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A Supreme Court Ruling Turns Representation to Self-Enrichment

A recent case before the House of Federation (acting like a constitutional court in many other countries) demonstrated how easily the trust a principal could bestow upon an agent can be crossed.

A principal granted a power of attorney to an agent, including the authority to sell a property to a third party. The mandate had an evident purpose. The agent was to dispose of the property in a way that served the principal. Instead, the agent mortgaged the property to a bank to secure a loan for a sole proprietorship business the agent owned and operated.

That decision changed the character of the authority granted. The agent did not use the property to complete a sale for the principal. He used it as collateral for personal financial gain. The principal’s property was placed at risk of foreclosure for obligations that had nothing to do with her.

An agent’s authority under the Ethiopian law may come from a contract or directly from the law. But its source does not change the basic rule. An agent must act only for the principal and in the principal’s best interests. Such a duty is not a formality but the foundation of agency law, and once it is weakened, the relationship loses its legal meaning.

The same principle requires an agent to avoid conflicts of interest. The agent must put the principal’s interests ahead of personal gain and any third party’s interests. The law does not wait for actual harm before it becomes concerned. The possibility of divided loyalty is enough to threaten the relationship’s integrity. An agency works because the principal trusts another person to act within delegated authority for a defined purpose. When the agent acts outside that purpose, the authority itself loses its legal foundation.

In the case before the House of Federation, the principal sued both the agent and the bank, seeking to invalidate the mortgage. The Federal First Instance Court ruled in favour of the defendants, finding that the agent had sufficient authority and that the mortgage contract was valid. The Court appeared to give decisive weight to the formal scope of the power of attorney, rather than to the purpose for which the power had been granted or the manner in which it was used.

Judges at the Federal High Court reversed the decision on appeal. Their reasoning reflected a more careful understanding of agency, arguing that an authority cannot be assessed only by asking whether a power exists on paper. Courts should ask whether the power was exercised for the principal’s benefit.

However, this ruling did not last. Justices at the Federal Supreme Court reinstated the First Instance Court’s ruling, and the Cassation Bench dismissed the principal’s petition, finding no basic and fundamental error of law.

The legal basis for upholding the mortgage rested mainly on Article 3049(2) of the Civil Code. The provision states that a person may mortgage property only if that person is entitled to dispose of it for consideration. The Court reasoned that because the agent had authority to sell the property, he also had authority to mortgage it. In this view, the power to dispose of property was broad enough to include both sale and mortgage.

At first glance, the argument appears to have a certain logic. A sale is a final and permanent transfer. A mortgage may be seen as a lesser form of disposition. From a narrow and strictly formal point of view, the power to sell could be read to include the power to mortgage. But that reasoning misses the central question.

For whose benefit was the mortgage created?

Addressing this question is indispensable. Agency authority is not a free-standing power. It is a tool given to achieve the principal’s objective. An agent may use granted powers to advance the principal’s interests. The same powers cannot be used to advance the agent’s private interests. Mortgaging the principal’s property to secure a loan for the agent’s own business is a direct conflict of interest. It is a breach of the agent’s duty of loyalty.

The conduct cannot be saved by invoking implied authority. Implied powers exist to make the principal’s mandate effective. They do not allow an agent to expand the mandate beyond its purpose. Treating the authority to sell as the power to mortgage the property for the agent’s personal business stretches implied authority beyond recognition. It converts representation into self-enrichment.

The Federal Supreme Court’s ruling, later reinforced by the House of Federation, therefore appears to dilute core principles of agency law. Agency is built on trust, loyalty and exclusive representation. The agent must not act against the principal’s interests or derive undisclosed and unauthorised benefits from the relationship. By validating the mortgage, the ruling risks normalising the conduct that agency law is designed to prevent.

The bank’s role was also  problematic. Financial institutions dealing with agents under a power of attorney are expected to exercise due diligence. A transaction that appears to benefit the agent personally, rather than the principal, should raise immediate concerns. If those concerns are ignored, the problem is not only private misconduct. It may point to weak institutional safeguards or a preference for transactional convenience over legal integrity.

Comparative legal practice often takes a stricter view of self-dealing by agents. Transactions in which an agent benefits personally are commonly treated as presumptively void or voidable unless the principal has given fully informed consent. The reason is practical. Conflicts of interest create risks too serious to be left to assumption or after-the-fact rationalisation. Against this standard, the approach in this case looks unusually permissive.

Yet, the implications extend beyond a single dispute over a mortgage. Agency relationships perform an important economic function. They allow people who cannot act in person due to time, distance, or capacity to transact through someone else. In Ethiopia, this is especially important for members of the diaspora, who often rely on agents to manage, lease or sell property in the country.

If agents can use delegated authority for personal financial gain, principals will become more hesitant to delegate. Trust will decline. Transactions that could have taken place efficiently may be delayed or avoided. Over time, this could create a transactional “lock-in,” where property owners avoid agents even when representation would serve their interests.

That would defeat the purpose of the agency. The institution exists to bridge practical gaps between principals and the transactions they seek to complete. If the law weakens the safeguards protecting principals, the agency becomes less useful and potentially harmful.

The case also warns against reading statutory provisions in isolation from broader legal principles. Agency law is not only a set of technical rules. It rests on equity, good faith and fiduciary responsibility. A court that asks only whether an agent had abstract authority, while ignoring the purpose and limits of that authority, risks weakening the coherence of the legal system and public confidence in judicial reasoning.

The issue was not simply whether the agent could mortgage property in some technical sense. It was whether the agent could mortgage the principal’s property to secure the agent’s own loan. On that point, the ruling is difficult to reconcile with loyalty, good faith, and fidelity to purpose.

Legal authority should carry responsibility. Without that link, an agency cannot function as intended. When loyalty is compromised, the consequences do not stop with one principal, one agent or one bank. They spread across the legal and economic system, making delegation less trusted and commercial dealings less secure for principals.

Digital Wallet Boom Still Waits for a Marketplace

When Ethio telecom launched Zemen Gebeya nearly a year ago, Ethiopia’s digital business sector expected a breakthrough. The platform was presented as a step into modern e-commerce, where earlier ventures had struggled to build trust and scale.

Ten months later, its progress has been far quieter than Telebirr, the company’s mobile money service, which moved quickly into use. The contrast points to a broader lesson for the domestic digital economy. Payments may matter, but they do not, by themselves, create commerce.

For years, the weak link in the local e-commerce sector was digital payment. Startups and early online platforms, from niche delivery firms to broader marketplaces, operated in an economy where cash dominated and financial inclusion was limited. Telebirr, banking apps and fintech services have changed that part of the equation. A workable digital payment ecosystem now exists. In theory, this should have opened the way for online commerce to expand. In practice, platforms such as Tinamart and government-backed initiatives from the Ministry of Trade & Regional Integration (MoTRI) have yet to win mass adoption.

The reasons are less technological than structural. E-commerce depends on more than an app, a wallet and a catalogue. It needs sufficient goods, a reliable supply and standard products that consumers can trust. Ethiopia’s macroeconomic setting makes that difficult. Persistent shortages, import constraints and fragmented production systems leave many sellers unable to offer steady stock.

Digital payments can scale once the infrastructure is in place, whereas physical commerce cannot. It needs available goods, priced clearly and backed by some assurance of quality. Without that base, even a well-designed marketplace risks becoming an empty storefront.

Logistics is another constraint. Online commerce requires dependable last-mile delivery, inventory management and return systems, factors that are lacking in the local context.

Zemen Gebeya can draw on Ethio telecom’s digital reach, but that reach does not automatically solve the physical distribution problem. Late deliveries, uneven service and limited coverage outside major urban centres can quickly undermine consumer confidence. In e-commerce, trust is built not only when a payment goes through, but also when the right product arrives on time and can be returned when something goes wrong.

A less visible obstacle is traceability, in which digital platforms maintain records that can be reviewed by tax authorities and regulators. For merchants in informal or semi-formal markets, this transparency can feel risky. Their reluctance may not reflect opposition to technology, but they may fear that joining a platform could expose them to tax obligations or regulatory scrutiny before their businesses are ready.

Telebirr had a different path. Its growth was supported by policy action, especially the requirement to use digital payments for fuel transactions. That created a “must-use” case and embedded it in daily life. No similar policy push exists for e-commerce. That matters because platforms rarely grow from technology alone. They need aligned incentives across users, suppliers, regulators and service providers. Telebirr’s success shows what happens when infrastructure, policy and daily necessity meet.

Zemen Gebeya operates in a harder market. Producers, wholesalers, logistics firms, regulators, and consumers all want to see value together. This is the classic challenge of platform economics. A marketplace works when enough buyers and sellers are present. But buyers wait for sellers, and sellers wait for buyers. Without intervention, both sides can remain stuck in a low-activity cycle.

The response begins with supply. Policymakers could encourage large producers and essential-goods suppliers to join. As fuel transactions helped anchor Telebirr, staple items, agricultural inputs or everyday consumer goods could give Zemen Gebeya a reliable base of demand and supply. It would then be less dependent on scattered merchants and irregular stock. Logistics should be treated as part of the core system, not an added service.

Public-private partnerships could help build shared delivery infrastructure, cut costs and improve reliability. Local courier networks could be supported and digitally integrated, allowing e-commerce to move beyond major cities. Regulation is another lever where formalisation could be important, but it should not scare away the merchants the platform needs. Simplified tax rules or temporary incentives for digital traders could reduce anxiety around traceability and encourage more sellers to participate.

Ethio telecom could also rethink the model. Instead of treating Zemen Gebeya as a separate marketplace, Telebirr could integrate its commerce functions. A “super app” approach would place buying and selling inside a service many users already know.

Zemen Gebeya’s slow uptake is not proof of failure. It is a sequencing problem in an ecosystem with a payment layer. The harder task is building supply, logistics, trust and incentives around it. The promise remains, but digital commerce will become mainstream only when it becomes necessary, reliable and easy.

The Hidden Chokepoints Threatening the Global Economy

The closure of the Strait of Hormuz is only the latest in a series of major supply shocks the global economy has experienced since 2020. Yet each time, the resulting shortages appear to catch policymakers off guard.

From personal protective equipment at the start of the COVID-19 pandemic to fertiliser and sulfur today, the key chokepoints and complex supply-chain interdependencies that cause these shortages remain poorly understood, often becoming visible only once crises are already underway. The downstream consequences of the current crisis have yet to materialise and may take months to be fully felt. No sulfur means no sulfuric acid, which in turn threatens copper production in Chile.

Meanwhile, surging fertiliser prices are likely to hit food supplies and drive up consumer prices later this year, disproportionately affecting import-dependent economies. This raises a critical question.

What other bottlenecks and shortages will emerge in the years ahead?

One might have expected governments to improve their monitoring of supply-chain vulnerabilities, yet despite repeated disruptions, progress in mapping these networks and building resilience has been limited. As a result, the global economy is bound to be caught unprepared once again.

To be sure, there has been some progress since the pandemic. The OECD’s value-added trade database, for example, provides useful insights into flows of components, goods, and services, shedding light on the hidden structure of global production networks. But it remains a supplement to traditional trade statistics, offering aggregated data that extends only to 2022, and therefore, captures only a small part of a rapidly evolving landscape. Real-time visibility thus remains out of reach for most governments.

Other initiatives, such as the Observatory of Economic Complexity, offer more granular data, including on individual firms. Some vulnerabilities are now well known. Most notably, Taiwan dominates advanced semiconductor production through TSMC, which accounts for more than 90pc of the global supply.

Even so, governments should do far more to identify their economies’ weak points and confront those vulnerabilities head-on. Many essential inputs are produced in highly concentrated markets, often in a handful of countries. And given that even simple or cheap components can be indispensable further up the supply chain, a seemingly minor disruption can quickly cascade into a major supply crisis that reverberates through the global economy.

Consider, for example, the bicycle industry. Most bikes rely on components made by Japanese manufacturer Shimano, which has struggled in recent years to keep up with demand. Similarly, automotive supply chains are dominated by specialist suppliers, with one or two firms often accounting for most of the sector’s output. While such dependencies are well known within these industries, policymakers rarely follow the trade press, where problems tend to surface first.

With roughly two-thirds of global trade in manufactured goods consisting of intermediate components rather than finished products, this is far from a niche concern. Globalisation has created vast and intricate supply chains that turbocharged economic growth while deepening interdependence. As Adam Smith observed in “The Wealth of Nations” 250 years ago, specialisation drives prosperity. But it also depends on the size of the market. There is little point in producing 1,000 pins a day instead of a hundred if demand for pins does not grow.

While globalisation has expanded markets beyond national borders, many specialised components have no alternative producers. Their market is ultimately capped by global demand for the final product, leaving little room for diversification on the supply side and making sudden shocks harder to absorb or offset.

The stakes are enormous. A delay in receiving a new bicycle is inconvenient, but disruptions to food and water systems or medical supplies would have far more serious consequences.

Encouragingly, some policymakers have begun to identify strategically important sectors. Heightened geopolitical uncertainty has spurred investment in domestic manufacturing capacity, most notably in semiconductor production in the United States. But the persistence of supply-chain chokepoints proved the need to rethink industrial policy. In particular, policymakers should think more broadly, including seeking to reinforce existing strengths, rather than focusing narrowly on emerging technologies such as clean energy and artificial intelligence (AI).

In most countries, however, supply-chain vulnerabilities remain largely overlooked in policy debates. That could be a costly mistake. With further disruption all but certain, governments should be able to move fast to secure vital inputs and contain emerging risks. Economic resilience is now inseparable from national security. Countries that fail to build a flexible and robust production base will learn that the hard way.

Media Must Not Be Allowed to Sell Public Trust to the Highest Bidder

The Federal Supreme Court Cassation Bench’s ruling on media liability marked a sharp turn in how Ethiopian law treats broadcasters. By holding Ethiopian Broadcasting Service (EBS) and Ethiopian Broadcasting Corporation (EBC) liable for 25pc of the damages caused by Zuna Trading Plc, a third-party trader, the Justices drew a line around broadcasting.

The airwaves, they reasoned, could not be treated as a lawless frontier.

For years, the principle of “Caveat Emptor” (buyer beware) has defined many commercial interactions. The recent ruling against EBS and EBC signalled a move away from this tradition. The law is increasingly recognising the role that media houses play in amplifying falsehoods, with many consumers viewing televised claims as inherently credible. By enforcing professional responsibility, Courts seek to protect the public from those who rent public trust to facilitate deception.

The House of Federation (HoF) has reportedly moved to repeal or freeze the precedent. Its concern appears to be that media houses could face large claims for advertisers’ misconduct. That concern is not trivial. But the Cassation Bench did not turn broadcasters into insurers for every failed business deal. It asked whether they ignored a basic duty when a claim was easy to check.

Zuna Trading’s statement was simple and verifiable. It advertised that vehicles had arrived when they had not. The broadcasters carried the advertisements without checking them, and buyers who relied on that information were harmed. Advertisement law requires broadcasters to verify the “accuracy of advertisements before broadcasting.” It also treats an advertisement as “misleading” when it claims products are available, even though they are not.

This made the broadcasters’ conduct more than a clerical mistake. It was a breach of statutory duty, and a failure to perform a statutory duty. The civil law and the advertisement proclamation treat the breach of a specific legal duty as a fault, whether or not the party intended to cause harm. The issue was not whether EBS and EBC had planned the deception, but whether they failed to do what the law required before taking money to air the message.

However, the harder question remains the remedy. The dispute was whether administrative fines under the advertisement law should be the only consequence. The Cassation Bench rejected that view, with the Justices arguing that a fine paid to the state does not compensate victims. Where a breach of law causes harm, civil liability fills the gap. Otherwise, broadcasters could pay a small penalty to the government while defrauded citizens receive nothing.

The Court’s one-fourth allocation of liability was limited. Granted, the broadcasters were not liable for the entire loss, as Zuna Trading remained the primary culprit. However, their negligence was treated as the “vehicle” that carried the deception into homes and made it credible. The ruling did not say media houses should guarantee every promise made by an advertiser. It said they may be liable when a claim is clear, material and easy to check, yet goes unchecked.

The House of Federation’s reported intervention risks weakening that discipline. If broadcasters face no civil consequence for airing false commercial claims, the incentive to screen paying clients falls. Any “fly-by-night” trader with an advertising budget could lend institutional credibility to deceptive claims through radio and television, leaving consumers to bear the cost when the promise collapses.

The broader framework also matters. The constitutional and consumer-protection rules give weight to public protection, not unchecked “commercial freedom.” Many consumers treat televised claims as credible. The law, therefore, cannot ignore the role media houses play in amplifying falsehoods.

The same logic would likely apply more strongly to financial technology. If broadcasters, digital platforms, or channels promoted unlicensed digital banks or crypto schemes, the duty of care would be harder to dismiss. Losses in digital finance can spread quickly and affect many people. An advertisement may not merely persuade viewers. It may connect them directly to financial loss.

The House of Federation would face a harder balance. It may want to protect “innovation,” but a fintech scam can damage more than individual victims and weaken confidence in digital finance and the wider economy. In such cases, the reasoning used by the Justices at the Cassation Bench would probably carry more force, not less.

The ruling was more than a dispute over one trader’s false advertisement. It moved Ethiopian law away from Caveat Emptor, or Buyer Beware, and toward professional responsibility. The messenger should be protected. But not when the messenger profits from a lie and a breach of statutory duty that could have been checked. That is the narrow and practical principle at stake.

Development That Redraws the Rent Line

Urban renewal is often sold as a promise: cleaner streets, safer neighbourhoods, better lighting, and a city finally catching up with its ambitions. In Ethiopia, the corridor development projects are beginning to deliver on that promise. Roads are smoother, sidewalks are walkable, and public spaces have turned into active, visible signs of urban momentum. Beneath this transformation, however, a quieter and more troubling shift is taking shape.

In neighbourhoods touched by these improvements, rents are rising sharply, often overnight. The increase is not driven by changes inside the homes, but by the upgraded environment outside. Landlords, responding to the perceived rise in value, adjust prices to match what they believe the market can now absorb.

For tenants, the effect is immediate and unsettling. Families are often asked to pay significantly more than they were paying just months earlier, with little warning and even less room to negotiate.

Take, for example, a family I know living in the Goro area. They were paying 28,000 Br. for a house that was far from ideal. Mould affected the kitchen, plumbing leaked, the septic system smelled persistently, and the electrical wiring was unreliable. Instead of moving, they invested in the property. Over time, they spent around half a million Br. making it safe and livable for their children. They fixed the plumbing, repaired the septic system, cleaned and restored the house, improved the electrical system, and essentially rebuilt the home using their own resources.

They were seeking stability. A place where their children would not be moved repeatedly from one house to another. What they created was more than a repaired structure; it was a functioning home.

Yet stability did not last. Over four years, the rent increased every six months, often without regard for agreements or legal protections. Each time the family objected, pointing to the contract, the response remained the same: accept the increase or leave. Following corridor development in the area, the landlord demanded an additional 50,000 Br., not based on improvements inside the house, but on upgraded roads, lighting, and nearby public spaces.

This is not an isolated case. Similar stories are emerging across Addis Ababa as neighbourhoods undergo transformation. At social gatherings, conversations increasingly revolve around rent hikes, eviction threats, and the shrinking pool of affordable housing. What should be a moment of collective pride in national development is, for many residents, becoming a source of growing uncertainty.

The core issue lies in how the benefits of public investment are distributed. Infrastructure projects are funded by taxpayers and intended to improve living conditions broadly. Yet when surrounding upgrades drive, rent increases without safeguards, the gains are captured by property owners, while tenants carry the burden. In practice, those who helped sustain these neighbourhoods are often the ones priced out of them.

This pattern is not unique to Ethiopia. Cities globally have faced similar dynamics, commonly referred to as gentrification. In countries such as Germany, tenant protections limit how much rent can increase within a set period. Long-term leases and strict eviction rules provide stability, reducing sudden displacement. Rent control mechanisms are used to slow rapid price escalation and preserve affordability.

In Singapore, a different model is used. The government plays a central role in housing supply, offering large-scale public housing at affordable rates. This reduces pressure on private rentals and ensures broad access to stable housing.

In Ethiopia, even government-built housing, once intended as relief for low- and middle-income residents, is becoming increasingly expensive for those it was meant to support. New tenants in government housing, including people I know, now pay as much as 100,000 Br. for state-owned apartments. This raises difficult questions about affordability, access, and the original intent of public housing.

The shift reflects a deeper imbalance between supply and demand, but also highlights gaps in policy design and oversight. When public housing begins to mirror private market pricing, its function as a safety net weakens. Without income-based pricing, clear allocation rules, or protections for long-term tenants, it risks becoming just another high-cost option in an already strained system.

Increasing housing supply remains central to stabilising prices. Ethiopia already has laws governing rental agreements and tenant rights, but enforcement remains weak. When landlords ignore contracts without consequence, the legal framework loses practical meaning. Stronger and more accessible dispute resolution mechanisms could help address this gap.

There are also practical steps that could ease pressure in the short term. One approach is to introduce gradual rent adjustment guidelines tied to inflation or clearly defined property improvements. This would help align landlord expectations with broader economic realities while protecting tenants from abrupt shocks.

Urban planning also needs to treat housing affordability as a core priority rather than a secondary concern. Corridor development projects could include provisions for affordable housing within upgraded areas, ensuring that existing residents are not pushed out. Mixed-income housing models or targeted subsidies for vulnerable groups could help maintain social balance in redeveloped neighbourhoods.

The broader story of development should not be one where progress benefits some while displacing others. The family in Goro did what cities often hope residents will do. They invested in their home, improved their surroundings, and built a stable life. Yet they now face displacement, not because they failed, but because the neighbourhood around them improved.

For Ethiopia to realise its urban transformation, this imbalance must be addressed. Development should strengthen communities, not fragment them. Roads, lighting, and public spaces matter, but so do the people who live alongside them. Without tenant protections and fair housing policy, infrastructure gains risk being overshadowed by rising social pressure.

The challenge is not to slow development, but to guide it with care. With stronger policy enforcement, clearer rules, and a commitment to fairness, cities can grow in ways that are modern, efficient, and inclusive. That is the kind of progress that endures.

The Final Exam No One Prepared For

The first time I heard about the “Mesob” one-stop service initiative, relief came quickly. It sounded like a promise to citizens worn down by bureaucracy, a signal that the long chase for a single signature across multiple offices might finally ease. The name itself carries weight. In Ethiopian culture, a Mesob gathers people and things in one place. Applied to public service, it suggests coherence rather than chaos.

My own encounters with government offices have been few, but memorable for the wrong reasons. The culture of “come back tomorrow” lingers. Simple requests stretch into drawn-out exchanges, where information is scarce and direction unclear. The real strain is not just the wait. It is the constant uncertainty, the need to ask repeatedly where to go next.

The Mesob idea feels especially urgent at the Addis Abeba University.

Some processes have improved over time, yet the clearance procedure remains stubbornly unchanged. It is the final step before graduation, though it feels less like a conclusion and more like an obstacle course. After years of study, the last task should mark closure. Instead, it tests endurance.

Clearance requires proof that nothing is owed to the university, from books to bedding, before a degree is released. It begins with a slip of paper at the department office. At the registrar, that slip suddenly needs multiple copies. No one seems to agree on how many. What follows resembles a scavenger hunt. Offices are scattered, instructions inconsistent, and guidance largely informal.

Students move from building to building, often relying on strangers for direction. One office sends them elsewhere. Another reveals that a signature was never needed in the first place. The system feels less like a structure and more like a maze. Clarity is missing where it matters most.

The breaking point came at the final stage, when I was preparing to collect my temporary graduation certificate. The requirement was simple on paper: return the student ID to complete clearance.

My ID had been taken by a campus guard a year earlier. It had expired, and at the time I was using it while processing my degree, lacking other identification. When it was confiscated, I assumed it was gone for good.

At the registrar, the response was procedural and firm. Without the card in hand, I was told to report it as lost at a police station, secure documentation, return to the university, request a replacement, then submit that new card immediately to complete the process.

The logic was precise, yet detached from reality. The university holds student records, photographs, and academic history. Still, a missing piece of plastic halted everything. The process was not protective. It was rigid.

Standing in the hallway, the weight of it all surfaced. It was not only about the card. It was about the hours lost, the repeated trips, and the absence of flexibility. Systems built by people should allow for judgment. Here, procedure seemed to override sense.

In that moment, help came from an unexpected place. A passerby asked what was wrong and listened. His suggestion was simple: check with the gate guards. They often keep confiscated IDs.

At the gate, the answer was waiting. The card had been sitting in a drawer for a year. A small object, holding up an entire process.

Without that advice, the detour through a police station would have taken days. The experience revealed how easily time can be lost within a system that lacks coordination.

For graduate students, the strain runs deeper. Many balance work and study, using limited leave to complete administrative tasks. Time matters. Efficiency is not a luxury.

The country is moving toward a broader digital transformation. That ambition must reach institutions like Addis Abeba University. If the systems that serve students remain manual and fragmented, progress elsewhere will feel uneven.

A different approach is possible. Clearance could exist within a shared system, where departments, libraries, and registrars update records in real time. Completion would trigger confirmation, not another round of paperwork. No duplicate slips, no unnecessary detours, no uncertainty.

As I wait to collect my degree, the return to campus feels heavy. For many, university memories are defined by growth and connection. Mine carry a different edge, shaped by process rather than experience.

The idea behind Mesob remains powerful. Bringing services together, simplifying steps, and respecting time are not distant goals. They are practical choices. Within institutions that shape the country’s future, those choices matter most.

“It is wrong.”

Tadesse Werede (Lt. Gen.), president of the Interim Administration of Tigray, told Reyot, an online media, protesting the decision by the TPLF to reinstate the regional council, which was declared null and void under the Pretoria Agreement signed with the Federal Government. TPLF’s legal registration as a political party has been revoked by the National Electoral Board of Ethiopia (NEBE). Tadesse argued that doing so would be divisive of constituencies and political forces in the Regional State.

Bureau Reports Lease Enforcement Pushes City Land Revenue Higher

Addis Abeba’s Land Development & Administration Bureau reported collecting 14 billion Br over nine months, driven by land auctions and stricter enforcement of lease regulations.

According to the Bureau, the bulk of the revenue came from auctioning land and from measures targeting property owners using houses outside their lease agreements, requiring them to regularise their holdings. The Bureau disclosed the figures following a review of its nine-month performance, with officials attributing the outcome to improved system integration that has strengthened revenue collection. During the period, authorities conducted a third round of land auctions, transferring a total of 23.9 hectares. Enforcement efforts have intensified since September, when inspections were launched across all 11 districts to ensure compliance with the 2011 land lease law, which mandates strict adherence to designated land use. The inspections identified 2,969 houses operating without valid service licences. Of these, 2,581 owners have begun complying. Combined, revenue from land auctions and enforcement actions reached 14 billion Br over the nine-month period.

Parliament Ratifies New External Finance for Reform

Federal lawmakers have approved loan agreements totaling 190 million euros with the French Development Agency (FDA) and the European Investment Bank (EIB).

Of this, a 110 million euro loan comes from the EIB, while the remaining 80 million euros is from the FDA. The two loan agreements were ratified during last week’s regular parliamentary session.

The Council of Ministers had forwarded the two loan agreements to the House two weeks earlier. At the time of submission, it was reported that both loans are aligned with the Homegrown Economic Reform agenda.

Agriculture Ministry Reports Billions in Seedlings Ahead of National Campaign

The Ministry of Agriculture says it has prepared 8.1 billion seedlings for the upcoming summer nationwide tree-planting campaign, according to its nine-month performance report. The Ministry also reported that the agriculture sector generated three billion dollars during the same period, attributing the outcome to what it described as sustained sector-wide activity.

The announcement comes as the government continues to scale up its Green Legacy Initiative, which has featured increasingly ambitious planting targets in recent years, including claims of hundreds of millions of trees planted in single-day campaigns.

Separately, the City Administration has suspended fresh procurement activities, including seedlings.

City Launches Addis Mesob Centres to Overhaul Public Service Delivery System

Addis Abeba City Administration has begun rolling out the Addis Mesob One-Stop Service Centres, aimed at improving public service delivery and addressing governance challenges affecting efficiency. Mayor Adanech Abiebie said issues such as theft and maladministration have disrupted institutional performance, prompting structural reforms.

The centres, which consolidate multiple government services in one location, have so far been launched in six sub-cities, with the remaining five expected to become operational within the current fiscal year. Each centre currently offers around 150 services, with plans to double capacity in the next fiscal cycle.