Facing the Butcher’s Cut

The image remains vivid; standing at the butcher’s shop, watching as the order was prepared, and spotting it. A small, unbandaged cut on the butcher’s finger caught the eye, and unease settled in almost instantly. The mind leapt to unsettling conclusions, imagining the presence of blood and the risks it might carry. The thought of bloodborne diseases, especially HIV or Hepatitis, felt especially alarming given a preference for meat cooked less thoroughly.

The discomfort lingered well after leaving the shop, prompting a personal search for clarity. Rather than relying on dense medical literature, the aim was to find grounded, comprehensible information to ease the mind. The findings turned out to be surprisingly reassuring. Understanding replaced fear as science dismantled the imagined threats one by one.

The first major revelation involved HIV, a virus far more delicate than previously assumed. Outside the body, HIV cannot survive for long, especially not on exposed surfaces like a piece of meat. It requires particular conditions – direct, fresh fluid exchange – to pose a threat. The likelihood of infection from surface contact with dried or airborne blood is virtually nonexistent.

Even if contaminated blood were to reach the meat, the exposure to air would render the virus inactive almost immediately. HIV, it turns out, is fragile and ill-suited to survive outside its ideal environment. This single fact lifted a considerable weight from the chest. The imagined scenario simply did not match the biological reality.

Attention then turned to Hepatitis B and C, which are known for slightly greater resilience. These viruses can survive on surfaces longer than HIV, but still require direct blood-to-blood contact for transmission. The human digestive system, equipped with powerful acids and enzymes, is inhospitable to such pathogens. Swallowing trace amounts of food does not pose the same danger as sharing needles or open wounds.

This understanding offered its own form of comfort. The route of transmission mattered deeply; oral ingestion of tiny amounts did not qualify. The distinction between contact risk and ingestion risk became crystal clear. Relief settled in, grounded in the logic of medical science rather than anxiety-driven speculation.

Cooking, however, proved to be the ultimate reassurance. Heat, especially at safe internal temperatures, destroys pathogens, including viruses and harmful bacteria. Even in dishes where meat is served pink in the middle, the exterior reaches searing temperatures. The outer surfaces, where contamination would occur, are reliably sanitised by cooking.

Techniques like searing or grilling provide an added layer of security. The crust developed during cooking acts as a protective measure against surface pathogens. Even a rare steak undergoes enough surface heat to neutralise external contaminants. It became clear that proper cooking habits are a silent safeguard against most foodborne concerns.

Interestingly, the true concern arising from an open wound in a food handler does not revolve around HIV or Hepatitis. Bacteria such as Staphylococcus aureus, which live on human skin, pose a more immediate threat in such cases. If introduced through a cut, these bacteria can multiply and release toxins, some of which are resistant to cooking. Good hygiene, bandaged wounds, and glove use remain essential practices to mitigate this risk.

What initially caused panic turned out to be a learning opportunity. The butcher’s cut, once a symbol of invisible danger, became a prompt for education and calm reflection. Understanding the distinction between imagined fears and actual risks changed the entire perception of the situation. Though the concern stemmed from a valid place, science provided a comforting perspective grounded in facts.

This experience underscored the importance of transparency and hygiene in food preparation. It also revealed the incredible reassurance that comes from knowing how biology and basic kitchen practices work together. Speaking up about such observations, if done respectfully, could even help improve safety for everyone. In the end, that uneasy moment inspired greater awareness, and with it, peace of mind.

 

When Leaving Becomes the Dream

The rideshare driver asked as he threaded through Addis Abeba’s evening traffic. The question, tossed off lightly, carried a heavy implication.

“So, when are you leaving?” he quipped.

Leaving, not staying, has become the country’s benchmark for ambition. A generation ago, migration was a wistful dream. Today, it is a national condition, pulsing beneath everyday talk in cafés and lecture halls. Each year, tens of thousands of Ethiopians depart through formal channels, such as visa lotteries, scholarships, and work permits. Others stake everything on perilous routes across Yemen’s deserts, Libyan detention camps and overland passages to South Africa.

They do not go out of ignorance but because remaining often feels like an act of resignation.

Host countries on the receiving end are not taking in the tired, poor, and huddled masses of myth. They welcome trained nurses, seasoned teachers, enterprising artisans and eager students, precisely the skills they struggle to produce fast enough at home. The irony would be comical if the bill were not paid by countries already stretched thin.

The one-way traffic of human capital, especially acute after years of conflict and economic disarray, bleeds through every sector. Hospitals groan under skeletal rosters. Schools lose not only instructors but also the continuity of mentorship. Public offices watch veterans depart, taking institutional memory with them. Construction, tech, and engineering projects stall due to a lack of skilled hands.

Consider healthcare. A 2023 Ministry of Health survey found that nearly 3,500 doctors, nurses, and anaesthetists had left in the three years preceding the survey. With a physician-to-patient ratio of one to 10,000, far below the World Health Organisation (WHO) minimum, the system tears a little more with each goodbye. Every departure is a tiny rip in an already fragile fabric.

Higher education mirrors the loss. Universities once alive with debate and rigour now watch senior staff head for Canada, Australia and the Gulf. In 2022 alone, more than 400 lecturers accepted foreign contracts, according to figures from the Education Ministry. Students who earn scholarships rarely plan to return.

The trend extends beyond the highly educated. The Gulf continues to draw low- and mid-skilled workers, including domestic staff, security guards, and construction labourers. Between 2018 and 2023, over 300,000 Ethiopians held such jobs. The International Organisation for Migration (IOM) estimates a further 70,000 citizens leave each year, legally or otherwise. Migration has become the default strategy. To succeed is to leave.

Those who stay muster stoic endurance. Even farewells carry absolution.

“Don’t come back,” friends say, half in jest, wholly in hope.

The refrain chips away at belief in reform and in the notion of progress itself.

Economists shorthand the phenomenon as “brain drain,” but the machinery operates on quiet extraction. Developed countries save billions by hiring professionals trained at someone else’s expense. The World Bank reckoned that each emigrating doctor costs a poor country up to half a million dollars in education investment and lost service. Despite vows of ethical recruitment, the UK and others continue to scour the Global South for health workers.

Remittances are held up as compensation, yet they cannot replace talent. Ethiopians abroad wired home more than five billion dollars last year, exceeding foreign direct investment and aid combined. But, money does not perform surgeries, teach students or administer policy. Economies are built by people who build, fix and imagine, not by cash alone.

The push factors run deep. Political instability and recurrent conflict have frayed trust in institutions. The national youth unemployment rate exceeded 20pc, but in Addis Abeba, it is much higher. Opportunity feels rationed, while merit goes unrewarded. A 2023 Gallup poll found 47pc of Ethiopians aged 18 to 29 hoped to leave permanently, a wanderlust that masks a deeper despair.

Policy initiatives nibble at the edge of the problem. Bilateral pacts seek to regularise labour migration, and small incentives try to lure professionals back. Yet, the central challenge of making staying feel like a future rather than a compromise remains unaddressed.

Globally, the debate over migration is marred by contradictions. Free movement of goods and capital is hailed as globalisation’s lifeblood, yet the movement of people is treated as a contagion. Denmark’s Prime Minister said Europe must “regain control” of its borders. Italy stages naval blockades; Britain pursues a deportation plan to Rwanda. Fortress-building is now a currency of political legitimacy even as those economies quietly depend on imported labour.

The cost is visible in empty classrooms, overburdened clinics, and aspirations shelved for lack of mentors. What Ethiopia loses is more than people. It is, possibly, itself. Staying should not require heroism, and leaving should not be the only route to hope. However, the question, “When are you leaving?” still echoes from rideshares to university corridors. For many young professionals, the answer is, sadly, very soon.

 

Saplings Should Not Be Rushed Like Election Rallies

 

At daybreak on Thursday last week, July 31, 2025, hundreds of thousands of Ethiopians fanned out across parks, highways, and riverbanks, seedlings in hand, driven to smash what organisers say was another record.

The federal government had vowed to plant 700 million trees in 24 hours, surpassing the 560 million it claims to have managed last year and India’s 66 million in 2017. By mid-afternoon, officials were already celebrating. They declared the following day that over 14.7 million saplings had been attained above the target.

“It’s been seen again the miracle Ethiopians do when cooperating,” crowed Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed (PhD), on X, formerly Twitter.

Several federal and regional leaders were seen sharing photos and video clips of mud-caked hands. Their party, the Prosperity Party (PP), has posted a message to the world: “Unity makes anything possible.”

Abiy’s Green Legacy Initiative has become a parade of giant numbers. In 2019, his government claimed to have planted 353 million trees in one day, followed by 450 million in 2021 and 560 million in 2023.

Granted, mobilising over 29 million volunteers is impressive by any measure. Yet, a rough sum could reveal the strain on such claims. Each planter must jab 35 seedlings into the ground in 24 hours, one every 40 minutes, without taking a break for food, water, or sleep.

Even crack reforestation squads working in perfect conditions would struggle to keep pace.

The economics are as daunting. A seedling, without associated costs for the staff, transport, and tools to shepherd it to planting sites, costs about 120 Br. Hitting the 700 million mark, therefore, implies over 84 billion Br of taxpayers’ money, roughly 4.5pc of the federal budget for 2025-26, the amount apportioned to national defence or a little lower than what is allocated to social services.

In a country where 33pc of the population lives below the global poverty line (according to the World Bank’s poverty and equity assessment released last year) and shortages of food and electricity are routine, diverting nearly half the purse to a one-day stunt would invite awkward questions.

However, mass planting of trees remains very crucial for Ethiopia. Its forest cover fell from 35pc early in the last century to less than four percent by the 2000s, stripped away by small farms, fuel-wood cutting, and logging. The Green Legacy’s ambitions to reverse the damage should be praiseworthy, albeit in terms of numbers and economics.

Neither India nor Ethiopia is the first to introduce such culture in their respective societies. In 1872, a Nebraska (United States) newspaperman launched a civic planting drive later echoed by Franklin Roosevelt’s Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC). At its peak in the 1930s, the CCC employed 300,000 young men and planted over three billion trees in a decade. During the Second World War, Washington backed a project to plant cork oaks, shielding Allied Forces’ supply chains from Mediterranean blockades.

After the Korean war, South Korea’s National Reforestation Programme planted more than two billion trees between 1962 and 1978, lifting forest cover from 35pc to over 65pc.

What all those efforts shared, though, was patience. America and Korea worked for years.

It would be unwise for Ethiopia’s leaders to trade duration for spectacle. The hazards show quickly. In some districts, torrential rain washed away a third of the seedlings within hours. National survival rates remain around 20pc and 30pc.

The species list deepens unease. Almost 80pc of global pledges under the Bonn Challenge are monoculture plantations, favouring quick-growing exotics that furnish timber but not biodiversity.

Ethiopia’s guides prescribe the use of eucalyptus and acacia, which are valuable for poles and fuel, yet poor substitutes for the native montane forests. Without careful matching of species to site, new plantations can siphon water and worsen drought.

International financiers note the gap between promise and proof. Ethiopia has earned only 70 million dollars from carbon credits; Kenya has banked 200 million dollars, and Gabon 150 million dollars. Both countries run rigorous monitoring, reporting, and verification (MRV) schemes demanded by offset markets.

Reaping carbon revenue is possible if MRV improves. Gabon measures every hectare by satellite and ties payments to survival; Kenya maps projects and audits removals. Ethiopia will need similar transparency if it hopes to tap a market now worth tens of billions of dollars.

Symbolism, though, cannot mend watersheds. Moving from spectacle to strategy would shift cash from sapling counts to nurturing forests. Assisted natural regeneration, which allows seeds in the soil to sprout and promotes regrowth, costs a fraction of planting and often outperforms it. Global studies reckon that restoring 150 million hectares in this manner could yield 84 billion dollars annually in benefits and create millions of rural jobs.

Land tenure muddies matters further. A tangle of imperial and socialist land laws means many farmers lack secure rights to the trees they raise. With few rewards for survival, households see little reason to tend seedlings after officials leave.

Financial carrots could help. Ghana’s payment-for-environmental-services scheme surged when money flowed directly to smallholders. By treating planting as a civic duty rather than a partnership, Ethiopia’s leaders may undercut local stewardship.

The fundamental question is whether numbers outweigh nature. If 714.7 million exists only on spreadsheets, the exercise is Pyrrhic. Authentic leadership is judged not by saplings flashed on television but by forests that cool rivers, anchor soils, and shelter wildlife decades hence.

Nonetheless, ambition itself is admirable. Few governments can mobilise 20 million volunteers in a single day. Yet, oversized targets risk breeding cynicism and damaging the credibility of the state. A citizen ordered to plant 35 trees under hot skies with scarce water may view the exercise as a chore, rather than a cause.

A wiser path would slow the sprint. Pilot plots should test blends of species, spacing, and after-care. Independent audits at six and 12 months should replace self-congratulation at the end of the week. Spending should favour nurseries, drip irrigation, and extension services over endless procurement.

Above all, communities should obtain legal title to trees they manage, aligning private gains with the public good.

To plant today is to leave shade for grandchildren. But stewarding a forest takes patience, science, and humility. Saplings cannot be rushed like election rallies. Unless leaders exchange stopwatch heroics for steady husbandry, the Green Legacy risks being remembered as a grand count rather than a green canopy.

Machines Are Not Our Friends, Companions

Meta CEO Mark Zuckerberg and OpenAI’s Sam Altman have been aggressively promoting the idea that everyone, children included, should form relationships with AI “friends” or “companions.” Meanwhile, multinational tech companies are pushing the concept of “AI agents” designed to assist us in our personal and professional lives, handle routine tasks, and guide decision-making.

But the reality is that AI systems are not, and never will be, friends, companions, or agents. They are, and will always remain, machines. We should be honest about that and push back against misleading marketing that suggests otherwise.

The most deceptive term of all is “artificial intelligence.” These systems are not truly intelligent, and what we call “AI” today is simply a set of technical tools designed to mimic certain cognitive functions. They are not capable of true comprehension and are neither objective, fair, nor neutral.

Nor are they becoming any smarter. AI systems rely on data to function, and increasingly, that includes data generated by tools like ChatGPT. The result is a feedback loop that recycles output without producing deeper understanding.

More fundamentally, intelligence is not just about solving tasks; it is also about how those tasks are approached and performed. Despite their technical capabilities, AI models remain limited to specific domains, such as processing large datasets, performing logical deductions, and making calculations.

When it comes to social intelligence, however, machines can only simulate emotions, interactions and relationships. A medical robot, for example, could be programmed to cry when a patient cries, yet no one would argue that it feels genuine sadness. The same robot could as easily be programmed to slap the patient, and it would carry out that command with equal precision, and with the same lack of authenticity and self-awareness.

The machine does not “care”; it simply follows instructions. And no matter how advanced such systems become, that is not going to change.

Simply put, machines lack moral agency. Patterns and rules created by people govern their behaviour, whereas human morality is rooted in autonomy, the capacity to recognise ethical norms and behave accordingly. By contrast, AI systems are designed for functionality and optimisation. They may adapt through self-learning, but the rules they generate have no inherent ethical meaning.

Consider self-driving cars. To get from point A to point B as quickly as possible, a self-driving vehicle might develop rules to optimise travel time. If running over pedestrians would help achieve that goal, the car might do so, unless instructed not to, because it cannot understand the moral implications of harming people.

This is partly because machines are incapable of grasping the principle of generalisability, the idea that an action is ethical only if it can be justified as a universal rule. Moral judgment depends on the ability to provide a plausible rationale that others can reasonably accept. These are what we often refer to as “good reasons.” Unlike machines, humans are able to engage in generalisable moral reasoning and can therefore judge whether their actions are right or wrong.

The term “data-based systems” (DS) is thus more appropriate than “artificial intelligence,” as it reflects what AI can actually do: generate, collect, process, and evaluate data to make observations and predictions. It also clarifies the strengths and limitations of today’s emerging technologies.

At their core, these are systems that use highly sophisticated mathematical processes to analyse vast amounts of data, nothing more. Humans may interact with them, but communication is entirely one-way. DS have no awareness of what they are “doing” or of anything happening around them.

This is not to suggest that DS cannot benefit humanity or the planet. On the contrary, we can and should rely on them in domains where their capabilities exceed our own. But we should also actively manage and mitigate the ethical risks they present. Developing human-rights-based DS and establishing an International Data-Based Systems Agency at the United Nations would be important first steps in that direction.

Over the past two decades, Big Tech firms have isolated us and fractured our societies through social media, more accurately described as “anti-social media,” given its addictive and corrosive nature. Now, those same companies are promoting a radical new vision: replacing human connection with AI “friends” and “companions.”

At the same time, these companies continue to ignore the “black box problem”: the untraceability, unpredictability, and lack of transparency in the algorithmic processes behind automated evaluations, predictions, and decisions. This opacity, combined with the high likelihood of biased and discriminatory algorithms, inevitably results in biased and discriminatory outcomes.

The risks posed by DS are not theoretical. These systems already shape our private and professional lives in increasingly harmful ways, manipulating us economically and politically, yet tech CEOs urge us to let DS tools guide our decisions.

To protect our freedom and dignity, as well as the freedom and dignity of future generations, we must not allow machines to masquerade as what they are not: us.

A Shotgun Wedding Awaits Banks as Capital Clock Ticks Down

In 2021, the National Bank of Ethiopia (NBE) doubled the minimum capital requirement for commercial banks to five billion Birr and gave them five years to comply. The countdown will end in June 2026.

Regulators say this policy decision will create stronger financial institutions. Their warning is clear that banks that fall short face forced mergers.

On paper, the logic appears sound. Larger balance sheets and higher capital cushions can support a more stable economy. But in practice, mergers are rarely simple. They require the integration of corporate cultures, governance models, IT systems, and shareholder interests. And they raise difficult questions.

Who sets the valuation? What happens to smaller shareholders? What of employees and branches?

With no clear answers, anxiety spreads from teller lines to trading desks.

For the new generation banks, once symbols of inclusive finance, the mood has shifted. Boardroom chatter has turned from growth targets to survival strategies. Again, the question looms large.

Can they meet the capital requirement in time? Or be absorbed in mergers and acquisitions (M&A)?

The risk is real. Many of these lenders are less than a decade old. They were created to extend credit to underserved areas, backed by regional investors, cooperatives, and the diaspora. They are still earning trust, building their deposit base, and opening branches in places long neglected by the industry’s older and more established players.

If these banks are absorbed hastily, the system may become larger, but it may not necessarily become better. It may, in fact, become narrower.

There is precedent for caution. In other countries that abruptly raised capital thresholds, the result was fewer banks, but not stronger ones. Governance challenges lingered. Integration proved difficult. Operational weaknesses emerged long after the mergers were completed.

Capital matters, but it should not be mistaken for a shortcut to resilience.

Nor do all banks start from the same place. A few are already close to the five billion Birr mark. Others are stable on a day-to-day basis but require new capital. Some are posting losses. Treating them all the same may tick regulatory boxes, but could leave the resulting institutions hollowed out.

The sector’s diversity adds to the risk. Some banks are deeply rooted in local communities, and their customers and staff share a regional identity. That kind of trust does not transfer easily. Merging banks with different cultures and clientele could unsettle employees and savers, the very foundation of the banking industry.

Officials argue that high capital buffers are wise in an economy vulnerable to shocks. The goal is broadly accepted. However, bankers argue that the process lacks clarity.

A credible roadmap should outline how mergers will be selected, how valuations will be determined, and how shareholder disputes will be addressed. Technical assistance is needed to integrate IT systems and branch networks smoothly. Early reassurances should be provided to depositors, employees, and the broader community.

The timing complicates matters further. Ethiopia is opening its financial sector to foreign capital. Larger local banks may be better prepared to compete, but pushing smaller ones into rushed mergers when global brands arrive could make the reform look like a fire sale.

Ethiopians may wonder whether the policy protects local finance, or clears the field for outsiders. The answer lies in how regulators handle the transition.

Reformers argue that action is needed for the sake of stability. But the health of the banking industry will also be judged by how much diversity and public trust it preserves. If June 2026 arrives without a clear plan, the country could be left with fewer and larger banks. They will be better capitalised on paper, but more distant from the rural clients and small businesses, once promised better access to credit.

The choice is clear. Turn consolidation into a careful transition, and the sector may grow stronger. Use a heavy hand, and the effort could do more harm than good. Shrinking for strength is a delicate task. Done right, banks could emerge leaner and fitter. Done wrong, the cure may be worse than the disease.

The choice to enforce a high capital threshold mirrors a global norm, tailored to a vulnerable economy. The goal may be sound. But it is the execution that will determine the outcome. Banks will need help aligning operations without service disruptions, and shareholder conflicts should be resolved early and decisively.

Africa’s Debt Isn’t the Enemy

In a continent long defined by external caution and internal constraint, the prevailing narrative around debt has often been one of fear. But in a recent commentary published in your newspaper headlined, “Africa’s Debt Is an Opportunity,” [Volume 26, Number 1313, June 29, 2025] former Finance Minister Sufian Ahmed offered a timely and necessary intervention.

His message is both subversive and straightforward in that debt is not the enemy. When used wisely, it is a lever for transformation, not a sentence to dependency. This is not mere provocation but instead a grounded argument from someone who managed public finance during Ethiopia’s most ambitious period of state-led development. Sufian knows that Africa’s problems are not the volume of debt, but the quality of its deployment. It is not debt that undermines development, but the failure to extract value from it. And borrowing is not the problem. Borrowing badly is.

Across the continent, debt levels have risen. So too have the alarms, from Bretton Woods institutions, credit rating agencies, and think tanks. Yet, the moral panic often obscures the real issue. African countries remain starved of long-term capital. Tax bases are narrow. Capital markets are thin and aid is volatile while climate shocks are multiplying. Against this backdrop, the idea that Africa should abstain from borrowing borders on fiscal fatalism.

Sufian rightly called for a more strategic posture, one that embraces borrowing to finance productive assets rather than recurrent consumption. Roads, energy systems, irrigation schemes, and logistics corridors are not expenses. They are investments that underpin long-run growth, regional trade, and resilience. Such debt, when properly governed, pays for itself over time.

What is needed is not less borrowing, but smarter borrowing. This entails robust project appraisal, adequate institutional safeguards, and transparent public investment management. It also means improving domestic resource mobilisation, not as a substitute for borrowing, but as a complement to it. A state that cannot tax progressively or spend transparently will struggle to justify even the most concessional debt.

Sufian’s commentary also challenges the international community. Africa’s debt discourse is still filtered through a post-HIPC lens, an IMF initiative in the 1990s, known as the Highly Indebted Poor Countries, where rigid ratios and short-term thresholds measure sustainability. But this misses the point. What matters is not the headline debt-to-GDP figure, but whether borrowing supports economic transformation.

Africa should not be punished for borrowing to invest, especially when richer countries routinely borrow far more to sustain less.

At its core, this is a call for agency. Africa should assert the right to finance its development agenda on its own terms, guided by prudence, yes, but also ambition. The continent’s infrastructure gap, energy deficit, and climate vulnerability will not be closed by austerity. They require bold, deliberate, and well-managed capital flows, some of which should come through debt.

That does not mean ignoring risk. Rising global interest rates, currency mismatches, and governance gaps are real challenges. But the solution is not retreat. To ensure that borrowing aligns with returns and avoids distress, the challenge lies in institutional innovation, such as the establishment of sovereign wealth funds, regional guarantee mechanisms, and enhanced debt transparency.

I find Sufian’s piece a reminder that Africa’s fiscal debate has to move beyond risk aversion and toward strategic realism. The question is not whether to borrow, but how to borrow better. And the answer lies in leadership, not in lectures.

Debt may carry risks. But, as Sufian argued, when channelled with discipline and ambition, it can also carry countries forward. If Africa is to finance its future, it should stop fearing debt, and start mastering it.

Sandford School’s Tax Battle Signals a Reckoning for Nonprofit Sector

When Sandford International School (SIS) opened its doors in Addis Abeba more than seven decades ago, few would have predicted that its largest challenge would come not from the rigours of education but from the tax office.

In recent weeks, the Ministry of Revenues demanded over 129 million Br in back taxes from the School, claiming that its fee-charging operations resemble a commercial enterprise far more than a charitable nonprofit. Its administrators insist that it is a nonprofit entity that reinvests every penny into staff salaries, teaching materials, and campus infrastructure. The dispute has illuminated an ambiguity at the heart of the legal regime for civil society and raised questions.

When does a nonprofit organisation cross the line into taxable business? And when do its educational activities truly serve the public?

Around the world, fee-charging schools, universities, and hospitals often claim charitable status, even as critics question whether large surpluses or high tuition fees undermine any public benefit. Defenders argue that scholarships, reinvestment of revenues, and mission-driven programs justify exemption from income tax. This debate has prompted some governments to carve out narrow definitions for “related business income,” insisting that only trading activity unrelated to an institution’s core mission be taxed.

Other jurisdictions demand evidence of substantial service to underserved communities or cap fee levels to ensure that an institution does not operate solely as a business.

Ethiopia’s civil society, by contrast, has long been muted in its engagement with commercial operations. Most nonprofit organisations rely heavily on foreign grants rather than tuition revenue, and few have chosen to challenge tax notices in court. Sandford may change that pattern.

Registered under the laws governing the activities of charities and society organisations as a charitable entity, Sandford collected fees from parents worth hundreds of millions of Birr over five fiscal years, beginning in July 2018. The tax authority, wielding the Federal Income Tax Proclamation, has argued that all trading revenue, even when aligned with an organisation’s charitable objectives, is taxable at the standard corporate rate.

In the Appeal Office’s decision crushing Sandford’s defence, the panel acknowledged the School’s charitable registration but insisted that its operations closely resemble a private international school.

The ruling stated, “It [Sandford School] doesn’t serve the public or third parties in the charitable sense,” arguing that the nature of activity, such as fee collection, determines tax liability, irrespective of how the proceeds are used.

This confrontation turns on three questions.

Is charging tuition a commercial activity?

Under the commercial laws, the answer is straightforwardly yes. Any entity that collects fees in exchange for services engages in commerce, regardless of the end use of the funds.

Are nonprofits permitted to engage in business?

Here, Ethiopian law is more enlightened. The CSO Proclamation explicitly allows civil society organisations to run lawful businesses or investments to mobilise resources, provided that profits are not distributed to members or founders. In principle, a nonprofit can trade, so long as it channels all earnings back into its mission.

Lastly and most contentious.

Is such income exempt from tax?

The Federal Income Tax Proclamation exempts nonprofit income other than business income that is not directly related to an organisation’s core function. A literal reading suggests that missionrelated trading, such as tuition in exchange for education, should be exempt. But tax officials insist that only “nontrading” income, such as grants and donations, qualifies. The result is any revenue from fee schedules, even if missionaligned, is swept into the businessincome net and taxed accordingly.

The gap between the CSO Proclamation and the Income Tax Proclamation has produced an unresolved tension. The former invites financial innovation, opening civic space that foreign grants have traditionally sealed. The latter treats all earned income as a business, ignoring whether an activity furthers the public good.

Sandford School’s impending court challenge could offer vital clarity. However, regardless of the legal outcome, the case brings to the fore a broader policy question.

How should Ethiopia approach mission-driven commercial activities?

A too narrow interpretation risks penalising nonprofits that innovate to reduce their dependency on volatile foreign funding. Too broad a carveout invites abuse by entities that masquerade as charitable but operate like profit-maximising firms.

Comparative examples may prove instructive.

In the United Kingdom (UK), charities enjoy tax exemption on trading income if it is ‘‘wholly or mainly’’ related to their charitable purposes, and they must demonstrate that any surplus is ploughed back into the mission. In Canada, small business operations incidental to a charity’s objectives can remain untaxed, provided they meet a threshold of size and purpose. Some American states exempt revenue from tuition when fees are used exclusively for educational advancement, but often require detailed reporting on scholarships and public outreach programs.

As foreign funding dwindles and domestic support becomes ever more vital, domestic civil society organisations will need to explore fee structures and social enterprises to sustain their work. But without clear guidance, they face unpredictable tax bills that could threaten budgets or deter experimentation.

Policymakers have several reform options. They could write a definition of “related business income” in tax law, clarifying that revenue from activities directly tied to an organisation’s mission is exempt, so long as profits are reinvested and fees remain reasonable. They could introduce a “cost recovery” exception, where modest charges meant solely to cover expenses are exempt from classification as taxable business income.

Alternatively, they could require nonprofits to report scholarship levels or target populations, tying exemption to demonstrable public benefit rather than legal form.

The Sandford School dispute may prove an unwelcome burden for school administrators and parents who want to focus on learning. However, it presents an opportunity for policymakers to refine the legal architecture and join the ranks of countries that balance fiscal accountability with robust civic engagement. A wellcalibrated approach would preserve public stewardship of charitable law while ensuring that nonprofit organisations have the financial flexibility to innovate, grow and serve communities at scale.

As the Addis Ababa courts prepare to hear arguments, one hope lingers: that Ethiopia emerges with a tax framework that recognises education as a public good, even when delivered in part through feecharging institutions. Otherwise, the country may find that in protecting its revenue base, it has inadvertently choked off the very organisations that deliver vital services to its citizens.

Lines Blur with Parent Lenders, Investment Banking Debut Will Face Credibility Test

The financial sector underwent a decisive shift this year following the National Bank of Ethiopia’s (NBE) issuance of a new licensing and supervision framework for investment banks. Within weeks, CBE Capital staked its claim as the country’s first licensed investment bank, with Wegagen Capital and Awash Investment Bank hot on its heels.

Although the directive (980/2024) demonstrated regulators’ broader push toward economic reform and market liberalisation, globally, it is common for conventional banks to house investment-banking arms as subsidiaries. In markets with mature oversight, these setups can diversify revenue streams, spur cross-selling opportunities and streamline resource use by sharing back-office infrastructure and market data. They also tend to strengthen local capital markets, channelling domestic expertise and liquidity into equity and debt offerings.

The advent of licensed investment banks holds promise for Ethiopia. Properly managed, these institutions could mobilise domestic savings, support corporate expansion and promote a vibrant capital market that attracts foreign investment. But the path to that outcome will require vigilance, institutional rigour and a willingness to learn from international best practices.

In Ethiopia’s still-nascent and fragile financial system, the balance of benefits and risks tips uneasily. The possibility of conflicts of interest looms large when a commercial bank parent and its investment bank offshoot operate under shared leadership. Regulators require limited companies to post a minimum capital of 25 million Br and subsidiaries to post a minimum capital of 100 million Br. In the case of the first, the amount would not buy a three-bedroom apartment in downtown Addis Abeba, let alone underwrite multi-million-dollar transactions.

The disparity should raise questions about whether these fledgling institutions can handle the complexity of mergers and acquisitions (M&A), public offerings, private placements and securities trading.

The earliest test of the investment banking will take place on the Ethiopian Securities Exchange (ESX), where initial listings are slated to feature banks and insurers. Ties between underwriting units and their commercial-bank parents are heavy, threatening to muddy advisory services. If Wegagen Bank board members double as directors at Wegagen Capital, impartiality becomes a luxury. Chinese walls, intended to segregate deal teams from deposit-gathering units, often exist more on paper than in practice, undercutting investor confidence.

Soon, M&A activity is expected to spike as consolidation pressures reshape the banking industry. Yet, borrowers and target companies may hesitate to divulge confidential material to an investment-bank affiliate of a potential suitor, curtailing deal flow or inflating due diligence costs. In jurisdictions where regulatory frameworks are still finding their footing, this tension has derailed transactions and precipitated outsized losses.

Governance overlaps deepen the dilemma. The President of the Commercial Bank of Ethiopia (CBE) also chairs CBE Capital’s board. The Vice Chairperson of Wegagen Capital serves as Wegagen Bank’s board chairperson. Such dual roles could erode the operational independence that investors and clients demand when a bank lends to a corporate shareholder and concurrently underwrites its initial public offering, the risk of insider trading and market manipulation increases, weakening the public trust that underpins every stable banking system.

Banks often count major companies among their shareholders, causing ethical concerns about client concentration. The pressure to list these firms on the ESX, while the same banks stand to profit from underwriting fees, potentially creates a conflict of interest. If those listings falter or fail, the fallout could spill over into the parent banks, shaking depositor confidence and, in a worst-case scenario, precipitating broader financial instability.

Reputational risk, in this context, should be as alarming as capital adequacy. A botched initial public offering (IPO), or an underwriting that misprices risk, could lead to headline news, and not the kind regulators or bank executives would welcome.

Recent history from other emerging markets shows that poorly managed investment-banking operations can amplify systemic vulnerabilities rather than alleviate them.

Bank board directors and senior executives should cultivate genuine operational autonomy for their investment-bank subsidiaries. Separating governance boards, distinct executive teams, and a clear firebreak between commercial and advisory units are some of the precautions they can consider. Hiring seasoned professionals, those who have structured deals and managed risk in established markets, will be crucial.

Regulators, for their part, should move beyond issuing directives on paper and ensure that Chinese walls are enforced in spirit as well as in text. Officials from the Ethiopian Capital Market Authority (ECMA) and the NBE should team up on joint inspections and shared reporting channels. They should also study the experiences of developing economies where weak oversight allowed investment-banking ventures to collapse under the weight of undisclosed conflicts of interest and overextension.

Bringing Joy Back to Life Through Kidney Transplantation

Acıbadem offers a leading adult and pediatric kidney transplant program, with three dedicated centers across Türkiye and over 15 years of experience treating more than 5,000 patients.

The kidney was the first organ to be transplanted. The world’s first successful kidney transplant was performed in 1954, and in Türkiye, it was first performed in 1975. Humans have two kidneys, making kidney donation possible. When a donor gives one of their kidneys, they can continue to live a normal life healthy with the remaining one.

Everyone diagnosed with end-stage kidney disease should be evaluated for kidney transplantation because of the better quality of life and longer life expectancy. Although dialysis can partially compensate for the loss of kidney function, there is no permanent cure for kidney failure other than kidney transplantation. Kidney transplantation is the transfer of a healthy kidney to a person whose kidneys have no activity.

Excellence in Care: Acıbadem Kidney Transplantation Unit

At Acıbadem, we recognize the vital importance of kidney transplantation for both patients and their loved ones. That’s why Acıbadem, with its three specialized kidney transplant centers, provides the highest standard of care to both recipients and donors. Patients from around the world choose Acıbadem for kidney transplantation, drawn by our multidisciplinary approach, extensive experience, advanced surgical techniques, high success rates, and patient-centered care. Acıbadem Kidney Transplantation Unit stands out in many ways:

Outstanding Outcomes: According to global standards, kidney transplant success is measured by both the function of the transplanted kidney and the patient’s survival at one and five years post-surgery. In “Centers of Excellence” recognized in the USA and Europe, these success rates are typically reported as 95% for the first year and 90% for the fifth year. As one of the international reference centers for kidney transplantation, Acıbadem surpasses these benchmarks—with kidney recipient survival rates of 99% in the first year and 95% in the fifth year.

Experience:To date, Acıbadem has successfully performed over 5,000 kidney transplants for patients from around the world. These include pediatric patients, complex cases, and combined kidney-liver transplants.

Comprehensive Care: At Acıbadem Kidney Transplantation Centers, all the specialists, diagnostic tests, and procedures a patient may need are brought together under one roof. Transplant surgeons, nephrologists, and other experts work in coordination as an integrated team to manage every step of the transplant journey from start to finish.

Personalized Approach: Each patient’s treatment journey is meticulously planned and managed to achieve the best possible outcome. If additional treatments or surgeries are needed before or after the transplant, they are carefully planned and shared with the patient.

Living-Donor Experience:At Acıbadem kidney transplantation program primarily relying on living donors. Türkiye holds a significant position globally in the field of living kidney transplantation.More than 3.500 kidney transplants are performed in Türkiye annually, and 85% of them are done with living donors. This number makes Türkiye the first country for living donor kidney transplantations in the world. Living donor transplants offer numerous advantages, including better survival rates, a higher success rate for the surgical procedure, and the elimination of the wait for an organ.

Advanced Surgical Techniques Enhance Donor Comfort

A donor is a healthy individual, and operating on someone in such good health is uncommon in most areas of medicine. However, in organ transplantation, it becomes a necessity. For this reason, we aim to perform the most minimally invasive surgery possible, using fewer and smaller incisions to ensure a quicker and more comfortable recovery for the donor.

At Acıbadem, laparoscopic and robotic surgery are used for the removal of the donor kidney. While open surgery requires an incision of 15-20 cm, minimally invasive techniques allow the kidney to be removed through a 5 cm incision and two small incisions, each about 1 cm.

Moreover, in women, it may be possible to remove the donor’s kidney through the birth canal. In the vaginal removal of a kidney, a laparoscopic instrument is inserted through a 2 cm incision in the patient’s navel, and the kidney is then removed through the vagina. This method can be applied to women who have given birth. This approach allows donors to be discharged within 24 hours after surgery, and most can return to work within a week.

All these minimally invasive approaches imply less bleeding and infection for the patient, as well as less scarring in the area of the surgical wound.

Patient Success Story: A Second Chance at Life

A real patient story can empower parents facing similar situations by demonstrating how meticulous treatment planning improves outcomes.

It is not uncommon for spouses to donate a kidney to one another. While it’s a medical procedure, it’s also an emotional journey—one that deepens the bond between two people who have already shared a lifetime of ups and downs.  A healthy spouse steps forward to donate a kidney, giving their partner with kidney failure a chance to survive. The recipient holds on to life through this act of generosity.

This is exactly what happened to the couple who have been married for 30 years. After the husband was diagnosed with kidney failure, his wife didn’t hesitate to step forward and donate one of her kidneys. The transplant was successfully performed. Soon after, they received another piece of joyful news: they were about to become grandparents. Two years after the transplant surgery, they are now enjoying a healthier life and spending joyful moments with their grandson.

 

A Second Chance at Life: Restoring Happiness for an Ethiopian Family

 

When 48 years old Ethiopian dad, AzmerawAberaGizaw was diagnosed with end-stage kidney failure, his family’s world crumbled. “We felt hopeless,” admits his son Robel Azmeraw, as he recalls those dark days. Their salvation came from an unexpected source – a stranger who had undergone a successful kidney transplant at Turkey’s Acibadem Hospital three years prior.

 

The family’s miracle began when Acibadem’s international team visited Addis Ababa last February. “Meeting the doctors face-to-face changed everything,” Robel explains. His uncle, 50 years old AlemiyeAberaGizaw, immediately volunteered as a donor, but fears lingered. “We thought kidney transplantation was rarely successful thing,” Robel confesses. Those fears vanished when they arrived in Istanbul. From the warm welcome by Amharic speaking staff to the surgeons who patiently explained every step, Acibadem transformed their ordeal into a journey of hope.  Everything went incredibly well.

 

Beyond the exceptional services, they were deeply moved by the extraordinary kindness shown to Alemiye. “They let him stay by my father’s side for seven days instead of sending him home after three,” Robel says. “Today, Azmeraw rediscovered happiness, filled with gratitude for his son and brother, while Alemiye proudly shows his minimal scar – a badge of brotherly love. “Acibadem didn’t just heal my body,” Azmeraw reflects, “Next to God, they healed our whole family with happiness.” Their story stands as a powerful testament to how world-class healthcare can cross continents and change destinies.

Deposit Insurance Fund Grows to 15.1B Br, Signals Readiness for Crisis Response

Two years into its operations, the Ethiopian Deposit Insurance Fund (EDIF) has grown its asset base to 15.1B Br, reinforcing its role as a critical backstop for depositors and financial institutions alike.

The Fund, established under a proclamation by the Council of Ministers, was designed to shield depositors in the event of bank or microfinance collapses. Since its inception, EDIF has focused on collecting premiums from member institutions, investing the funds, and building a system robust enough to manage payout scenarios.

As of June 30, 2025, EDIF has amassed 13.85B Br in total premiums, including 1.21B Br in interest-free contributions. Its portfolio is largely invested in Treasury bills, 13.9B Br, while 1.24B Br has been channelled into Mudarabah, a Sharia-compliant profit-sharing model. These investments have generated 1.3B Br in returns, according to data released by the Fund.

EDIF works with 86 financial institutions across the country. While no payout events have been triggered to date, the Fund says it has the systems in place to respond swiftly if needed.

It also reported close collaboration with the National Bank of Ethiopia (NBE) and other regulators, part of its broader effort to boost public confidence and maintain stability in the financial system.

Rockefellers 100m Dollars Leap into Regenerative Lunches

As part of the UNFSS+4 High-Level Convening, a thematic session titled “Nourishing the Future through Regenerative School Meals” was held on July 26, 2025, at the Sheraton Addis on Taitu St. It brought together prominent figures including Ethiopia’s former Prime Minister Hailemariam Desalegn, former First Lady Roman Tesfaye, and Kenya’s First Lady Rachel Ruto. Organised by the Rockefeller Foundation, the event focused on overhauling child nutrition through regenerative agriculture.

Sarah Farley, Vice President and Global Food Portfolio Lead at the Foundation, called it a “milestone event” marking a shift toward agriculture that reduces greenhouse gas emissions while boosting food quality and soil health. She said the Foundation is reimagining school meal systems in Ethiopia within a broader global food systems agenda.

Farley highlighted the need to integrate school meals into national climate resilience strategies, noting how food security and climate goals are increasingly linked. “Ethiopia has made notable progress since 2019,” she told Fortune, pointing to the national school lunch programme, which now serves six million children and targets 21 million by 2030.

To help reach that goal, the Foundation has pledged $100 million over five years to support the Regenerative School Meals initiative in Ethiopia and other countries. The programme will work with governments, farmers, and partners to develop local financing models. Farley called it a “big bet” on improving child health, resilient food systems, and climate sustainability.

The funding will provide technical support to governments, schools, and farmers, in collaboration with partners like the World Food Programme. Farley said scaling the programme will require a tenfold boost in support from governments, donors, and private investors. She also cited Stanford and University of Wisconsin research showing climate variability is already disrupting fragile supply chains.

ABYSSINIA BANK GOES GREEN

The Bank of Abyssinia has gone all-in on paperless banking, betting that biometric log-ins and touch-free kiosks will save it hundreds of millions of Birr in printing costs while enhancing its green credentials. At the RasPremium Branch inside the Bank’s headquarters on Gambia Street, its President, Bekalu Zeleke, displayed to Central Bank Governor MamoMihretu a live demonstration of the paperless system. Tablets with fingerprint readers and kiosks that operate in seven languages replaced the familiar piles of deposit and withdrawal slips.

“This isn’t simply a facelift,” Bekalu said at the July26, 2025, inauguration. “It’s a rethinking of how we serve. These technologies are designed to be intuitive, secure, and inclusive.”

Customers who need help can still lean on staff for onboarding. A tablet prompts new users to type in a mobile number, then captures a portrait photo and fingerprints. Two selfservice machines handle cash deposits, withdrawals and cheque submissions. A third caters to customers using the Bank’s interestfree products. The upgrade positions the Bank of Abyssinia at the forefront of the domestic banking industry. Nearly 1,000 branches are now entirely paper-free, each equipped with tablets and kiosks (many of the latter are currently on shipment, according to the Bank’s officials), and staff nationwide have already been trained on the new system. According to Bekalu, the transition to entirely paperless operations enables the Bank to maintain its edge as banks race to become faster and more transparent.

Governor Mamo called the move a “milestone” for the industry and warned peers that global competitors will eventually test the market’s openness.

“This is no longer a luxury,” he said. “It’s a survival.”