Fortune News | Nov 22,2025
The rattle of hammers and the smell of fresh paint have settled across neighbourhoods in Addis Abeba like the onset of a major holiday. Homeowners scramble to repaint fences, swap cracked tiles, string new light bulbs and mount security cameras, all under municipal orders issued in the name of “beautification.”
Uniformity is the rule as every fence must take the same grey coat, every façade should glow after dusk, and every entrance has to hold a garbage bin. Old roofs of corrugated iron should be sprayed anew, and broken paving stones should be replaced. City officials warn that delays will bring fines, and entire neighbourhoods have been told to comply before inspectors circle back.
What began two years ago as a tidy finish for the city’s new corridor roads has seeped into every neighbourhood. District officers now walk door-to-door with checklists and deadlines, instructing residents to meet the standards quickly or face penalties, including water or electricity shut-offs.
On a recent afternoon, those officers reached the low gate of Asegedech Bahir, 80, in Kolfe Qeranyo District, Woreda 05, near Zenebework. They told her to rebuild her fence, paint the corrugated sheets grey and attach a light fixture. No delay, and no excuses.
She tried to persuade them that she lives without a pension, surviving on the modest salary of her daughter, Etaferahu Melesu, who works at a health centre. She cannot do what was asked. The local officials were unmoved. She was told to finish the work within three days. A carpenter later priced it. Demolishing the fence, pouring fresh concrete, buying paint and installing wiring and a lamp would cost as much as 20,000 Br.
“That money does not exist in this house,” Asegedech said, lowering her eyes. “Even if I borrow the amount, I don’t think I can repay it. It feels like my final years are becoming a struggle instead of a time for rest.”
The campaign to repaint the city stretches across the capital, beyond the main avenues to inner-city clusters. For households squeezed by the rising cost of living, the tally is daunting. A modest makeover can reach 10,000 Br, leaving many longtime residents in financial limbo.
A gallon of paint sells for up to 1,600 Br, tiles, known locally as Ega, at roughly 1,300 Br each and spotlights at 800 Br. Mid-range security cameras cost between 4,000 and 13,000 Br. Those prices exclude electrical cable, brushes and labour.
Local officials insist that the price is necessary. Girma Seifu, an opposition figure who was once elected to Parliament and the founding leader of the Ethiopian Citizens for Social Justice (ECSJ), now heads the city's Urban Beautification & Green Development Bureau. He disclosed that repainting and installing lights are mandatory.
A group of people rebuilding a fence in Kolfe Qeranyo District, Woreda 05, near Zenebework
“Poverty can't be an excuse for neglect,” he said. "The Administration may assist residents who struggle to afford food, but the broader rules will not soften."
City officials like him warn that households failing to comply risk losing utilities or being denied other municipal services. Despite his contention that the choice of colour is not as rigid as critics imply, that they can choose grey or colours within the grey tone, letters circulated by district offices instruct dwellers to paint their buildings grey. Residents say inspectors enforce that single hue.
In Bole District, the requirement has expanded further. In the Gerji Mebrat Hail neighbourhood of Wereda 14, residents were told to mount cameras in addition to lights. Most people there are poor or middle-income, like Abrehet Hagos, a mother of two.
"How can someone who struggles to buy a gallon of paint afford a security camera?” she wondered.
According to Mandefro Temesgen, the District's chief executive officer, cameras are required because residents have long complained about security. Devices would be placed at strategic points rather than on every façade, but the broader command is that every property should shine at night and wear grey remains standing.
The beautification push traces back to Addis Abeba’s corridor-development project, officially launched in February 2023. Phase One covered 48Km through Piassa, Arat Kilo, Bole, Megenagna, Mexico and CMC, relocating no less than 11,000 people.
International rights groups have taken notice of the consequences of displacement. In April last year, Amnesty International urged the government to halt corridor projects in at least 58 towns and assess the impact on human rights. The Group reported that 872 people were displaced from the Bole and Lemi Kura districts in September 2024, including 114 children, 13 elderly people, and 618 tenants, alleging that they were not adequately consulted. It protested that neither were they given sufficient advance notice nor were they compensated.
“People are being forcibly displaced from their homes without legal protection and other safeguards due to corridor development,” said Amnesty.
The bill for the first phase to the city's taxpayers was about 33 billion Br. The second phase, now underway, covers 132Km across 2,817hct and sweeps through Casanchis, Abware and five other districts. City officials say most of the construction is completed, though some tasks remain.
Now that city officials have turned from corridors to villages, pressure on residents is mounting. Many compare the grey mandate to draping the capital in a shroud.
Getahun Hermo, a chemical engineer who runs Nita Colour Centre and writes about colour theory, argues that grey, being achromatic, carries a psychological toll.
“People who are already stressed by personal and social issues, such as the high cost of living or the impacts of war, need environments that promote extroversion and engagement,” he wrote on social media.
Vocal on social media platforms, he questioned the plan’s lawfulness, noting that Addis Abeba’s master plan lacks any guidance on colour. He pointed to cities in North America, Europe, and Asia where “City Colour Planning” departments issue colour permits much like building offices issue construction permits.
“Before any citywide colour is approved, it must be included in the master plan. If not, enforcing such a decision should be deemed illegal,” he said.
Others in the urban planning circle prefer to see the positive side of the drive toward uniformity.
One such professional is Manalush Alemu, a veteran urban planner who once headed the Land & Development Bureau under the Lideta District. She believes giving the city a recognisable identity “is not inherently bad,” although she is reluctant to fully endorse the wisdom of painting everything grey. She cites Paris, where stone façades keep their natural hue, and Athens, whose waterfront culture turned lime into its signature white.
According to her, Addis Abeba relies on imported materials not native to its natural environment, forging a sameness that erodes residents’ sense of belonging. Grey contains many tones, yet, she warned, applying it uniformly dethrones local character rather than enhancing it.
Nonetheless, the rush, not merely colour, that troubles her most. Many residents can hardly afford daily expenses, let alone the unexpected cost of unplanned renovations.
"Beautification should unfold gradually so people can save, plan and participate," she told Fortune. "Rushing diminishes residents’ sense of ownership, weakens their connection to the city, and risks creating a city that people find hard to identify with.”
For Manalush, demanding residents to buy lights and paint under threat of fines is “inappropriate and insensitive" to the realities of everyday life.
Those arguments collide with Girma’s emphasis on quick results. According to him, neighbourhoods left untouched may fall next on the demolition list, a warning that increases pressure on households already worried about school fees and food prices. For many, the grey directive feels like a test of loyalty to a city racing to modernise.
That prospect keeps carpenters busy and streets noisy. In hardware shops downtown, customers line up for rollers and cement, bargaining over prices. Electricians hop from job to job, replacing frayed wires with new cabling. At dusk, shops stay open late so buyers can compare bulb wattage and camera resolution.
However, the rhythm of renewal feels uneven. Wealthier households along main roads hire crews and finish in days. On the outskirts, low-income families chip away, brushing primer on weekends, scouting secondhand markets for tiles and saving for cameras only after neighbours pool funds. Some quietly hope inspectors will bypass their lane. Others brace for utility shut-offs if they fall behind.
Night already falls on a brighter city, but much of that light shines on half-painted walls. Sceptics doubt uniform grey and scattered cameras can mask deeper urban ills such as traffic congestion, overcrowded housing and unemployment. Residents like Asegedech sense the gap between the Administration’s vision and their own means. She has yet to rebuild her fence.
The campaign has turned a season usually devoted to voluntary household tidying into an endurance test. Business has boomed for suppliers of lights and paint, but anxiety rises among those counting coins for daily bread.
As the holiday approaches, families traditionally hang new curtains, polish floors and slaughter chickens for feasts. The city’s mandate borrows that ritual but replaces choice with decree. In many capital cities, building codes enforce uniform heights or setback lines. Addis Abeba’s experiment extends the logic to colour and illumination, embedding aesthetics in law. Whether the policy will survive public resentment or set a model for other fast-growing cities remains to be seen. For now, the capital is a scene where compliance and resistance mingle, mingled with the smell of wet cement and paint.
The city Administration hopes the campaign will finish swiftly, but the city seldom moves in unison. Some villages still have unpaved lanes that flood during rain. Power cuts delay electricians, and inflation pushes prices higher each week. Residents like Asegedech and Abrehet trade tips on cheaper suppliers, wait for sales or ask relatives abroad to wire money.
PUBLISHED ON
Feb 23,2026 [ VOL
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