One morning, I had the rare chance to drop off my son at his class at Addis Abeba University. Being on vacation made this possible. Under normal circumstances, getting to work on time and drop-offs is not practical.

The drive was smooth until I reached Arat Kilo roundabout. I assumed the construction there was finished. But I had forgotten the Arat Kilo-Amist Kilo corridor was still under construction. We had to detour through Kidist Mariam and Yekatit 12 Hospital to reach the Faculty of Business & Economics campus. Taking the direct route would have been a nightmare as there was severe traffic congestion.

Luckily, a traffic police officer hitchhiked a ride near Hilton Hotel and suggested an alternative route. His radio buzzed with chatter as his colleagues discussed managing the heavy traffic. He told me that the ongoing project had made traffic control more difficult, with officers working extra hours to handle the chaos.



Once I dropped my son off at class, I took the new road to Piassa and continued to Churchill Road. Escaping the chaos felt like a relief. But it was not the first time I faced it.

The corridor project brings mixed feelings. The finished roads, sidewalks, and bike lanes are a major improvement in the city’s functionality and appearance. But the ongoing construction, road closures, and detours are a serious inconvenience in an already congested city.



One change is the removal of parking spaces in front of major buildings. For years, we relied on these spots without a second thought. We took them for granted. They are no longer available. I first noticed this at the Bilos Pastry cafe near Snap Plaza, in front of the Millennium Hall. It used to be a favourite spot where customers could park, or enjoy coffee in their cars. Now, finding parking nearby is almost impossible.

For nearly a decade, I had a morning habit: coffee and a fresh croissant at Bilos cafe.



On another occasion, I tried to park at one of my favourite spots, Mamokacha Cafe in the CMC neighbourhood. The restaurant used to have a spacious parking lot where customers could dine in their cars. After driving by a few times and finding no parking, I called to check. I learnt they no longer had parking spaces. Walk-ins or takeaways were the only options.

If I wanted to eat at Mamokacha, I would have to park far away, making the visit inconvenient and not worth the time. This was not an uncommon instance. Many businesses that once had parking in front of their buildings now face the same issue. I could not help but wonder not only about the inconvenience for customers but also the revenue these businesses must be losing.


One particularly frustrating area is the road from Bole to Megenagna. It was renovated recently. It was then torn apart and rebuilt as part of the corridor project. The constant reconstruction seems wasteful. But when completed, the road was one of the most functional and spacious in the city.



Unfortunately, it is now closed again, this time because of renovations at Megenagna Square. I had to take a bypass through Kotebe and the overhead highway to reach the Imperial Hotel. On this trip, I got lost and had to circle several times to find my favourite car wash near the hotel. After missing the spot twice and spending considerable time searching, I finally recognised a small cobblestone entrance leading to the car wash.

When I arrived, I found the car wash had been demolished. The space was now a lawn. I later learned the facility was being reconstructed near the Egziabherab Church. I could not locate the area earlier due to the green corrugated sheet blocking the construction site. In hindsight, I should have called beforehand. Because the restaurant owned by the car wash was still functional and could have provided me with the new location.

Addis Abeba motorists need to embrace GPS-based traffic systems or tools showing road closures and congestion. The city’s layout is changing rapidly due to the corridor project, making it harder to rely on mental maps of familiar landmarks. A satellite image of Addis Abeba from a few years ago would look drastically different today. The fast-rising skyscrapers, redesigned squares, and changing landmarks often confuse even longtime residents.

I remember driving from the St. Giorgis Church and feeling completely disoriented when passing the Addis Abeba City Municipality building after the Adwa Museum reopened. It was not the only time I felt lost in a city I thought I knew. I cannot imagine how challenging it must be for visitors from other places or abroad to find their way.

The corridor project is an ambitious undertaking. I doubt any other initiative has reshaped the city’s landscape, economy, and future as profoundly. While debates continue over whether residents and businesses along the routes were fairly compensated, the project’s monumental impact on the city’s development is undeniable. Addis Abeba is being transformed beyond recognition.


What is most remarkable is the demonstration of local expertise and capacity in executing such a fairly complex project. This will stand as a legacy for everyone involved.

I remember the cobblestone road project from a decade ago, which improved neighbourhoods and created jobs for thousands of youth. That was an important project. But it is less important compared with the corridor project. This new undertaking is a game-changer, transforming the city from slumber into a modern metropolis.

For now, we will endure detours and clouds of dust as construction continues. It reminds me of a rural resident of the State of Texas who was asked if the noise of oil fracking on his land bothered him. He laughed and said, “I never mind it, it is the sound of money in my pocket.” Similarly, the inconvenience in Addis Abeba is a price we pay for progress. Once the dust settles, the city will emerge as the sparkling jewel it was meant to be. No pain, no gain.



PUBLISHED ON Nov 30,2024 [ VOL 25 , NO 1283]



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