“The key to our people's survival does not lie in weapons or wealth but in culture.” This quote, which resonated with me while watching a documentary, captures the essence of how societies endure across generations. In anthropology, culture is described as the lifeblood of a society—the software that drives societal functions through institutions like religion, economy, polity, education and family. It is what binds communities together and ensures continuity.

However, culture can also be fragile. In today’s globally connected world, one of the most effective ways to dismantle a society is to undermine its cultural values. Disruption of these values weakens the societal fabric, threatening its continuity. This may seem inevitable as globalisation accelerates, exposing societies to a constant influx of external influences.

In Addis Abeba, for instance, it is not uncommon to see Christmas trees during the holiday season—an image borrowed from Northern European traditions, specifically Germany. Alongside this, Santa Claus—a bearded figure who allegedly slips down chimneys to leave gifts—has also become a holiday fixture.

Growing up, I remember Christmas plays and carols in Amharic, although I only later realised that these were translations from English. Today, however, the holiday has taken on a more global, pop-culture meaning, shifting from its original religious context. Ironically, while these Western symbols of Christmas are increasingly embraced, traditional Ethiopian customs like Yegena Chewata (a hockey-like game played during the holiday) are fading from memory. The introduction of foreign customs has, in many cases, overshadowed the old ways, raising questions about what is being lost in this cultural exchange.

The allure of foreign cultural practices seems to lie in their novelty and accessibility through media, consumerism, and the internet. Some customs, like Mother’s and Father’s Days—celebrated on the second Sunday of May and the third Sunday of June, respectively—have been welcomed with open arms in Ethiopia. These days have found a place in social media circles and have become part of the family tradition, transcending cultural boundaries. What surprises me is how quickly these celebrations have become ingrained in society, as if they had always been there.

However, the appeal of these imported customs reflects deeper forces at play. Businesses play a major role in driving the adoption of foreign holidays. Valentine’s Day, for instance, has become one of the most pervasive cultural imports. In major cities, people now invest heavily in gifts, parties, and special dinners to mark the day. Hotels and restaurants capitalise on this by offering Valentine’s-themed events, transforming the day into a major economic driver. The commercialisation of such holidays shows how globalisation merges with consumerism to facilitate the spread of foreign traditions.

There are still cultural celebrations that remain largely confined to their original contexts, such as Thanksgiving in the U.S. While Thanksgiving may be tied to the specific historical experience of the Pilgrims in the New World, its core message of gratitude resonates across cultures. Some European countries and Canada have already adopted it, and it wouldn’t be surprising if it spread further in the coming years.

In Ethiopia, youth culture has increasingly embraced foreign traditions, especially during school graduation seasons. I recall during my high school days, students paraded down Churchill Road in elaborate costumes, face paint, and eccentric outfits. The “Crazy Day” tradition—where boys dressed as girls and vice versa—was a part of this spectacle, although its origins remain unclear. My son tells me this quirky tradition still persists today. Such moments demonstrate the extent to which foreign customs take root, especially among younger generations who are often the first to adopt global trends.