band and contributed to the song lyrics. Unfortunately, few Ethiopians are aware of this achievement on the global stage.

It surprises me that as a society, we often focus on local trivialities, giving media attention to matters that don’t always reflect substantial achievements. I wasn’t aware of Zeleke’s contributions until I learned about them from his brother, Mulugeta Gessese, who was also part of the team but later transitioned from music to a career in IT.

Few people realize that Mulatu Astatke’s music was featured in seven soundtracks for the 2005 Hollywood movie Broken Flowers. With a budget of 10 million dollars, the film made 47.3 million dollars. I had the privilege of discussing the movie with Mulatu at the Africa Jazz Club. He shared that the film’s crew approached him while he was on a musical tour in the United States.

Mulatu’s influence extends beyond Broken Flowers. His music also features in the soundtracks of In the World (2013), Mojave (2015), and The Voyeurs (2021).

During my visits to the Abrehot Library, I often noticed a large poster in the parking lot featuring a man named Lemn Sissay. The image and name intrigued me, leading me to research his story.

Lemn Sissay is an author and poet, with nearly two dozen published books, plays, and radio dramas for the BBC. He is also the recipient of one of Britain’s highest honors, the OBE (Officer of the Order of the British Empire). He also served as the Chancellor of the University of Manchester.

Lemn's life is marked by a sad childhood story. Raised by adoptive British parents who later abandoned him to a children’s home, Lemn spent much of his youth in foster care.

His discovery of his biological parents came when he received his birth certificate. It revealed his Ethiopian roots, the name his mother had given him, Lemn Sissay, and the tragic circumstances of his upbringing. His mother was denied custody, and his father, an airline employee, had died in a plane crash.

Despite Lemn's remarkable life and achievements, his story remains largely unknown in Ethiopia. It’s unlikely that most Ethiopians know his name, let alone his contributions.

This lack of recognition extends to other influential figures such as Ashenafi Kebede, the renowned musical scholar who composed the iconic ‘Bale Washintu Eregna’ (The Shepherd with the Flute), and authors like Gebrekristos Desta and Dagnachew Worku. Their legacies fade into obscurity, while social media personalities dominate public discourse.