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Author: Digital Editor

Restoring Africa’s Cul-ture, Philosophy Key to Development

Posted on by Digital Editor

By encouraging the discovery of truth, philosophy can provide the intellectual foundation for development and illuminate paths toward more cohesive and prosperous societies. As Victor Hugo put it, “Philosophy should be an energy; it should find its aim and its effect in the amelioration of mankind.”

But policymakers across Africa have overwhelmingly failed to emphasise this disposition. Rather than developing a collective consciousness to facilitate economic convergence and regional integration, most governments on the continent find themselves managing crisis after crisis. The stickiness of the colonial development model of resource extraction, which is fundamentally disconnected from Africa’s historical traditions and future aspirations, has only exacerbated the problem.

The neglect of philosophy, and the resulting ideological vacuum (especially in the policy arena), is also rooted in centuries of colonialism and slavery. The dehumanisation of Africans and the repression of their culture became integral to economic prosperity and wealth accumulation in Europe and America. It involved the systematic destruction of the social structures that defined African societies and held communities together, reflected today in chronically low trust in the state.

Colonial institutions also caused long-lasting psychological damage to Africans. They turned the descendants of great inventors, including the architects of the pyramids in Egypt and Sudan; the mathematicians who carved the Ishango and Lebombo bones; and the engineers, sailors, and navigators who constructed longboats capable of reaching South America and China as early as the 13th Century, into passive victims.

Colonialism made cultural discontinuity inevitable. Colonisers plundered and destroyed symbols of artistic, historical, and spiritual significance. According to recent estimates, nearly all of Africa’s material cultural legacy is located outside the continent, with Belgium alone possessing more than 180,000 African artworks. The looted artefacts range from manuscripts and musical instruments to palace doors and thrones, wooden statues, and ivory masks. The famed Benin Bronzes, which Nigeria has been trying to repatriate for decades, are scattered all over the world, including at Harvard University’s Peabody Museum.

Africans and African states were robbed of the spiritual anchors that shaped their collective imagination and shared history, and that would have promoted social cohesion and cultural continuity across generations. In a widely praised 2018 report on the restitution of African cultural goods commissioned by French President Emmanuel Macron, the authors described museums with looted art as being part of “a system of appropriation and alienation” that continues to strip Africans of the “spiritual nourishment that is the foundation of [their] humanity.”

Such spiritual starvation perpetuates the colonial development model of resource extraction that helped cause it. The model’s persistence has turned resource-rich Africa into the world’s poorest and most aid-dependent continent, and prevented it from developing meaningful manufacturing industries, which have been consistently shown to expand economic opportunities for workers and enhance global convergence. This set the stage for recurrent balance-of-payment crises and intergenerational poverty in Africa.

More than any other continent, Africa has been governed by political and economic models that do not reflect its own traditions and that have stifled development by widening the gap between the ingenious past and insipient present, as well as between actual and potential growth. It has also marginalised the continent in the progress toward the Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs) and global efforts to eradicate poverty. Tellingly, Africa is home to nearly 60pc of the world’s extreme poor, despite accounting for less than 18pc of its population.

In his 1986 book, “Decolonising the Mind,” the Kenyan writer Ngg wa Thiong’o warned Africans that achieving political independence would be easier than freeing oneself from the colonial mentality. Thiong’o was right. More than six decades after many African countries won independence, decolonising minds remains a challenge. The overwhelming majority of Africa’s population is still yearning for spiritual nourishment.

Repatriating looted African artefacts is an important first step, but it should be accompanied by the rebuilding of the physical and institutional infrastructure that preserved symbols of African identity and temporality for centuries before the colonial onslaught. This would help people recover the thread of an interrupted memory and reclaim African history, while increasing the potential for social transformation. In particular, reforming the education system to reflect the continent’s shared history and philosophical foundations could reshape contemporary African life.

The goal should be to create a shared superstructure that enhances continental coordination and strengthens the foundation of trust. This will ensure that individuals, businesses, and states can overcome the colonial mindset and foster a new collective imagination and development vision that is authentically African.

The African Continental Free Trade Area (ACFTA), which establishes a single market, is crucial to surmount the imaginary yet significant walls that have been erected between countries. But more should be done to reduce the short-term risks of competing priorities, balance-of-payments constraints always seem to trump long-term strategy, and to speak with one voice. Cultivating a collective African consciousness at this critical juncture would enable the continent to take advantage of economies of scale and demographic tailwinds to emerge as a major geopolitical player on the world stage.

Absent a strong ideological foundation in the post-independence era, African countries have long embraced development models and ideas that are rooted in the colonial system of exploitation and cultural repression. These models have trapped them in a vicious cycle of intergenerational poverty and aid dependency, and are now exacerbating the volatility and magnitude of shocks caused by climate change and intensifying migration pressures.

Africa’s future depends on its ability to transcend colonial constructs, leverage its rich cultural heritage, renew African dignity, and embrace development models grounded in Afrocentric philosophical and historical realities. In the words of the martyred anti-apartheid leader Steve Biko, “It is better to die for an idea that will live than live for an idea that will die.”

Stale Exchange Rates Hide Costs During Debt-for-Equity Conversions

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Companies hungry for cash face a familiar choice of either borrowing and repaying with interest or selling shares and sharing in the upside. Debt has fixed repayment dates, while equity involves surrendering a portion of ownership, and neither path is without its issues.

However, a third route, converting debt into equity, is gaining favour worldwide and appears in Ethiopia’s revised Commercial Code. The idea is simple. Lenders, for our case, are shareholders and are also foreign investors, exchange the money they are owed for stock, thereby strengthening a firm’s balance sheet without draining its day-to-day liquidity.

Any foreign loan first requires approval from the National Bank of Ethiopia (NBE), which vets whether a company truly needs the funds and grants lenders the right to repatriate principal and interest in hard currency. That double check reassures both investors and domestic firms. Still, one vexing issue, which exchange rate applies when the foreign-currency loan is converted into equity, persists. The rulebook is silent.

Bankers and officials tend to default to the “historic” rate —the Birr-to-Dollar level in effect when the shareholder loan was first registered. Instead of the rate on the day the conversion actually happens, they lock in the older figure. The approach is widespread within the Ethiopian Investment Commission and the Central Bank, although it is not codified in statute. The gap breeds uncertainty in foreign investment that Ethiopia can least afford.

Consider what happens when the Birr slides after a loan is logged. A lender agreeing to convert the debt later ends up with fewer Birr for the same dollars. The more the Birr weakens between registration and conversion, the bigger the haircut on the investor’s stake. The damage is real, not theoretical, and it pushes capital to the sidelines. Companies vying for fresh funds find doors slamming shut.

Imagine a foreign shareholder who lent one million dollars when the Birr traded at 50 to the dollar. Suppose the Birr later weakens to 150. Under Ethiopia’s standard practice, the conversion still values the loan at 50 million Birr. At the prevailing rate, the same dollars would fetch 150 million Br. The investor relinquishes the loan, strengthens the company, and ends up owning half the equity that today’s rate would justify. Small wonder lenders hesitate to swap.

Debt-for-equity swaps, when done properly, allow firms to trade liabilities for permanent capital and enable policymakers to shore up the external accounts. Loans eventually demand foreign currency for repayment, a headache for a country already tight on reserves. Equity, by contrast, stays put. It creates no future hard-currency outflow. Hence, macroeconomic policymakers should be cheering conversions, not hobbling them.

Nonetheless, the practice of using old rates makes conversions look punitive. Investors who could take their money back and walk away are punished for choosing to stay. They are compelled to absorb the entire exchange-rate loss. That tips incentives toward short-term lending rather than long-term partnership, throttling the very growth policymakers say they want.

Beyond the balance sheets, reputation is on the line. Global players track how emerging markets treat foreign capital. Rules that appear arbitrary or skewed send a loud message. For a country striving to woo direct investment, perceptions of unpredictability are toxic. There is also the wider economic effect. A thicker equity cushion inside domestic companies eases borrowing constraints, fuels expansion, and creates jobs.

Heavy leverage, on the other hand, drags on credit ratings and crowds out new borrowing. By tying swaps to a stale exchange rate, policy undercuts these broader benefits.

The legal argument for the historic rate is weak. Registration of a loan at the Central Bank is a compliance box to tick, not the moment an investor takes an economic stake. The real transaction occurs when debt is cancelled and shares are issued. Treating the administrative date as the decisive point misaligns regulation with substance and violates basic fairness. Matching valuation with current market conditions shields investors from avoidable currency risk and brings transparency.

Elsewhere, regulators usually peg the swap to the spot rate on the day of execution. Ethiopia could follow that lead and level the playing field overnight. They follow similar logic, and its own ambitions to grow industry, create jobs, and diversify exports depend on a steady inflow of patient capital.

The macro picture reinforces the case for change. Ethiopia’s balance of payments suffers when firms marshal scarce foreign exchange to honour debts. Equity conversions remove that looming strain. They also deepen domestic capital markets and build confidence that profits can be reinvested rather than remitted.

Sceptics argue that sticking with the historic rate protects against speculative timing or sudden conversion demands. Yet, those fears can be addressed through notice periods or caps without crippling valuations. What investors need most is clarity and parity with global norms and simple logic. Indeed, many markets require the use of the spot rate at conversion. Such rules do not ignite a rush to game the system. They simply align accounting with reality.

Failure to modernise carries opportunity costs. Companies weighed down by debt postpone projects, forego hiring, and struggle to compete. Banks hesitate to extend credit to firms that are already heavily leveraged. A straightforward fix, valuing swaps at the prevailing date rate, would flip those dynamics. Applying the prevailing rate can also cushion investors against swings they cannot control. Currency depreciation is a systemic risk, not a matter of individual misjudgment. Making one party absorb all of it is neither efficient nor equitable. Sharing risk through fair valuation keeps capital flowing and encourages reinvestment.

The gap between regulatory form and economic substance thus strikes at confidence. If investors cannot predict how their loans will be treated years down the road, they will price that uncertainty, or steer clear altogether. Ethiopia’s drive to industrialise and climb the value chain depends on reversing that perception. Thus, policymakers face a choice between continuing with an unwritten rule that discounts investor contributions or adopting a transparent, market-based measure. The latter course lowers financing costs and signals a commitment to fairness.

They can clearly indicate in the bylaws that debt-to-equity conversions use the exchange rate on the date of execution. They can also require companies to notify regulators in advance, allowing oversight without distorting value. They can tie any exceptions to clear and objective criteria.

Such reforms would resonate beyond balance sheets, amplifying the message that policymakers value long-term partnerships, respect economic reality, and price stability over procedural quirks. In an era of mobile capital and stiff competition for investment, that message could make the difference between stagnation and acceleration.

Ethio telecom Gains Face Test as Market Dominance Shadows Reform

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The World Bank’s latest assessment of Ethiopia’s telecom sector is cautiously optimistic. It rightly praises falling tariffs, rising mobile penetration, and the explosive adoption of digital finance. But while these indicators hint at reform momentum, they obscure a deeper reality.

Ethiopia’s telecom liberalisation risks stalling unless reform extends beyond revenue metrics into the more difficult terrain of governance, competition, and institutional accountability.

Ethio telecom’s financial performance makes it stand out among state-owned enterprises, along with the Commercial Bank of Ethiopia (CBE) and Ethiopian Airlines. The company’s revenues have nearly tripled since 2017, reaching about 700 million dollars in 2024. Its mobile money platform, Telebirr, has attracted more than 50 million users in only three years. These are impressive figures, often cited as proof of telecom’s success story. But strong financials alone do not ensure a level playing field.

Beneath the numbers lies a distorted market structure that heavily favours the incumbent. Ethio telecom, the state-owned incumbent, still dominates the market, while Safaricom Ethiopia, which has invested hundreds of millions of dollars, struggles to gain ground. Two attempts at privatisation have failed to draw serious interest. The larger question is whether the telecom reform will produce genuine competition or slip back into a monopoly under a different name.

Ethio telecom controls the backbone infrastructure, leaving new entrants with two costly choices of whether to lease access on unfavourable terms or build parallel networks. Unlike Safaricom Ethiopia, which paid nearly 800 dollars for its license, Ethio telecom entered the market without comparable costs. It charges below the cost-reflective Mobile Termination Rate, cross-subsidises services, enjoys privileged access to government contracts, and has restricted access to competing applications.

These advantages may lower consumer prices in the short run, but they weaken incentives for private investment and threaten the sustainability of competition.

Privatisation was supposed to correct this imbalance, but Ethiopia’s experience has shown the limits of cosmetic reform. The government’s plan to sell a 40pc to 45pc stake in Ethio telecom drew no serious bidders. A later attempt to float 10pc of shares on the new securities exchange was undersubscribed, with barely more than one percent sold. These outcomes do not reflect a lack of confidence in the telecom sector’s potential, but rather a rational response to governance risks.

Minority investors are wary of entering a market where the incumbent enjoys sovereign protection and regulatory enforcement remains uncertain.

The World Bank’s report acknowledges these structural issues, yet its policy advice sticks to the usual script. Its authors insist on privatisation to speed up, deepen liberalisation and expand foreign capital participation. What the report understates is the political economy of state ownership. Ethio telecom is not only a company but a fiscal pillar and a strategic tool of state policy. The government has used it to drive expansion in digital finance and even into new sectors such as electric vehicle charging stations.

In this context, privatisation is not simply a transfer of ownership. It brings with it a shift in economic and political power.

Missing from the debate is a broader assessment of Ethio telecom’s performance beyond the balance sheet. A financial audit captures profits and losses but says little about how services affect consumers and the broader economy. The company needs a social audit, an evaluation of inclusiveness, fairness and quality. Such an audit would ask whether low-cost data and voice bundles genuinely promote access or whether they amount to predatory pricing that drives out competitors. It would assess whether the very low average revenue per user, around one dollar a month, among the lowest in Africa, reflects affordability or a structural trap that limits reinvestment in infrastructure, resulting in unreliable service.

Telebirr’s dominance, while its rapid adoption is impressive, the concentration of digital finance under a state-backed telecom raises the risk of market foreclosure. Independent fintech firms face barriers that could stifle innovation and limit consumer choice. A social audit would examine these dynamics and provide the accountability that financial reports cannot.

Shifting the focus from ideology to accountability would give reform real traction. Ethio telecom should be judged not only by the size of its revenues but also whether it provides reliable service, supports fair competition and promotes digital inclusion. Strengthening regulatory oversight through such metrics would create a clearer picture of how the company serves the public interest.

The cost of avoiding this recalibration is becoming clear. Safaricom Ethiopia reported losses six times its revenue in 2024. Without firm enforcement of competitive neutrality, private entrants may exit, leaving the country with a de facto monopoly and reversing the consumer benefits of liberalisation. The state might continue to enjoy Ethio telecom’s fiscal surpluses, but the broader economy would lose the energy that comes from private innovation and competition.

Ethiopia does not need privatisation for its own sake. What it needs is credibility and proper sequencing. Strategic infrastructure with national security implications can remain under state control, but consumer-facing services such as broadband, mobile money and related ventures should be opened to private players under clear and fair rules. Most importantly, Ethio telecom should adopt social audits alongside financial audits to ensure its role as a market leader aligns with public goals of inclusion, innovation, and consumer welfare.

Flower Export Reforms Put Vital Partnership on the Test

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A long-overdue update to the floriculture export regime is taking effect, but it arrives with a double edge. After protracted consultations with growers, officials of the Ministry of Agriculture have formulated new minimum export prices for cut flowers, to be enforced by the National Bank of Ethiopia (NBE) beginning October 13, 2025.

It marks the first across-the-board increase in years, offering a moderate revenue bump but also testing the credibility of an enforcement system riddled with opacity and trust deficits. The floor price hikes, ranging from 7.27pc to over 15pc depending on altitude and variety, will affect nearly all exporters. Lowland roses, coming particularly from the busy Ziway horticultural export cluster, which now accounts for 40pc of volume, see the highest gain at 11.41pc. Highland summer flowers will fetch 5.26 dollars a kilogram, a 10pc rise.

On paper, these adjustments could generate an additional 60 million to 70 million dollars annually, a deliberate measure in a foreign currency-starved economy. But the fine print reveals deeper fault lines.

Unlike static reference rates, the updated floors are tied to self-declared and real-time data from exporters through commercial banks. If the declared price meets or exceeds the floor, the forex flows. If not, the bank will not give a fresh export permit) Theoretically, the system is designed to curb under-invoicing and safeguard repatriated earnings. In practice, the process often amounts to rubber-stamping invoices that meet the floor, with little scrutiny of whether the numbers reflect fair market value, or subtle offshore discounting.

This system depends on a basic level of trust between regulatory institutions and exporters, a relationship that empowers and restrains the sector. According to the Central Bank’s directive, this trust is counterbalanced by clear requirements. Exporters should sell their blossom at prevailing market prices and repatriate all foreign currency earnings in full. Issued in 2006, the directive makes the Central Bank responsible for ensuring compliance through a thorough ex post price verification process. This mechanism provides transparency and accuracy in reporting the actual selling prices achieved in foreign markets, thereby building trust among all stakeholders, from governments and exporters to buyers.

Currently, the ex-post price verification process overseen by the Central Bank primarily focuses on monitoring compliance with the government’s minimum price policy. However, the scope of these checks extends further. It also includes reviewing actual selling prices over time, detecting any instances of price discrimination, such as exporters offering different prices to different buyers for the same flower varieties, and looking into barriers to entry or unfair pricing practices that could undermine competitiveness in international markets.

While this system is built on a foundation of trust and regulatory oversight, it is not without its challenges. One of the biggest hurdles regulators face is the lack of direct access to timely and reliable market intelligence. Supermarkets, retailers, and global flower auction platforms possess a wealth of data on demand trends, average selling prices per stem, top-performing flower varieties, and export destinations. Unfortunately, strict confidentiality agreements keep most of this information out of public reach. This leaves price regulators heavily dependent on exporters’ self-reported data, a situation that comes with its own set of complications.

Some in the sector worry that this reliance on self-reported data is a double-edged sword. It may allow exporters to provide timely information, but it also opens the door to underreporting and errors. The question of whether this dependence on self-reported data constitutes a strength or a weakness is largely a matter of perspective. Sceptics argue that when exporters know their numbers are not subject to rigorous checks, the temptation to misreport can rise, potentially undermining the integrity of the entire pricing system.

This tension has made it clear that the sector should find the right balance between trusting exporter data and strengthening verification. Improved accountability and transparency can help make the self-declared figures more reliable and ensure that policy decisions are rooted in facts, not guesswork. By doing so, Ethiopia could solidify its reputation as a trusted and competitive supplier in the global flower market, reaping the rewards of increased earnings and stronger investor confidence.

Regulators’ move to introduce a minimum floor price regime is widely viewed as a step in the right direction for managing foreign currency repatriation in its fast-growing cut flower industry. Still, some in the industry look across the border to Kenya, the world’s leading cut flower exporter, and see a different path.

Unlike Ethiopia’s mandatory pricing policy, Kenya favours a more flexible and market-driven approach. There, the system is supported by advanced data analytics, risk profiling, and rigorous post-clearance audits, enabling exporters to operate with greater freedom while maintaining high oversight standards. This divergence has led many Ethiopian growers to wonder why their own industry does not embrace a similarly flexible approach for monitoring selling prices and foreign exchange repatriation.

However, Kenya’s experience reveals that a purely market-driven system has its own pitfalls. The risk of under-invoicing, where exporters declare artificially low prices to shift profits overseas and reduce their tax liabilities, is a major concern. Reports have surfaced showing that declared export prices for Kenyan flowers sometimes fall below the corresponding import prices in European markets, a mismatch that cannot be easily explained by transport costs alone.

In documented cases around Lake Naivasha, exporters and revenue officials engage in what one observer calls a “cat and mouse game,” with under-invoicing costing Kenya millions of dollars in foreign exchange each year. The losses do not stop there. Lower declared profits also mean less corporate tax, reduced withholding tax on disguised dividends, and less taxable income from the flower sector overall. This persistent under-reporting of export values leads to illicit financial outflows and deprives the Kenyan government of vital revenue needed for public investment and services.

As Ethiopia confronts similar risks, its policymakers are being urged to go beyond reliance on trust. The need for reform is clear. By putting in place stronger mechanisms for export price verification, they can better combat the persistent problem of under-invoicing and ensure exporters contribute fairly to national development. The answer lies in combining transparency with data-driven tools, creating an environment where all parties are held accountable and the industry operates on a level playing field.

The push for greater transparency is not unique to Ethiopia. Around the world, countries are experimenting with digital ex-post price verification, seasonal forward pricing, and other strategies to create a fairer market for exporters. These lessons offer a chance to develop new regulatory frameworks that balance flexibility with accountability. Such changes would protect the sector’s integrity and unlock new resources for public investment and future growth.

The regulatory spotlight may often fall on exporters’ selling prices, but industry insiders say it is equally important to examine auditors’ roles. Are auditors exercising the necessary professional scepticism and clarity concerning the assumptions and information relevant to the floriculture sector, rather than merely rubber-stamping claims?. The search for an industrial standard that can ensure fair tax assessments while accurately reflecting a company’s financial health and reputation remains ongoing.

True transparency should be mutual. When only one party is open about its operations and the other is not, the resulting imbalance can erode trust and create inefficiencies. A one-sided approach to transparency is ultimately unsustainable. It stifles business growth and leaves the sector vulnerable to criticism and instability.

The cut flower industry now stands at a crossroads. The introduction of new minimum floor prices, coupled with renewed transparency, offers a path toward sustainable growth. By blending trust with robust systems for accountability, all stakeholders, from growers and exporters to regulators and service providers, can share in its successes. With the right reforms, the floriculture sector can remain competitive, transparent, and profitable for years to come.

Green Shipping Could Mean a Green Africa

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In early September, African leaders convened in Addis Abeba for the Second Africa Climate Summit, which focused on overcoming the obstacles to climate-resilient development on the continent. In their efforts to devise solutions, drive innovation, and attract financing, these leaders are reshaping global climate action.

As part of that process, they are increasingly recognising that decarbonising shipping, an industry that generates nearly three percent of global greenhouse-gas (GHG) emissions, could be a powerful catalyst for Africa’s green industrialisation. African governments have already emerged as key players in negotiations on reducing shipping emissions. Earlier this year, they helped secure the approval of the Net-Zero Framework at the International Maritime Organisation (IMO), the United Nations’ maritime regulator.

Included in the framework is the world’s first binding pricing mechanism on GHG emissions from ships. This measure, which the IMO is expected to adopt formally at its upcoming October session, represents an important victory for multilateral climate action and signals the beginning of the end of shipping’s dependence on fossil fuels.

But the real test will be how this crucial policy is designed and implemented over the next few years. For African governments, the biggest question is how the revenues generated from the IMO’s pricing mechanism, projected to be 10 billion to 15 billion dollars a year by 2030, will be used. If distributed equitably, these funds could help Africa close its huge energy gap, upgrade its port infrastructure and fleets, and invest in transmission networks and grids that could unlock its vast renewable-energy potential, especially in geothermal, wind, and solar.

A resilient grid is also essential for producing renewable hydrogen and other green e-fuels, the most promising long-term clean-energy solution for the shipping industry. This would likely provide a boost to Africa’s existing green-hydrogen projects and spur new ones, thereby accelerating industrialisation, boosting GDP, and positioning the continent as a global energy exporter.

Until now, Africa has faced challenges in developing its abundant renewable resources largely because of the high cost of capital. African economies remain weighed down by unsustainable debt burdens and low credit ratings, which make it prohibitively expensive to invest in clean energy. Given the perceived risks, the continent currently receives only around two percent of global investment in renewables. But the revenues raised from the IMO’s new carbon-pricing mechanism could be used to lower initial costs, de-risk clean-energy investments, and pave the way for Africa to power global shipping.

Crucially, the IMO should support this drive to harness Africa’s renewable resources by creating strong incentives for e-fuels. Otherwise, cheaper options such as liquefied natural gas, which is far more destructive to the planet, and crop-based biofuels, which increase pressure on food systems, risk undercutting green hydrogen and impeding African countries’ efforts to achieve sustainable growth and development.

The increased use of biofuels would be particularly catastrophic for African countries. In my country, Nigeria, where millions of people already face acute hunger, diverting crops to create fuel for ships, often carrying goods and supplies bound for wealthy countries, would be both immoral and economically reckless. Generating biofuels would likely worsen food insecurity and increase deforestation, GHG emissions, and land degradation, in some cases, to a greater extent than fossil-fuel production.

Like many other African countries, Nigeria has everything it takes to become a leader in sustainable shipping fuels, including abundant sun and wind, and a young workforce. Now it needs the right investments. If designed properly, the IMO’s framework could help provide the funds Africa needs to ramp up its renewable energy capacity. Failure to create an ambitious and equitable policy risks limiting Africa’s prospects.

As the IMO gathers in London this month to adopt its Net-Zero Framework, African countries should show the same leadership and determination as they did at the Second Africa Climate Summit in Addis Abeba. Ensuring that the continent reaps the benefits of the IMO’s new mechanism would be a remarkable example of international cooperation. A climate-resilient future is within reach, so long as African voices are heard, and taken seriously, on the global stage.

The Power of Staying Unexplainable

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There’s a version of us that lives in our parents’ minds, the child they raised, frozen in time no matter how old we get. Another version exists with our friends, the one who laughs at their jokes and keeps their secrets. Then there’s the version our coworkers know: polished, composed, and conveniently stripped of chaos.

The truth is, everyone we know carries a private version of us. And none of those portraits are entirely accurate.

We spend an astonishing amount of time trying to manage these perceptions. We soften our tone so we don’t seem harsh. We over-explain to appear thoughtful. We replay conversations in our heads, hoping we didn’t sound detached or defensive. Yet, despite all that effort, misunderstanding remains a stubborn companion.

Someone will always take silence as arrogance, confidence as conceit, or kindness as naivety.

A friend recently confessed how exhausting it feels to be misunderstood. As he tries to rebuild his life, people’s assumptions about his choices, his job, his marriage, even his hobbies — weigh heavier than his actual challenges. His experience mirrors what many of us know too well: the futility of trying to control how others see us.

People’s perceptions are less about us and more about them, shaped by their biases, wounds, and expectations. You could be as clear as daylight, and still, someone will choose to see fog.

Think of the times a brief text was mistaken for anger, or a polite decline for disinterest. One candid comment can earn you the label “difficult.” The pattern is absurdly predictable, and deeply human.

In trying to fit others’ expectations, we stretch ourselves thin. We perform versions of who we think we should be: agreeable at work, lively with friends, polished online. Over time, the gap between who we are and who people think we are becomes exhausting.

We juggle identities we never signed up for, all in pursuit of harmony and approval. But even our most careful performance can’t guarantee understanding. People will still believe what they want to believe.

Because, in their stories, we’re not the protagonist, we’re a side character, interpreted through their plot. To one person, we’re the villain who disappointed them. To another, we’re the hero who saved the day. And to someone else entirely, we’re just background noise.

Their stories are not the truth.

The version of us that lives in our own awareness, the one who knows our intentions, regrets, and heart, is the only version that matters. That’s where peace begins: when we stop auditioning for everyone else’s approval.

Social media complicates this further. Once, we performed for small circles, family, friends, colleagues. Now, we perform for invisible crowds. Every post becomes an invitation for judgment. Write something kind, you’re accused of virtue signaling. Share something honest, you’re “oversharing.” Stay silent, and you’re “cold.”

It’s a rigged game with shifting rules.

The endless feedback loop of likes and comments tempts us to curate our identities, to be “understood” by as many as possible. But in that chase, we lose touch with the person who doesn’t need an audience to exist.

Being misunderstood hurts, but peace doesn’t come from correcting every wrong impression. It comes from recognising that those impressions were never ours to control in the first place.

Psychologists call this social perception the brain’s shortcut to make sense of people. But shortcuts come with bias: confirmation bias makes others interpret our actions to fit their beliefs; the halo effect idealises us; the horn effect vilifies us.

When someone “decides” who we are, it’s rarely about fact. It’s about projection.

Understanding that frees us. Judgment stops feeling like a mirror and starts looking like a reflection of someone else’s insecurities or assumptions.

Imagine the relief of no longer managing our reputation in every room. That energy could be redirected toward being decent, honest, and intentional. Not perfect, just present.

When we stop performing, authenticity takes over. Ironically, that’s when the right people begin to see us clearly because we’re finally showing up as ourselves.

Peace isn’t about universal understanding. It’s about being at ease in our own skin, even when misunderstood by most.

There’s quiet power in being unexplainable in knowing that our worth isn’t up for debate, and our truth doesn’t need a translator.

Once we make peace with that, no opinion, good or bad, can shake it.

The Savior Complex, When Helping Hurts

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I have this one friend who absolutely amazes me. She’s fiercely loyal, always trying to help, and practically incapable of saying no. When she does manage to decline something, she’s apologizing for it moments later. She’s the kind of person who would drop everything, including her own family obligations, to rescue a friend in need.

We all love her for this huge, selfless heart. Yet lately, she’s been running on fumes, trying to accommodate everyone at the expense of her own health and family time. Being there for everyone else, at the end of the day, strips you of the energy you need to be there for yourself.

When the toll finally began to show, she reached out to me; the group’s resident “shrink.” Okay, I’m flattering myself. But because I’ve studied a bit of psychology, my friends often come to me for advice. (No, I didn’t treat her formally; therapy rules about boundaries with friends are clear.) After listening to her story, I reaffirmed what I already knew: she is genuinely an amazing soul. She doesn’t help people to look good or out of hidden motives. She helps because it feels right to be the one who can fix things. Unfortunately, not everyone needs fixing, and not every problem can be solved by one person.

She was struggling. She wanted to know how to help others without draining herself completely or drowning in guilt when she couldn’t be available 24/7. That’s when I reminded her of a concept psychologists call the savior complex.

I think we all know a “Savior.” Maybe you work with them, maybe you live with them, or maybe, just maybe, you’re looking in the mirror right now.

A Savior, or someone gripped by what we might politely call the savior complex, is the person whose impulse to help is so powerful it drowns out every alarm bell in their own life. They are the ones who would run into a burning building for a stranger.

This isn’t about being nice. It’s about being compelled, the drive to rescue, fix, or carry someone else’s burden, even when doing so leaves your own emotional reserves, bank account, or sanity depleted. It is noble, beautiful, and utterly exhausting.

The compulsion to save often starts with the best of intentions. We’ve all felt that rush of purpose when we solve a friend’s crisis. It’s validation, a clean win in a messy world. When you’re helping someone else, their problem becomes concrete, manageable, and, crucially, a great distraction from your own looming uncertainties.

But when you continuously pour from your cup into everyone else’s, you eventually run dry. And a dry well can’t help anyone. The Savior’s life becomes a paradox: they’re surrounded by people they’ve helped, yet they often feel utterly alone and unable to ask for help themselves.

And here’s the cruel twist, after many sacrifices, Saviors often end up resenting the people they saved. Not because they’re bad people, but because they’re human. When you give until it hurts, you subconsciously expect the universe or the person you helped, to give back. When they don’t, resentment creeps in, staining what was once a pure, selfless act. The “savior” becomes the “martyr,” and martyrdom, no matter how righteous, is lonely and bitter.

So my friend asked: how can she make the shift from being a Savior to being a supporter?

It starts with acknowledging a simple truth: you cannot pour from an empty cup.

We need to trade the theatrical cape for a sensible, boundary-setting vest. Being a true friend, partner, or colleague doesn’t mean sacrificing your own oxygen; it means showing up consistently and sustainably.

Think of the airplane safety talk: put your own oxygen mask on first before assisting others. It sounds selfish, but it’s the purest form of logic. If you pass out, you’re no good to anyone. When you take care of your sleep, your finances, and your mental health, you become a source of steady strength, someone whose support lasts beyond the crisis moment.

Ultimately, the best way to save the world, or even just your corner of it, is to stay well enough to keep showing up. Stop chasing the feeling of indispensability. Start embracing the quiet, radical heroism of taking care of yourself. The world doesn’t just need people willing to help; it needs people healthy enough to keep helping for the long run.

In a world often criticized for its selfishness, Saviors are a beautiful anomaly. Our job isn’t to exploit their kindness but to remind them, gently, lovingly, that even heroes need rest. Let’s make sure that incredible kindness bar never runs dry.

“The country is bleeding – economically – due to internal conflicts.”

Posted on by Digital Editor

Tsadikan Gebretensay (Lt. Gen.), a veteran military leader, told the National Broadcasting Corporation (NBC), while promoting his new initiative, the Movement for Change in Tigray.

Oromia Bank, Ethiopian Airlines Introduce Fly Now, Pay Later via Milkii Digital App

Posted on by Digital Editor

Oromia Bank’s Milkii Digital App, launched on May 3, 2025, has introduced a “Fly Now, Pay Later” service that lets customers book Ethiopian Airlines tickets using digital loans, with payments spread over six months after travel with 16.5 interest rate and allows customers to book flights upto 300,000 Br. Developed in collaboration with Ethiopian Airlines, the platform is part of a broader effort to expand digital finance and simplify access to services. The initiative seeks to enhance convenience for travelers, reduce cash flow barriers, and accelerate the country’s digital transformation.

The three-way partnership, uniting the bank, airline, and fintech developer, positions Milkii as a tool to promote flexible payments and greater financial inclusion in the country’s evolving digital ecosystem.

Revenue, Customs Launch Eight New Tech Systems

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The Ministry of Revenues and the Ethiopian Customs Commission have unveiled eight digital systems designed to modernize tax and customs operations. The launch took place during the 7th Honest Taxpayers Recognition and Awards Program at the Addis Abeba International Convention Center, attended by Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed (PhD).

The new platforms include the Ethiopian Electronic Cargo Tracking System, Smart Customs Border Control System, AI-based Customs Chatbot, AI-powered Passenger Risk Management System, Electronic Receipt Management System, Electronic Clearance, Electronic Tax Refund System, and the Customs Revenue Collection Performance Monitoring System.

Officials say the technologies seeks to boost efficiency, transparency, and security across revenue and customs services.

Millions in Unsafe Food, Health Items Seised Across Addis Abeba

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The Addis Abeba Food & Drug Authority (AAFDA) removed unsafe and expired food and health products valued at over 23.3 million birr following extensive inspections during the New Year, Meskel, and Irreecha holidays. The move aimed to protect public health and curb illegal market activities.

Over a 90-day period, the Authority inspected 2,180 establishments, taking administrative measures against 97, including 87 warnings, 8 closures, and 2 fines. Another 454 food production and illegal slaughter sites were inspected, resulting in 22 administrative actions.

Seized items included 918 kg of food, 2,018 liters of beverages, and 15 kg of health-related products deemed unfit for consumption. During the New Year inspection alone, 425 chickens valued at 210,000 birr were confiscated for unsafe handling and illegal slaughter.

The AAFDA also monitored more than 4,500 food and health institutions, issuing penalties ranging from written warnings and closures to license revocations for repeated violations. Officials say the crackdown underscores the city’s commitment to safeguarding consumers and strengthening enforcement of food safety standards.