From Opportunity to Belonging: Vyonna’s Journey Working and Living in Russia

Posted on August 31, 2025August 29, 2025 by Digital Editor

For some, moving is a nightmare, for others it is a true dream, but for Vyonna Rukuno from Kenya it was a step into the unknown, which opened up for her more than she could have imagined: a new profession, friends from different parts of the world, and even a sense of love for winter, which she had previously seen only in films.

How did Vyonna find out about the employment programme at a large Russian company? How did she manage to “feel at home” in a new country? And what stereotypes about Russians turned out to be true? You will find this and much more in our material.

According to Vyonna, the decision to participate in the Alabuga Start programme was made after she accidentally saw the information about the project on the Internet. The opportunity to gain professional skills, build a career without work experience, and learn about another culture seemed promising to her.

The selection process for Alabuga Start included submitting an application on the website, passing business simulations assessing the level of analytics and communication, learning one hundred basic words in Russian, and interviewing an HR specialist of the programme. This was followed by a medical examination, translation of the documents, and waiting for an invitation.

– The whole journey took me about four months. They say it’s faster now, – Vyonna laughs.

The girl admits: having the ticket to Russia in hand, which was paid for by the company, was the very moment when there was no turning back, and new opportunities opened up ahead. In Kazan (the capital of the Republic of Tatarstan – ed. note), Vyonna was met by programme staff and accompanied to Yelabuga, where the Alabuga SEZ is located. This support played an important role in the first days of her stay in Russia, helping her to adapt faster and feel more confident in an unfamiliar environment.

– It was a long flight, with a transfer in Istanbul. But when they meet you at the airport, you realize that you are not a stranger here, – Vyonna says.

Today, Vyonna lives in a corporate hostel with other Alabuga Start participants from different countries: Nigeria, Rwanda, Sri Lanka, Zambia, Sierra Leone, Uganda and Kyrgyzstan.

— It’s like getting to know the whole world in one house, she laughs. We taste each other’s dishes, talk about our countries, and sometimes learn Russian together.

Over time, Vyonna began supporting new participants: showing them the city, accompanying them to the store, sharing tips on household issues and helping them master basic phrases in Russian.

– I remember how everything was new in the early days. Having someone around who has already walked this path is priceless, – she says.

As part of the programme, each participant chooses one of seven fields. Vyonna chose the profession of a production operator, noting that this field provides an opportunity to learn new skills and obtain a demanded profession.

The work schedule includes two days of work and two days of learning Russian language. Every six months, an assessment is conducted, including the test on the knowledge of the Russian language, the participation in corporate games and assessment of production activities.

– During my participation in the programme, I managed to get my first promotion and became a technician. A salary of $ 1,100 is enough for ordinary purchases, and to pay for accommodation in hostels (it costs only $ 44 per month), and there even remains some money for savings, – says Vyonna.

According to the girl, the work was difficult in the first weeks due to the language barrier, but today she is already independently training new employees, sharing her professional knowledge and experience with them.

– At first it was difficult: no one in the brigade spoke English. We communicated by gestures. I’m currently training new employees myself. This is my personal growth and my contribution to the team, – our heroine admits.

In her free time, Vyonna participates in the programme’s activities, including excursions and sports events.

– My friends and I signed up for the Chain Reaction marathon. The first few kilometres were a nightmare, but the finish gave me an incredible feeling of victory, – she smiles.

Before moving, Vyonna had certain ideas about Russia and its inhabitants. According to the girl, she was pleasantly surprised by the openness and friendliness of the people.

– I thought Russians were always serious and a little harsh. But it turned out that they are calm, kind, and open. Winter, which I was afraid of, has become my favourite time of the year. And the autumn here is simply fabulous, – Vyonna shares.

Today, Alabuga Start is open to girls aged 18-22 from 77 countries. The programme offers official employment, professional development under the guidance of experienced mentors, accommodation in corporate hostels and career opportunities. In two years, you can grow up to be a qualified specialist, stay at Alabuga, or continue your studies in Russia.

– I came for the experience, but I found a lot more – friends, a profession and self—confidence, – Vyonna sums up.

You can join the programme at the official website.

DASHEN BANK’S NEW REMITTANCE GATEWAY ENTERS THE RING

Posted on August 31, 2025August 31, 2025 by Digital Editor

At a high-profile event held at the Sheraton Addis last week, the launch of Dashen Bank’s new digital remittance platform was marked by the attendance of notable figures in the financial sector. Mamo Mihretu, governor of the Central Bank; Abie Sano, president of the Commercial Bank of Ethiopia (CBE) and the Ethiopian Bankers’ Association; and Asfaw Alemu, president of Dashen Bank, also the association’s vice president saw the new system of an agency remittance model seamlessly integrated with ET Switch, the national payment switch operated by EthSwitch. The key promise is real-time transfer capability to over 30 domestic banks, with a crucial incentive to banks, including the provision of 100pc upfront foreign currency, a compelling feature in a country besieged by chronic foreign exchange shortages.

GiftEthiopia.com, a novel feature attached to the platform, adds an e-commerce dimension. It allows diaspora users to not only send money but also buy and deliver goods or “gift items” directly to recipients in Ethiopia. This multi-layered offering of foreign currency inflows, e-commerce, and convenience seeks to unlock both emotional and financial capital from the diaspora. However, the Governor issued a sober warning that the informal channels through which much of the diaspora’s remittances flow pose an “existential risk” to macroeconomic stability. The new platform appears to be targeting these parallel market routes squarely by offering competitive convenience and transparency, rather than relying solely on regulatory enforcement.

The system’s architecture, a unified gateway for multiple international money transfer operators (IMTOs), is designed to address one of the most frequent customer complaints of a lack of flexibility and high fees. Asfaw (left) and Abie (right) echoed these sentiments, positioning the platform as an industry-wide response to structural inefficiencies and consumer dissatisfaction.

Will Community Health Insurance Falter Under Its Ambitious Weight?

Posted on August 31, 2025August 30, 2025 by Digital Editor

For Germans, Otto von Bismarck is first remembered as the architect of a unified nation. However, his lesser-known stroke of statecraft continues to have a lasting impact on the world. In 1883, he introduced the world’s first compulsory health insurance law. For Bismarck, it was not altruism as he sought to curb the rise of socialist agitators by guaranteeing a modest income for workers who were sick or injured. Medical coverage, to him, was almost beside the point.

Ethiopia, 128 years later, turned to community-based insurance for a different reason than ideology. In the late 2000s, too many families were selling cattle, pulling children from schools or sinking into debt to pay medical bills, and too many stayed home and died for lack of access to health services. Faced with grim statistics, the ruling Revolutionary Democrats, some of whose leaders were fans of the German leader, adopted a plan that drew inspiration from Bismarck’s legacy but charted its own course.

The community-based health insurance (CBHI) scheme began quietly in 2011, initially confined to 13 weredas scattered across the highlands and lowlands. The design was disarmingly simple. Each household paid a flat annual premium (currently 1,400 Br, equivalent to less than 10 dollars in last week’s exchange rate) and could then visit any public clinic or hospital. The federal government chipped in subsidies and covered the poorest individuals outright. In theory, one modest payment would link millions of rural and informal-sector workers to a safety net.

Ambition soon outran geography. In under a decade, the scheme spread to almost all 832 districts. Close to 32 million people, around a quarter of Ethiopians, are now enrolled. Ideally, they enjoy access to more than 1,900 health centres, nearly 250 hospitals and a small but growing list of private pharmacies to ease drug shortages. Insured patients make more than twice as many trips to facilities as their uninsured neighbours.

Catastrophic out-of-pocket spending, once a grim rite of passage for families facing illness, has fallen among the insured. Total consultations have tripled since 2015, while surveys find that fewer households are pushed into poverty by illness.

Nonetheless, success masks strain on a national program now estimated to be worth close to 50 billion Br.

The most obvious problem is money. CBHI was deliberately designed with low and affordable premiums, which, although politically popular, may be economically shaky. The annual contribution is well below the actual cost of care. With health needs rising and coverage expanding, the scheme is, in effect, paying out more than it takes in. Last year, for every Birr collected in premiums, the system paid nearly twice as much in claims. The gap is papered over by government subsidies, but with the state budget already stretched thin and donor funding uncertain, this is not a situation that can endure indefinitely.

Already, several district-level schemes have teetered on the brink of bankruptcy.

Participation in the scheme remains voluntary. Young and healthy families often opt out, leaving a pool that is older, sicker and costlier, a textbook case of adverse selection. Renewal rates are around 82pc, but in some districts, one household in five quietly drops out each year.

The flat-rate premium, once praised for simplicity, now distorts incentives. A family of eight pays the same as a childless couple, so larger (and usually poorer) households consume more care for less money. Policymakers tout sliding-scale fees tied to income or head-count, but fear sticker shock. Policymakers who designed the scheme promise broad coverage on a shoestring, a fiscal tightrope that Rwanda avoided by subsidising the very poor and mandating contributions, driving coverage above 80pc.

Geography, too, works against easy solutions. The country is vast, with mountain ranges, deserts, and forests dividing its people. In some regions, health centres are too far away, or too poorly staffed, to be of use. In others, recent conflict or political unrest has disrupted both health service delivery and insurance enrollment.

In well-served districts, enrollment tops 60pc; in remote pastoral areas, it lags badly. In Sidama Regional State, slightly more than one-third of women are insured; in the Central Shoa Zone of Amhara Regional State, the share is nearly double. These disparities uncover deeper inequalities of income, education, infrastructure, and trust. The result is a patchwork of progress and neglect.

Clinics groan under demand. Outpatient visits per member increased from fewer than one per year in 2011 to more than two by 2024. Stock-outs of medicines are routine. There are only 0.2 doctors per 1,000 people, a tenth of Europe’s average.

Insurance survives by pooling risk widely and pricing coverage at or near the actual cost. The domestic insurance pool is patchy, and CBHI will likely stay fragile, and its benefits will be spread too thinly, while its burdens will be borne by those least able to pay.

Officials discuss mandatory enrollment for the informal sector, merging the CBHI with a future social insurance plan for salaried workers, and implementing digital payments to reduce fraud. Pilot schemes test income-based premiums. These are all sensible ideas, on paper. But policy pronouncements are not enough. What the scheme needs now would be a dose of realism, an honest reckoning with its own limits. Premiums should reflect the true cost of care, even if that means politically unpopular increases.

The flat-rate family premium should be rethought, replaced by a system that balances fairness, affordability, and fiscal discipline. Most of all, participation needs to be broadened, ideally, made universal, so that the risks and rewards are shared across the entire population, not the compliant or the unlucky.

The more urgent need is transparency, as data on the scheme is hard to come by. The Ethiopian Health Insurance Agency (EHIA), a federal agency responsible for such a vast task, still lacks a functioning website, which fuels a decline in trust. Insurance, after all, is a social contract. Citizens pay now for protection later only if they believe the system will be there when illness strikes.

Infrastructure should keep pace. More clinics, better equipment, and thousands of extra health workers would help prevent queues from lengthening and drugs from running out. Without that push, insurance risks become a promise honoured in theory, resented in practice.

The lesson from Bismarck’s Germany, and modern peers such as Rwanda, should be self-evident. Universal coverage demands compulsory participation, actuarial honesty and steady investment. Ethiopia has demonstrated that a developing country can enrol millions into a health insurance pool. The question is whether it will fortify the pool before its walls crack.

CBHI has already made illness less ruinous and care more accessible. But it is also a leap of faith teetering on thin financial ice. Raise premiums to match costs, redesign the flat fee, widen the risk pool, and invest heavily in clinics. Policymakers could then demonstrate that collective action can indeed level the odds between town and countryside, as well as between the rich and the poor. Fail, and CBHI may join the long list of well-meant reforms that faltered under the weight of their own ambition.

Ethio telecom’s Dividend Plan Draws Ire as Shareholders Wait

Posted on August 31, 2025September 2, 2025 by Digital Editor

Ethio telecom, one of the long-standing state-owned monopolies, has publicly committed to paying dividends to individual shareholders.

Under the three-year “Next Horizon: Digital & Beyond 2028” strategy, the company plans to distribute a total of 111.3 billion Br in dividends, with 35.4 billion Br targeted for the current fiscal year. The announcement, made by CEO Frehiwot Tamiru, represents a symbolic break from the era of exclusive government ownership and signals a bid to cultivate both domestic and foreign investor confidence in the telecom sector.

“Achieving this goal, however, will require substantial effort,” said Frehiwot, unveiling her new strategy last week at the Science Museum, on Menelik II Avenue.

The company’s change in approach comes after it was converted from a public enterprise into a joint share company in June 2024, following the revised Commercial Code. It offered 10pc of its shares to domestic investors, selling 10.7 million ordinary shares over a 121-day window. A total of 47,377 citizens took part in the offering.

In total, 100 million shares were put on sale at 300 Br each, with investors allowed to buy between 33 and 3,333 shares. According to company data, 712 investors bought between 3,001 and 3,333 shares, while 33 investors purchased shares at the lowest bracket.

Despite the enthusiasm, shares have yet to be formally certified by regulators more than 10 months after the public offering closed. Frehiwot disclosed to Fortune that certification is expected soon, but until then, new shareholders will not be eligible to receive dividends.

The delay has left many investors frustrated and sparked a broader debate about the credibility of the emerging capital market.

Dakito Alemu (PhD), an associate professor of finance at Addis Abeba University and one of the more than 47,000 shareholders, has become a vocal critic of the process. He cited the Ethiopian Capital Market law for stipulating that shareholders get recognised as owners within three months and are eligible to receive profits soon after.

“Instead, our money has been tied up for months,” Dakito said.

He argued that Ethio telecom continues to use investors’ funds without bearing interest.

“If that is the case, we should either consider it a loan and receive interest, or the company should pay dividends by allocating shares to the remaining subscribers,” he said.

Dakito called the company’s claim that shareholders are “not yet owners” illogical and unlawful.

“We fulfilled our obligations, paid, and registered, yet the company has failed to make us legal owners,” Dakito said. “ECMA has failed to defend investor rights. It should have intervened to defend our rights. This lack of enforcement damages trust in the emerging capital market.”

Citing the Commercial Code, Dakito argued that if shares are not allotted or funds are not refunded within the required timeframe, the company should return the money with interest at the effective market rate.

“If shares aren’t legally allocated to investors who paid ten months ago, who will receive 2024/25 dividends? Shareholders deserve answers,” Dakito said.

Segni Ambaw (DVM), a veterinarian and another shareholder, echoed those concerns. He reckoned that Ethio telecom’s prospectus clearly stated that investors would be recognised as legal owners within three months. Segni believes shareholders should receive dividends in the fiscal year ending 10 months later.

“What is happening now undermines our confidence,” Segni said. “I invested with high hopes, but now question the credibility of the market itself. I have serious doubts about the viability of the entire capital market.”

Tilahun Girma, a financial policy analyst and country manager at PKF Global, applauded Ethio telecom for the share sale but criticised the company for failing to certify shareholders and distribute dividends. He called the delay inappropriate and possibly unlawful.

“Since the number of shareholders is manageable, the company should have formally made them owners and issued their certificates,” he told Fortune. “Dividend benefits should start accruing three months after purchase.”

He suggested the inaction may be deliberate, intended to withhold profits, and accused the ECMA of violating its own law by remaining silent. “By law, shareholders should have been recognised and paid profits within three months. ECMA’s inaction undermines both the law and investor confidence,” he said.

According to Tilahun, shareholders could have earned better returns by keeping their funds in banks, arguing that investors have lost ownership rights, the opportunity to share in profits, the right to participate in assemblies, and the ability to be represented. He warned that the situation erodes Ethio telecom’s reputation, raises doubts over the appetite for remaining shares, and could discourage foreign investors.

Tilahun urged shareholders to organise and file formal complaints with ECMA and, if ignored, to take the matter to court.

Attempts by Fortune to obtain comment from the Authority have gone unanswered.

Despite the regulatory standoff, Ethio telecom has reported robust financial results. In the fiscal year ended last month, the company generated revenues of 162 billion Br, a nearly 75pc jump from the previous year, achieving 99pc of its annual target. It disbursed 12 billion Br in dividends to the federal government, although it did not clarify whether these came from current profits or reserves.

The company is targeting 235.8 billion Br in revenue for the current year, a 45.6pc increase, and expects 40pc of income to come from non-traditional services. Contributions from the internet and voice are projected to account for nearly half of revenues, with international services, device sales, enterprise offerings, Telebirr, infrastructure sharing, and other services making up the rest.

Telebirr, Ethio telecom’s mobile money service, is forecast to grow its user base by 14pc to 62.5 million, with transaction values expected to reach 4.43 trillion Br and transaction volumes to hit 1.94 billion. Revenue from Telebirr is projected at 8.5 billion Br, nearly double the amount from last year. It is projected to hit 75 million users, processing 21.3 trillion Br in transaction value and 10.4 billion in volume. Its revenue alone is expected to reach 49.1 billion Br, with nearly one million merchants and 840,000 agents.

Ethio telecom also aspires to get an EBITDA margin of 47.7pc, a financial metric that measures a company’s operating profitability as a percentage of its total revenue. Its pre-tax profit of 76 billion Br is projected to exceed three times last year’s total, with a profit margin of 22.6pc. The company expects to contribute 70.9 billion Br in taxes and 35.4 billion Br in dividends this year. Over the next three years, it anticipates revenue of 842.3 billion Br, representing a 154pc increase from the previous three-year period.

Its total assets are projected to reach 851 billion Br, with foreign currency revenue at 976 million dollars. Tax contributions over the period are forecast at 253 billion Br, with dividend payouts reaching 111.3 billion Br.

However, these are plans pundits say pinned on hope rather than realism.

“Hope is not a strategy,” Aminu Nuru, a financial expert based in Doha, Qatar, posted on his Facebook page. “Unrealistic and overstretched plan brings more harm than good. Stakeholders find it difficult to take it seriously. It makes [the strategy] meaningless.”

Frehiwot, speaking at last week’s press briefing, sought to shift the conversation to the broader strategic goals of the company. According to her, the new plan is about more than continuity, aiming to redefine Ethio telecom’s role in shaping the digital future of Ethiopia and extending inclusive growth across Africa. The company wants to become “globally competitive, regionally diversified, and digitally empowered.”

The CEO attributed Ethio telecom’s role in supporting the Digital Ethiopia initiative to its network, customer base, acquisition capacity, and growing portfolio of services spanning from connectivity and fintech to cloud, data centres, cybersecurity, and smart cities.

By 2028, Ethio telecom plans to expand 4G LTE Advanced coverage to 85pc of the country, launch services in 550 additional towns, and build 1,228 new mobile sites, including 322 in rural areas. The company also intends to roll out 5G in 10 more cities, increasing the number of sites from 315 to 490, and boost capacity by 7.6 million to reach 112.4 million subscribers. Ethio telecom expects to reach 100 million customers by the end of the three-year strategy, including 67.3 million mobile broadband and 1.6 million fixed broadband users.

Private Colleges Face Reckoning Under Tough New Standards

Posted on August 31, 2025September 1, 2025 by Digital Editor

Federal education officials have issued a stern warning to private colleges, where a large number of institutions are at risk of losing their permits if they fail to meet tough new standards introduced under a 2024 Licensing Re-Registration Directive.

Imposing a tight deadline, officials of the federal Education & Training Authority (ETA) have given colleges six months to comply or face closure.

The crackdown, announced at a press briefing last week at the Ministry of Education, up at Arat Kilo, comes after growing concerns over the quality and regulation of private higher education. According to Hiwot Assefa, CEO of Higher Education Licensing at ETA, the directive was designed to establish a uniform licensing system and ensure that authorities have accurate data on institutions operating in the sector.

The new directive represents a major shift for colleges that, for years, have operated with relatively loose oversight. The changes require private universities to own or rent entire buildings dedicated solely to education. Henceforth, they will no longer be permitted to share facilities with other businesses. Institutions are also required to employ doctoral holders as instructors and administrators, and they should deliver tangible results; at least one-third of students need to pass the national exit exam.

Of the 375 private institutions expected to re-register nationwide, only 290 submitted applications last year, while 85 chose to withdraw from the process altogether, transferring their students to other institutions. In the capital, 75 institutions, 112 campuses, and 556 programs have successfully met the first registration requirement. However, the results of field inspections proved disappointing for regulators. After three rounds of assessments, only three institutions, three campuses, and 17 academic programs were found to meet all the requirements for full accreditation.

“The first round of field evaluation yielded shocking results,” Hiwot told reporters. “Many institutions failed to meet even the minimum requirements.”

Consequently, 25 institutions that had made partial progress were granted a one-year grace period to address shortcomings. Another 62 institutions received a six-month extension, but with the caution that non-compliance would result in the loss of their licenses.

Private colleges have pushed back, voicing alarm over what they say are unrealistic deadlines and impractical requirements. According to Tefera Gebeyehu, general manager of the Ethiopian Private Higher Education Institutions Association (EPHEIA), the standards were simply unattainable within the provided time frames. He could find it difficult to see the feasibility of colleges offering health programs, building their own hospitals, which is now a requirement, within a year.

“The directive is unachievable,” he argued. “Some rules do not directly improve teaching quality yet remain mandatory.”

Tefera also criticised the process for its lack of consultation, urging education authorities to reconsider some of the tougher requirements.

But education officials have refused to back down. Minister of Education Berhanu Nega (Prof.) insisted that quality, not protecting underperforming institutions, was his government’s main concern. He claimed that the Ministry had consulted with private schools over the past three years, and those that failed to improve should not expect to stay open.

“From now on, it will not be possible to set up something on a rented floor and call it a college,” he said. “Ethiopia cannot afford to repeat the mistakes of the past three decades.”

The Minister also dismissed fears that the closures could trigger a national crisis.

“Our concern is that students shouldn’t be awarded degrees without receiving proper education,” he said.

The stricter requirements have triggered worries among college leaders, who say the reforms could drive some institutions out of business and limit access to higher education for students in Addis Abeba, where demand is high. Zelealem Belay, representing Yared Industrial, Technology & Business College, found the deadlines too short for most colleges to realistically comply.

“By setting standards that cannot be met, are we not depriving students of the opportunity to learn?” he asked.

Despite pledges by the Minister that public universities would also be held to the same standards and face closure if they failed to comply, for some, the changes seem to set the bar higher than even they can reach.

Samson Zerihun of Zemen Postgraduate College acknowledged the need for re-registration but questioned the practicality of some rules. He is worried that a dean’s office, required to be between 20Sqm and 40Sqm would force many colleges to construct entirely new facilities. He also attributed the challenge of recruiting enough full-time PhD instructors to the small number of qualified professionals in Ethiopia and the reluctance among academics to accept full-time contracts.

Unity University President Arega Yirdaw (PhD) noted another difficult provision. The rule requires that instructors who have been working overseas must be accredited, Arega believes some have found the process difficult.

“This isn’t something that can be achieved in one year or even six months,” he said, calling on regulators to be more realistic.

At ETA, officials have responded by defending the new rules and the speed at which they are being applied.

Ahmed Abtew (PhD), the authority’s director general, echoed the Education Minister’s position. He warned that, unlike colleges given one-year extensions, those with six-month deadlines posed more serious risks to quality.

“Let’s change what needs to be changed,” Ahmed said. “If it doesn’t work, we’ll redirect resources to another sector.”

Woubshet Tadele, ETA’s deputy director general in charge of licensing and quality audit, argued that many requirements had already been relaxed to reduce the burden on colleges. He claimed most standards could be met within six months to a year if schools were serious about making changes, though he left the door open for additional time in special cases. Addressing concerns about the shortage of PhD instructors, Woubshet said schools should either support current staff in obtaining advanced degrees or suspend programs that lack qualified faculty.

“If there are no teachers, there should be no program,” he said. “Standards cannot be compromised.”

This is a voice amplified by Alemayehu Teklemariam (Prof.), a lecturer at Addis Abeba University (AAU). He argued that universities unable to meet the new standards should either change their line of business or suspend specific programs until they can comply.

“If they can’t employ PhD-holding instructors, they should stop offering those courses until they can meet the requirements,” he said.

According to education officials, the new directive will soon be applied to public universities, pursuing to improve quality, increase accountability, and set a higher standard for all institutions.

Education experts have largely supported the move. Alemayehu blamed many private colleges for having contributed to declining standards and described the officials’ actions as overdue.

“The Authority should have taken this decision earlier,” he said.

Alemayehu believes that public universities in peripheral regions have outperformed many private institutions in Addis Abeba on national exit exams. He urged parents to be cautious when selecting colleges, warning that school closures often leave students stranded.

“If a school is forced to shut down, students are left in a difficult situation,” he said. “However, it is still better for them to attend classes in a qualified institution rather than continue in one that is unfit.”

One such affected student is Sitra Nasser, a third-year accounting student enrolled at a private university. She was shocked to hear that her college might be closed. She already went through one closure, when Harambe University shut down, forcing her to transfer and scramble to get her documents in order.

“It was so difficult to get my documents on time,” she told Fortune. “Without them, I couldn’t even get a student ID card at my new school.”

Sitra pleaded for the ETA to consider the plight of students like her.

“Students are the ones who pay the real price,” she said. “It’s frustrating and costly.”

EIC’s Financials Soar on Investment Income, Despite Record Claims

Posted on August 31, 2025September 3, 2025 by Digital Editor

The Ethiopian Insurance Corporation (EIC) delivered a robust pre-tax profit of 1.98 billion Br, comfortably surpassing its target. The performance was largely underpinned by a substantial 1.27 billion Br in investment income, representing a nearly 75pc increase year-on-year, alongside strong underwriting results of over three billion Birr. Gross premiums hit 13.3 billion Br, growing by more than 50pc from the previous year.

Notably, 97pc of premiums were from general insurance, with the remainder from life insurance, demonstrating the continued underdevelopment of the life segment in the insurance market.

The Chief Executive Officer (CEO), Abel Tadesse, disclosed that the state-owned insurance firm’s gross profit exceeded the annual plan by almost two percent and increased by nearly one-fifth compared to the previous year.

Despite the growth, customer retention was only 58pc, which management recognised as a weakness.

Claims expenses increased sharply. EIC paid out 6.56 billion Br in compensation, more than double the amount paid out the previous year. This was fueled by inflation, higher spare parts and garage costs, as well as a rise in medical reimbursements. For every 100 Br collected in premiums, the company paid out 58 Br in claims. Reinsurance covered around seven percent of these losses, leaving a net loss ratio of 51pc. Although unpaid claims were 3.8 billion Br, this was an improvement from the previous year.

Mengistu Meharu, chief of customer service, attributed the spike in claims not only to rising prices, but also to increased traffic accidents and the settlement related to Ethiopian Airlines Flight 302.

The crash in March 2019, shortly after take-off from Bole International Airport, killed all 157 people on board. Addis Abeba itself continues to face road safety challenges. Police reported 400 road traffic deaths last year, slightly above the recent average. A study covering 2018 to 2020 documented 1,274 fatalities, or about 425 each year, with more than four-fifths of victims being pedestrians. Most crashes involved speeding light vehicles on median-divided roads.

According to Mengistu, surging property values also pushed payouts higher. The gross loss ratio, which was 46pc last year, worsened as a result. The biggest clients for EIC remain Ethiopian Airlines, BGI Ethiopia, and Ethiopian Electric Power.

Even as industry-wide premiums grew by 45pc to reach 41.1 billion Br, EIC increased its market share to 32.5pc, up more than two points from the previous year.

Inflation, currency depreciation, and rising healthcare costs have put pressure on customers and the company’s own costs.

Regulators are also stepping in. The National Bank of Ethiopia (NBE) issued a directive in 2023 setting minimum tariffs for motor insurance at 3.5pc of a private vehicle’s value, 4.5pc for commercial vehicles, five percent for taxis, and up to six percent for long-distance trucks. Insurers who break the rule risk fines, warnings, or having their licenses revoked. International standards consider a net loss ratio of 70pc to be healthy, a benchmark echoed by regulators, though EIC’s net loss ratio is much lower.

General insurance premiums now face a 15pc VAT, while life and health insurance remain exempt. Industry sources say that this move could suppress demand among price-sensitive retail customers, particularly for products that have yet to establish a foothold in the broader market.

As of June 2024, the insurance industry held total assets of nearly 27.5 billion Br. However, insurance remains a relatively minor part of the financial system, accounting for only four percent of the financial sector’s assets, compared to banking, which controls 96pc of sector assets.

The insurance industry is expected to reach around 800 branches by mid-2024 and surpass 20 billion Br in total capital. However, the industry remains highly fragmented, with a large number of small players competing for market share. Penetration in the broader economy is strikingly low, measured at 0.3pc of GDP in 2022. The motor insurance line, which covers about 45pc of gross written premiums, illustrates the industry’s narrow focus and urban orientation.

However, the Corporation’s grip on the industry has not insulated it from criticism.

Mekonnen Gebrewahid, a consultant with two decades of experience in the insurance industry. commended EIC for its “strong performance.” However, he cautioned for a thorough examination of expense ratio to better understand the profit result given the low claims ratio. According to Mekonnen, premium rate revisions could make EIC less competitive if problems in claims and underwriting are not addressed, citing issues such as exaggerated claims.

He also stated that health insurance tends to be unprofitable across the industry, as it is impacted by wasteful spending, such as unnecessary prescriptions, while premiums remain low. He urged EIC to tighten controls and develop a more commercial mindset.

EIC’s owner, Ethiopian Investment Holdings (EIH), has set strategic priorities for the firm, focusing on transformation programs that include digitalisation, improved operational processes, and expanding the customer base to attract more private clients. EIC is planning new initiatives in corporate governance, human resources, and efficiency to address these challenges and reinforce its lead in the industry.

Its CEO, Abel, recognised the strains on profitability and disclosed that premium rates would need to be adjusted. He also admitted weaknesses in risk management, which he said would be addressed.

“Spare parts, garages, and medical reimbursements are becoming increasingly expensive,” Abel said. “We need to adjust our strategies accordingly.”

Authorities’ Crackdown Jolts Small Businesses During Regulatory Blitz

Posted on August 31, 2025August 31, 2025 by Digital Editor

The private sector is under unprecedented scrutiny as federal trade officials launch one of its most extensive enforcement drives in recent memory. Framed as a response to rampant non-compliance, the crackdown has already swept up nearly half a million businesses across the country, igniting concerns among businesses, economists, and business associations.

A recent announcement by officials of the Ministry of Trade & Regional Integration (MTRI), under Kassahun Gofe, revealed that approximately one in every six traders was found to be breaking rules, with more than 480,000 businesses facing administrative and legal penalties. The moves mark a fresh effort by the government to impose order in a market often beset by shifting regulations, rising costs, and falling consumer demand.

The Ministry’s findings were made public at the Ethiopian Quality Award Organisation’s “Quality Village,” a symbolic backdrop on Megenagna Ring Road, where the new data revealed both the scale of the problem and the authorities’ desire to be seen acting decisively. The Ministry’s inspectors claim that 15pc of registered businesses were not following the rules after recent inspections. Penalties ranged from warnings to outright licence cancellations.

In total, 285,323 businesses received forewarning letters, 171,095 were closed and sealed, while 2,965 lost their trade licences altogether.

The capital serves as a case in point for the current turbulence in the trading environment. In the city, officials cancelled almost 30pc of the licences in circulation. While more than 99,000 new licences were issued in the past year, over 37,000 were cancelled, evident signs of an unstable and fast-changing retail environment. Contraband remains a serious concern for trade officials in Addis Abeba, especially around essentials like cooking oil and fuel.

During the recent crackdown, authorities reported recovering 8.6 million Br worth of contraband goods. Enforcement officers also claim to have found more than 36,000 businesses trading illegally, with nearly half of them failing to renew their licences.

The realities behind these numbers come into focus in stories like that of Kalkidan Feleke, a young businesswoman who started selling shirts, tote bags and trousers online a year ago. Digital platforms like TikTok and Telegram offered her an affordable way to break into the business, but she soon realised customers still want to see products in person.

“I rented a shelf for 2,000 Br in a shop,” she told Fortune. “That way, I avoid the burden I might face at the early stage of the business.”

For Kalkidan, the costs of going fully legal are still out of reach. Near Megenagna, a small space she wanted to rent was 30,000 Br a month.

“Given that the nature of my business is not daily consumption, I prefer to collect capital gradually before considering a full shop,” said Kalkidan. “It’s been five months since I rented a shelf for display.”

VAT, taxes and soaring rental prices make it nearly impossible for small traders like her to go fully above board from day one.

However, business leaders say the challenges extend beyond simply complying with the law.

According to Sebsib Abafira, president of the Ethiopian Chamber of Commerce & Sectoral Association, the authorities should build awareness before stepping up enforcement. The Chamber, he said, does not defend those engaged in illicit activities, and is working to train auditors and accountants about the new tax rules. But he is also critical of the pace of reforms.

“The traders have less knowledge about how tax works,” Sebsib told Fortune. “Our role is to create awareness and provide training for our members.”

The pressure on traders is felt across the country. In Dire Dawa, local authorities found nearly 28,000 traders that allegedly failed to renew their licences, and seized expired goods worth over 300,000 Br. The illicit sale of fuel generated 19.4 million Br for the region, while confiscated goods in Dire Dawa were valued at 1.6 billion Br, by far the highest of any regional state. Local businesses that broke the rules were penalised half a billion Birr.

Aminu Teha, head of the city’s Trade, Industry & Investment Bureau, raised concerns about traders using railway lines to transport coffee for export, a practice currently allowed only for livestock. According to Aminu, such loopholes can undercut local regulations.

Elsewhere, the Southern region reported penalties totalling 19.5 million Br, mostly tied to the illicit fuel trade. Nearly nine million Birr in revenue was raised from these cases, and regional officials confiscated goods worth 21.9 million Br. Out of approximately 133,000 registered traders, 14pc were allegedly caught engaging in illegal activities, resulting in fines totalling 53.1 million Br. In the Amhara Regional State, illicit trade remains a major headache for the local authority.

Fetenaw Fetene, head of the regional Trade Bureau, blamed recurrent security problems for making it difficult to keep a lid on crime and illegal trading.

“Traders attempting to inflate prices beyond officially set levels had also faced penalties,” he said.

Fetenaw admitted the Bureau struggled to monitor businesses in 2023 due to instability, with 15,000 licences cancelled and 109,000 penalised, about a third for operating without proper paperwork. The Bureau raised 24.1 million Br from expired goods and 85.6 million Br in penalties, not counting cases involving fuel. Authorities plan to establish seven new trade houses, with a budget of half a billion Birr, and encourage more direct sales between farmers and consumers to reduce illicit trade.

At the national level, penalties for illicit trading reached almost two billion Birr. The federal government itself penalised 110,000 traders, confiscated nearly 1.2 million litres of fuel for sale on the parallel market and resold it for 118 million Br, in addition to collecting 40 million Br in fines. However, these measures have not alleviated the deeper financial strains. Officials admitted that unpaid dues from fuel subsidies have now reached 201.6 billion Br. Although federal authorities had planned to slash subsidies by 94pc last year, a sharp drop in the currency forced them to backtrack, and costs ended up tripling.

For many retailers, the strain is proving too much.

According to Sani Tuki, an investment consultant and international trade adviser, frequent policy shifts and high taxes have driven many traders into a state of survival.

“Importing is still insufficient,” he noted, pointing out that minimum export prices set by the Ministry have driven up domestic costs and cut profits, especially in industries like leather. “They stay inactive until demand recovers.”

Sani argued that unpredictable policies, bureaucratic delays and inflation have squeezed businesses on all sides. He called for more careful engagement with traders before introducing new rules, and recommended boosting export and farm subsidies.

“Exporters should retain up to 70pc of their foreign exchange earnings, rather than the current 50pc,” he said.

In Digital Hustle, Fragile Trust Cashless Future on a Tipping Point

Posted on August 31, 2025August 31, 2025 by Digital Editor

Desalegn Banksira sits behind the counter of Tsione Bar & Restaurant, near the Lancha area, thumbing through slips of paper that pass for proof of payment. More and more of his customers prefer to settle their bills through mobile apps, yet his patience with digital money is wearing thin.

“Some customers come with receipts that were paid to another business,” he said with a weary shrug, explaining that even the family’s chain of nightclubs is used to the same hustle.

Screenshots now carry more weight than verbal promises, and QR images are the go-to evidence for servers. Even so, disputes abound. A handful of patrons have stormed out, claiming they lost their phones while staff checked transfer confirmations, only to trumpet their escape on social media. That growing mistrust is turning larger retailers away from mobile money altogether.

These tensions come at a delicate moment for the local payment system. More than half a dozen gateways are on trial under the National Bank of Ethiopia (NBE), filing bi-weekly reports on transaction volumes and software tweaks. Approvals arrive, yet licences can just as quickly be yanked back. Last week, Fenan Pay Solutions S.C. became the newest operator to win a commercial permit, while Sunpay Financial Solutions S.C. endured the opposite fate after months of boardroom bickering and compliance failures.

Licensed in January 2022 for gateway and point-of-sale services, Sunpay secured a two-month window to pilot its technology, draft internal policies and train its managers. None of that happened. On August 27, 2024, the NBE revoked its permit, citing breaches of the National Payment System law. Sunpay never launched operations, never named a functioning chief executive officer and never renewed its paperwork despite repeated nudges.

Incorporated with 13.47 million Br capital raised from 10 investors, each pledging between 260,000 Br and 1.95 million Br, the company had named KirubelawitSahilu as CEO in its licence files. But, the lights never came on, leaving regulators to shut the doors and sparking fresh legal skirmishes.

Other aspirants remain in a central-bank sandbox. PawaPay Digital Financial Services S.C., Cashflow Financial Technologies S.C., LakiPay Financial Technologies S.C., and StarPay Financial Services S.C. all send their fortnightly updates, hoping for the green light. Cashflow, launched with a three-million Birr capital, is still pursuing commercial approval before raising additional funds. Its Chief Executive Officer, Abel Gebreananya, says his founding group, all quiet technologists with a knack for enterprise software, prefers to remain anonymous for now.

LakiPay offers a different profile. The brainchild of Habtamu Tadesse, who previously built and sold ArifPay, the firm opened with 99 million Br in seed funds and has already requested a full review from the NBE. Habtamu expects to achieve commercial status by the end of the month and plans to target medium-sized businesses, although he admits that the real honey pot lies with betting companies that generate high-volume and high-margin traffic.

“We had to teach everyone one by one,” he told Fortune, bemoaning the scarcity of skilled staff and the yawning gap between mobile-money know-how and gateway expertise.

Bank system integrations, which are meant to wrap up in days, sometimes drag on for months.

EagleLion System Technology demonstrates the breadth of those ambitions.

Founded on 15 million Br in capital, the firm has crafted an array of digital tools. DubePay, its flagship partnership with Dashen Bank, lets merchants offer credit sales and track receivables. Another platform, Dube Ale, extends consumer credit under a technical advisory agreement with MasterCard. Niche apps keep sprouting. Get Fee handles school payments, Get Rooms books hotel stays, and Nedaj pays for fuel.

EagleLion once operated CashGo, a remittance service in partnership with the Bank of Abyssinia, until a Central Bank directive halted the project. StarPay, EagleLion’s sister outfit licensed in February for pilot work, is run by Chief Executive Dagmawit Woldegeberel, while EagleLion CEO, Bersufekad Getachew, sits on its board. According to Dagmawit, StarPay has begun signing up hotels and will soon court supermarkets, with hopes of reaching down to “Gulits”, the street-corner vegetable stalls that still rely on cash.

She expects commercial status to arrive within weeks, after which StarPay will apply for a point-of-sale permit and bundle enterprise resource planning software for clients.

Fenan Pay offers the latest proof that life after the sandbox can be brisk. Built by a team of bankers and tech specialists, the platform cleared requirements for commercial permits last week after a six-month pilot that logged more than 1.5 million transactions worth 1.5 billion Br. It operates on a near zero-commission model and integrates with Telebirr, CBE Birr, and M-Pesa, while also offering tools for retail, restaurants, and event ticketing.

The Chief Executive Officer (CEO), Yohannes Shewakena, board director, Biniam Mulisa, and Chief Strategy Officer, Abdi Mekonen, are driven by a single purpose of slashing transaction costs to zero. Fenan started with five million Birr in capital and expects to scale fast, even as Abdi fretfully noted the sector’s creeping fees.

“It should be lower than what it is now,” he said.

In the background stands the National Digital Payments Strategy. Only in 2020 did federal officials permit non-bank entities to operate payment services. According to Solomon Damtew, the central bank’s director of payment and settlement, the shift has been swift.

Digital financing reached 18 trillion Br, equivalent to three times the country’s GDP, through a mix of mobile transfers, digital loans, merchant payments and government transactions on systems such as Telebirr and CBE Birr. The surge reflects an expanding agent network with more than 128 million mobile-money accounts, interoperable QR codes, and links to digital IDs. Those are the foundations of the strategy’s second phase, running through to 2029, which vows to widen access, cut costs and promote inclusion.

However, Solomon is candid about unresolved threats.

“Most of the population is far from digital payments,” he conceded. “Fraud prevention and cyber-security will top the regulatory agenda.”

Betting platforms, meanwhile, have moved fastest. Betika taps Telebirr, SantimPay and Chapa; Arada Bet leans on ArifPay and Chapa; and Hulu Sport accepts an even broader mix, including M-Pesa. With punters placing wagers entirely online after city officials closed physical halls, the sector is forecast by Statista to draw 21.45 million dollars in 2025 and nearly 23 million dollars by 2029. The Lottery Administration clocked roughly one billion Birr in 2020.

Payment providers relish that volume, yet critics say the social cost is overlooked.

Jayson Peters, founder of the ETN Ecosystem and host of the YouTube channel ETHIO TECH with JayP, argued that digital finance is bypassing the people it was meant to help. According to him, financial innovations, “are enriching a few billionaires while bypassing small businesses,” the pillars of many economies. Jayson rails against the obsession with betting outfits, calling it “a toxic economic problem” likely to raise a generation of gamblers. The real hazard, he insisted, is not state-level hacks, monitored by the Information Network Security Administration (INSA), but social-engineering scams that prey on user ignorance.

“Digital financing is most of the time supported by immoral activities,” he warned, citing global cases of gateways tied to illicit trades.

Jayson proposes a grace period of up to a year for small gateways, allowing them to operate license-free, letting newcomers experiment with pricing. Big banks, he added, shoulder cloud-infrastructure bills that can amount to half a million Birr annually, while some gateways charge as much as six percent transaction fees. Even the state-owned Commercial Bank of Ethiopia (CBE) is tipped to raise its fees.

“Technology was supposed to make payment painless,” said Peters. “The prevailing model prizes fat margins from a narrow base rather than modest margins from the many.”

In 2021, the first volume of the digital payments strategy outlined bold metrics. Lift adult access to digital money from 20pc to 70pc by 2024, boost active mobile-money accounts from one percent to 40, digitise 80pc of government payments and increase merchants accepting digital tools from 5,000 to half a million. Annual per-capita digital transactions were set to climb from three to fifteen, with digital retail deals targeted at 40pc of the total, up from less than five percent at the start.

The agent force would swell from 20,000 to more than 250,000, and systems were meant to be fully interoperable.

For small operators like Desalegn, those targets feel distant. He orders his staff to insist on QR codes, collects screenshots by the dozen and still loses sleep over vanishing payments. The Central Bank’s sandbox may encourage innovation, the fintech crowd may chase betting firms, and the regulators may tout national strategies, but Desalegn needs something simpler. He wants to find a way to trust that the 250 Br plate of “Tibs” is actually paid for when the diner walks out the door.

Until then, the cashless future looks decidedly fragile.

Forex Market Holds the Line While Central Bank Redraws It

Posted on August 31, 2025August 31, 2025 by Digital Editor

The foreign-exchange market spent last week’s trading days walking a tightrope between the Central Bank’s policy drives and commercial imperatives. For most private banks, including Awash, Dashen, Nib, Wegagen, Bunna and Hibret, the show was almost mechanical. They posted buying and selling quotes that inched along by fractions of a cent, preserving the National Bank of Ethiopia’s (NBE) mandated two percent retail spread.

In an arena usually ruled by caution, such predictability remains the policy’s point.

But the Central Bank itself, which publishes benchmark rates, often breaks the script. On August 25 and 26, 2025, it posted a spread of 0.04pc. A day later, the gap vanished altogether, with the buying and selling rates (142.8342 Br to the dollar on one side, 142.8343 Br on the other) being effectively identical. By August 29 and 30, the spread had widened to 0.50pc, still only a quarter of the ceiling.

Away from that oddity that has become the rule rather than the exception, the forex market’s top end belonged to Oromia Bank. It routinely paid the highest price for dollars and charged the stiffest prices on sales. The peak landed on August 29 and 30, when Oromia Bank bid 141.85 Br and asked 144.68 Br. Zamzam and Amhara banks also pressed the upper band, keeping offers north of 142.27 Br. Their strategy looked simple. Outbid the pack to pull remittances and traveller cash onto their books.

Global Bank (Ethiopia) stood at the opposite extreme. Its quotes fell as low as 136.39 on the bid and about 139.12 on the ask, well under the industry’s mid-140s ceiling and miles beneath Oromia Bank’s perch. Such conservative pricing typically indicates a liquidity squeeze or a decision to limit foreign-currency exposure until fresh supply arrives. Either way, Global Bank chose defence while Oromia Bank, Zamzam and Amhara Bank played offence.

Several banks drifted upward in gentle increments. Addis Bank started the week by buying at 138.96 Br and selling at 141.74 Br, then finished at 139.33 Br and 142.12 Br. Bunna and Dashen banks edged higher midweek, letting their selling quotes toy with 142 by August 30. The moves were small but consistent with an underlying view that the Brewed Buck will weaken; locking in the Green Buck today is cheaper than chasing it tomorrow.

Strip out the outliers, and the story looks almost flat. Across six days, the typical buying rate ran between 138.9 Br and 139.3 Br, while the typical selling rate ranged between 141.7 Br and 142.1 Br. The textbook spread of two percent held for everyone except the Central Bank. The steadiness implies a carefully managed market, one where treasurers watch the central benchmark and then shade around it, wary of standing too far from the herd.

Yet, averages can hide more than they reveal. At one end, Oromia Bank’s 141.84 Br bid sat 3.14 Br above the industry mean and 0.45 Br over the Central Bank’s own weighted figure. At the other, Global Bank’s 136.6 Br bid dragged the floor lower than the state-owned Commercial Bank of Ethiopia (CBE), which had long held the most conservative posture. The range between the highest and lowest public bids thus stretched beyond five Birr, an unusually wide disparity for a market that claims uniformity.

CBE itself adjusted sharply. It lifted its buying and selling rates by 2.44 Br compared with the prior week, narrowing the gap to the weighted average and ceding the lower boundary to Global Bank. This realignment mattered because CBE’s heft often anchors expectations. Once it chased the market up, private lenders lost cover for quoting far above the norm. The peer group converged, extremes thinned, and the average price eased.

By Saturday, August 30, industrial averages on buy and sell had inched down. The pullback was less about fundamentals than about the disappearance of the week’s loftiest offers. Quotes above 142 Br practically vanished. The distribution tightened into a corridor defined by the high-130s on the bid and the low to mid-140s on the ask. For retail customers, this should mean a better chance of transacting near the mean. For banks, it could threaten slimmer trading income unless volumes jumped or balance-sheet turnover sped up.

The pattern resembled a gentle plateau. Early in the stretch, a handful of banks still tested higher ground. By midweek, interbank and corporate flows forced more disciplined pricing. By week’s end, averages had edged lower, and the spread of quotes shrank.

With spreads flat for most players and averages off their recent highs, the Brewed Buck looked stable. But that calm rests on conditions that can change quickly. If the dollar supply tightens, as forex market history often shows, the upper tail of quotes may return. Banks positioned near the ceiling would climb again, the average would rise, and customers would feel the pinch. So much will depend on whether Oromia Bank keeps its premium bid, whether CBE’s shift triggers more crowding around the weighted benchmark, and whether the Central Bank’s published spread reverts to the two percent norm.

For households and importers, the immediate takeaway is slightly lower costs than a week ago, with fewer punitive offers at the top. For bankers, the lesson is that margins compress when the herd packs close. For the regulator, last week’s drift lower should be welcomed but inconclusive. Sustainable relief requires a steadier flow of foreign currency, not merely the fading of outliers.

The Brewed Buck thus enjoyed a controlled respite last week rather than a rally. The official exchange rate eased at the edges, and the market’s upper range cooled. Price dispersion narrowed, and the centre of gravity slipped a notch. However, the underlying push and pull remain. A fresh surge in remittances could keep the distribution tight, while a sudden import payment crunch could blow it wide. If Oromia Bank keeps bidding aggressively, rivals may follow or lose share.

Last week’s pattern of steadfast peers, a bold outlier and an enigmatic regulator delivered enough intrigue to keep treasurers alert. The Brewed Buck may not be sprinting anywhere, but every small step on the ladder tells a story about liquidity, strategy and the silent negotiations that shape access to hard currency.

School Bells Ring as Wallets Snap Shut

Posted on August 31, 2025August 31, 2025 by Digital Editor

The rainy season was losing its grip on Addis Abeba. Patches of pale sky opened between bruised clouds, and streets that had been rivers only days earlier now carried the damp smell of wet soil. Children headed for the new school year traded bright notebooks while showing off crisp uniforms. For many households, the return to classes felt like a reset. For Meseret Assefa, it felt like a tightening knot.

Her twins were starting fourth grade at a private school, and she refused to let poverty dislodge the promise she had made to them.

“Education,” she said, “will not be among the things poverty can strip away.”

However, the uniforms the girls had worn since their father’s death no longer fit. She noticed that their shirts stretched across growing shoulders, and skirts hold tightly to their waist. She paid 3,000 Br each in tuition, then another 3,400 Br for a uniform for each. Two packs of exercise books cost 1,200 Br, and pens another 40. The figures stacked like weights, swallowing what little she had saved.

Two years earlier, life had unravelled when her husband, a ride-hailing driver and the family’s main breadwinner, died in a car crash. Their small rented flat in the Qilinto condominium quickly became unaffordable. Meseret gathered her children and moved back into her parents’ modest house in the Gottera neighbourhood. She now earns 10,000 Br a month as a cashier, which is barely enough for food and bills.

After work, she sets up a makeshift stand and sells samosas until late. On good nights, she makes between 3,000 Br and 5,000 Br, but most of it disappears into groceries and transport.

“I usually end up using it all for everyday bits,” she said, eyes heavy with exhaustion.

Her mother noticed the strain and quietly bought the girls their notebooks. Without that help, Meseret admitted, she might not have been able to send them back to school.

In Merkato, the sprawling market where she shops, life remains a roar. Car horns blare as drivers squeeze through impossible gaps—mud clings to shoes and tyres alike, reflecting the swollen sky. Porters bent under bulging sacks weave through a tide of shoppers. Stalls overflow with lunch boxes, glittering water bottles and exercise books stacked so high they form miniature cityscapes of paper. Prices float above the bustle like warning signs.

Last week, exercise books, branded “Radical,” sold between 480 Br and 580 Br a dozen. “Sinarline” reached 600 Br, and “Orbit” climbed to 630 Br. A pack of pencils cost 100 Br to 120 Br, while lunch boxes ranged from 1,200 Br to 3,750 Br. A school bag, every child’s badge of fresh-term pride, costs between 1,700 Br and 3,000 Br.

For Habtamu Kinde, who has sold supplies for three years, prices are not as high as they were last year.

“Every exercise book is up a hundred Birr, pencils are 20 Br more,” he told Fortune. “Wholesalers raised theirs first, so we had to follow.”

Meseret walked those alleys with a mind full of sums. What to spend, what to defer, and what to abandon. New bags at 2,000 Br each were simply out of reach. The twins will keep their faded ones with broken zips.

“I’ll sew them,” she said, forcing a smile. “Maybe buy replacements mid-year.”

The girls nod but say little. She knew they noticed the difference.

“They don’t complain,” she whispered, “but when they see other children with new bags and shoes, I can see it in their eyes.”

Across town, Shola Gebeya offered a different scene. Afternoon sun spilt over neat stalls where blue and pink backpacks swayed on hooks. TikTok-famous lunch boxes, wrapped in cellophane, gleamed beside rows of water bottles. Vendors called out with rehearsed enthusiasm: “New bags, new year! Come choose the best for your children!”

Mekdes Girma, a kindergarten teacher earning 20,000 Br a month, threaded her way through the crowd with her daughters: a sixth-grader and a second-grader. Her husband, a school psychologist, brings home 30,000 Br. They live comfortably on paper, yet that comfort melts at Shola’s stalls. The younger girl froze in front of a pink backpack with a dangling toy and refused to move. Mekdes reasoned, coaxed and, finally, relented.

The bag cost 2,800 Br. For her elder daughter, she picked a simpler model for 2,000 Br, then added two fashionable lunch boxes. Before uniforms, the total had climbed to 24,000 Br. At another stand, she bought a sweater for 1,200 Br, trousers for the same and a shirt for 700 Br.

“My younger one already has spare clothes,” she said with a resigned laugh. “But the bag wasn’t negotiable.”

Backpack prices range from 1,200 Br to 3,000 Br, depending on the material and cartoon trends, according to Melaku Sisay, one of the more than 430,000 merchants registered by the Addis Abeba Trade Bureau across 10 sectors, who runs shops in Shola and Merkato. Lunch boxes sell for 1,200 Br and 1,850 Br; premium sets with multiple containers and twin bottles reach 3,800 Br.

“The same bag I sold for 1,050 Br two years ago now costs 3,000 Br,” he recalled.

He dropped the price from 200 Br to 300 Br for wholesale buyers, although his margins were tight. Nearby, another vendor, Birhan Admasu, echoed him. Last year, he sold bags between 800 Br and 1,500 Br. Last week, nothing was below 1,600 Br, while his lunch boxes fetched 1,850 Br to 3,800 Br.

“As demand spikes right before schools open, expect another hundred or two added,” he told Fortune.

Officials require prices to be posted in visible locations and pledge to take action against price gouging.

“We regulate to prevent unjustified increases,” Fisha Tibebu, the Bureau’s deputy head, told Fortune. “Violators will face measures.”

Yet, enforcement is patchy in tangled markets where thousands of transactions happen in minutes.

One Merkato wholesaler imports studious brand exercise books from India, usually bound for towns in Amhara and Tigray regional states. They are of lower quality and rarely sell in big cities. He used to let them go at 12 Br a dozen. Conflict disrupted his routes, forcing him to store them in Addis Abeba. Revenue officials, he said, told him to price them at 40 Br; no one bit. More than 50 packs of 192 books each still sat in a flooded warehouse.

“Customs officials think we undercut locals,” he said with a shrug. “But margins aren’t huge.”

Addis Abeba has roughly 1.2 million students. About 46pc attend private schools, which account for three-quarters of the city’s institutions. Kindergartens alone number 935. Public schools provide notebooks, uniforms, and even free meals for close to 600,000 students. Private-school families, such as Meseret, shoulder every Birr themselves.

In Shola’s garment rows, vendors stood at shop fronts calling to passers-by. Racks of different-coloured uniforms hang like banners; others lie folded in stacks.

Frewoyni Yihidego, a housewife, tried a yellow shirt on her nine-year-old, weighing cost against fit. She argued the price down to 800 Br each for the shirt and trousers, totalling 1,600 Br. For her four-year-old, starting school, she paid another 1,600 Br. Crayons cost 200 Br for two packs, exercise books 1,200 Br for each child, and pencils 300 Br for three packs. A lunch box and water bottle together cost 1,600 Br.

“I’ve to make sure everything is ready,” she said. “It’s a lot, but they must start properly.”

Finding the right uniform shades is another battle.

“Schools keep choosing unique colours between dark grey, airline blue-green, and navy,” said Kalkidan Abiy, a vendor. “Getting exact shades is hard.”

The fabric price has also increased by 100 Br to 150 Br per metre compared to last year.

At the Ethiopian Textile & Garment Manufacturers Association, secretary-general Agazi Gebreyesus saw domestic producers squeezed by taxes that discourage expansion. A five percent excise tax on sales goes against standard practice, he argued, while high duties on inputs and spare parts drive up costs. Foreign-currency shortages create further delays.

“Without incentives, producers can’t keep pace with demand,” he said.

Brass Garment, one of the city’s larger suppliers, employs a thousand workers across four branches. According to its Sales Manager, Samson Assefa, shirts now run to 1,000 Br for top quality, trousers up to 1,900 Br, and sweaters 900 Br.

“Prices are 200 Br to 300 Br higher than last year because fabric alone rose between 100 Br and 200 Br,” he told Fortune.

Customs duties on imported supplies vary, but are layered on top of VAT and other fees. Pens attract the heaviest rates, followed by school bags and textiles. Garment makers avoid withholding charges but still face high levies on materials. Officials say these taxes finance subsidies and target luxuries. Importers counter that by the time duties stack up, a basic notebook or bag is already out of most parents’ reach.

According to Dawit Kejela, a former auditor at the Ministry of Revenue, who now advises businesses, inspectors survey markets on a monthly basis.

“They compare two or three similar shops if prices vary,” he said.

According to Addis Abeba Revenues officials, a market study of 16,000 items was conducted to set average prices for VAT purposes.

“Merchants often declare lower prices than they charge,” one official said. “We verify actual market value to prevent underreporting.”

Items the state wants produced locally carry the stiffest duties, yet quality imports still dominate sales.

“Exercise books should be exempt,” Dawit argued. “They’re not like plain paper used in offices, and local supply is limited.”

For Dawit, the long-term fix is to enhance domestic manufacturing, thereby reducing the need for imports, including even basic items like pens, from Kenya.

Molla Alemayehu (PhD), a senior researcher at the Ethiopian Economics Association, agreed. Local goods should take precedence, but exemptions are needed where factories fall short.

“Free supplies for state schools help,” he said. “But pupils in private schools face the same high costs. Basic items, including exercise books, pens, and pencils, shouldn’t be taxed. It’s about fairness.”

Addis Abeba’s Unflushed Reckoning

Posted on August 31, 2025August 30, 2025 by Digital Editor

When cholera swept through London in 1854, a physician named John Snow sketched a map that linked the deaths to a single water pump. The discovery compelled officials to view waste, water, and disease as interconnected threads of a single fabric.

Out of crisis came sewers, drainage laws and the modern notion that sanitation is a civic obligation. Waste was no longer something to hide. It was a danger to engineer away, hence the need to be managed.

Addis Abeba met cholera on different terms. Successive outbreaks were subdued not by pipes and drains but by syringes. Mass vaccination drives led by the World Health Organisation (WHO) and public health authorities reached millions and halted the epidemic before it gained momentum. The victory, however, was a Faustian bargain. The germs vanished; however, the conditions that breed them, such as heaps of garbage, open drains and foul ditches, were left intact.

The city generates between 2,400tns and 3,300tns of municipal refuse every day. Roughly three-quarters of household food waste is diverted; a quarter never enters a truck at all. It is tossed into ravines, burned in backyards or swept into rivers. What is collected is trundled by pushcart and battered lorry to Qoshe, a landfill whose rubbish heap has grown for more than half a century.

The mismatch between a skyline of glass towers and a waste service powered by handcarts is nothing less than mesmerising. Each new condominium brings another sack of plastic wrappers and vegetable peels; much of it ends up back on the streets when seasonal rains flush blocked drains and flood low-lying roads. City officials’ answer is what critics call a politics of subtraction. Sweep vendors off the pavement, stage periodic clean-up drives, and launch glossy beautification schemes.

In doing so, dirt is pushed from sight, not removed from the system.

Citizens practise their own version of evasion. Public toilets, school latrines and office bathrooms are notorious for going unflushed, as if disposal were someone else’s chore. The Slovenian philosopher, Slavoj iek, jokes that nations reveal themselves through toilet designs. Addis Abeba, he might add, reveals itself through reluctance to pull the handle.

The private act of disavowal scales up in grim fashion at Qoshe. After the rains, the stench drifts over the neighbourhoods of Jemo and Mekanisa. Residents notice its absence more than its presence. In 2017, a section of the dump collapsed, killing more than 100 people; tragedy piled atop neglect.

Leachate, laced with heavy metals, seeps into the soil and groundwater. Methane seeps from decomposing food waste, sometimes igniting spontaneous fires. Plastic bags clog storm drains, and when the sky opens, cars bob like boats. An unflushed toilet eventually fouls every corner of the house, and Addis Abeba now lives that parable citywide.

The machinery meant to contain the mess is itself broken. Waste collection is split among agencies, often lacking sufficient funding and enforcement. Micro- and small enterprises push handcarts door-to-door, yet without coordination or credit, they cannot modernise. The official fleet consists of 140 disposal trucks, with approximately a third of them out of service on any given day.

Into the gaps step hundreds of informal collectors who comb through bins and the dump for bottles, scrap metal and plastic. They are the de facto recycling arm of the city, slinging sacks that earn only a few Birr while officials treat them as nuisances rather than partners. Their labours hint at opportunity. The organic share of the waste stream could be composted into fertiliser instead of belching methane.

Plastics could feed small factories that turn out construction panels instead of clogging waterways. A handful of start-ups already produce plastic bricks or recycle paper, but with hardly any policy support, they remain exceptions rather than a market.

Addis Abeba’s urge to leapfrog problems with a trophy project produced Reppie, a waste-to-energy plant once billed as the first of its kind in Africa. Designed to burn 80pc of the city’s refuse and supply a third of its power, the facility now limps at roughly half capacity. Ovens choke on moisture-rich organics, turbines falter and repairs stall. What was meant to be a showpiece of modern engineering has become a lesson in skipping the basics.

Sorting rubbish at the source into organic, recyclable and hazardous streams would simplify every step that follows. Recognising informal collectors as legitimate handlers would fold their expertise into the official system and improve the city’s diversion rate overnight. Public-private partnerships could channel investment into compost yards and recycling lines, reducing the import bill for fertilisers and building supplies while creating jobs.

Sustained public campaigns, rather than one-off photo-ops, could shift behaviour toward regular flushing, proper binning and timely pickup.

Above all, governance should shift from hiding waste to managing it effectively. A city’s health is written in its drains and dumps as plainly as its skyline. London’s brush with cholera forced it to reinvent itself from the sewer upward. Addis Abeba’s dependence on vaccines lets it defer the hard work. Cholera no longer stalks its streets, but the forces that once invited the disease still lurk in gutters and culverts.

A metropolis that will not handle its own refuse risks, quite literally, being buried by it.

Trolls, Extremes, and the Economics of Outrage

Posted on August 31, 2025August 30, 2025 by Digital Editor

Sometimes, the fulfilment of a promise feels like punishment. When the radio was invented more than 100 years ago, the German playwright Bertolt Brecht observed that its full potential could be explored only after it had become a communication tool, rather than merely a distribution channel. After all, there is a big difference between the few being able to speak to the many and everyone being able to speak with everyone else.

Digital technologies have indeed allowed everyone to speak to everyone. However, they have certainly not facilitated mutual understanding or public reason. On the contrary, open societies appear to be the least capable of making the most of this long-awaited opportunity.

The last two decades have dashed many of the hopes that once came with the digital revolution. Instead of wider access to shared facts, we have fake news. Instead of conversation, we have trolling and shouting matches. Instead of creative diversity, we have new monopolies. Instead of democratic deliberation, we have shouting contests. Those who master the attention game may win it for a while, but they typically produce more noise than enlightenment.

The cacophony of public debate grows because digital platforms are designed to encourage and capitalise on dissonance.

The Reuters Institute’s “Digital News Report” and other studies have repeatedly shown that those with extreme and fringe political views engage disproportionately with digital content. This is not surprising. Those who are more or less satisfied with the status quo, and well-adjusted to it, generally feel no need to air grievances publicly. Even the great philosopher Jürgen Habermas recently admitted that anger has often motivated his public interventions.

Citizens today do not convert their discontent into carefully considered political arguments, because it is easier simply to rant online. As a result, public attention is dominated by views representing the margins, and consensus feels further out of reach than ever.

Media operatives like Steve Bannon, Donald Trump’s 2016 presidential campaign strategist, have exploited this technologically driven phenomenon for their own ends.

“The real opposition is the media,” Bannon contends, “And the way to deal with them is to flood the zone with shit.”

Fill the public arena with enough nonsensical claims and statements, and eventually, nobody will believe anything anymore. As more reputable news outlets get sucked into the maelstrom, they will lose credibility with at least some share of the public, leading to the fragmentation of the public sphere.

In her 2019 book, “The Death of Truth,” the literary critic Michiko Kakutani describes how right-wing populists have appropriated postmodern ideas to deny the very possibility of shared truths. Seizing on the argument that an individual’s worldview is always ultimately subjective, they reject any attempt at discursive comparison, and embrace a public sphere in which the loudest megaphone wins.

Meanwhile, democratic forces in open societies have done too little to counter strategies of manipulation. At this point, anyone who wants to salvage a democratic consensus should first reconstruct the concept of the public square, and show how the diversity of our perceptions of the world is still fully compatible with devising a common plan for the future. Forging social consensus in pluralistic, increasingly globalised societies may be difficult, but it is necessary.

Understanding the structure of the state and the electoral system is not enough. Educational institutions should also teach students media literacy. In an “editorial society” where every citizen can potentially go public at any time, such training (both philosophical and technical) should be emphasised in school curricula.

Likewise, media policy should be factored into any program to defend and reinforce democracy, because public reasoning is a fundamental duty of citizenship. We should not accept the concentration of media power in fewer and fewer hands. We must not stand idly by as overbearing multi-billionaires buy and restructure major digital platforms on a whim, or as more “news deserts” (where objective and independent reporting is no longer economically viable) emerge.

The solution is to develop regulatory policies that acknowledge journalism as a public good that ought to be protected, even privileged. Since factual communication is central to democracy, it makes sense to create and support platforms that are organised on a non-profit basis and thus are insulated somewhat from the constraints and demands of the market. They can contribute to a public sphere largely shaped by private publishers, public broadcasters, and tech-driven platforms.

With the right qualitative benchmarks, non-profit institutions can promote innovation and ensure that different constituencies’ voices are heard.

Of course, journalism’s public role changes over time. As the media scholar Jeff Jarvis points out, the task of mediation and moderation no longer refers solely to bringing together the major currents of thought. Journalists should also provide overviews and help citizens orient themselves in new forums such as social media. If a society is increasingly “over-newsed” and underinformed, journalists should aim to provide context and curation, rather than only adding to the pile of information.

We should recognise that innovation is as much a cultural and social phenomenon as it is a technological or economic one. That is a necessary first step toward fulfilling technology’s promise of enlightenment. The fact that everyone can express themselves and inform themselves without hindrance could improve democracy, but only if we are prepared to debate about how we want to debate in the future.

Author: Digital Editor