Near Tele Bar, near National Theatre, in Addis Abeba, a customer in a suite enters condescendingly into a barbershop and is directed to a chair by a thin-lipped and moustached barber who flicks, twitches and jerks his whiskers in a fashion that communicates general disapproval of his new client.

The customer confidently takes his seat and lays out what he wants done with his hair, “Please even it out and trim it all around. I want all sides to be equal and none of that Kuncho, taper-fade stuff on the top of my forehead.”

The barber’s oval face and unruly whiskers flap ferociously, like the twisting wings of a hummingbird; and several incomprehensible syllables escape from under his moustached lips that were only intelligible to him and his lady assistant.

The assistant hands him his cape and a red nylon gown and grunts her approval of her boss and her disapproval of the customer. A piece of thin cotton fabric is wrapped around the collar, the gown flapped across the upper body and tightly tied around the neck with a measure of intent to make the client cringe with a noticeable discomfort.

But the customer endures, occasionally taking furtive glances at his transforming head in the mirror, while the barber continues quivering his cheeks and moustache as a warning sign to any suggestion by his victim.

Midway through the process, a weak squeal comes from under the head, which is now being held firmly with one hand by the barber, while the other hand holds a vibrating clipper close to the client’s ear.

“Could you trim it around the ear and the back of the head?”

Nothing more was done to the hair and the gown is quickly whisked away. The client - with a prominent kuncho firmly planted on his forehead and the back of his head untrimmed - rises from the barber chair, dusts his clothing, pays an exorbitant fee and leaves the shop without the same confidence with which he walked in.

It is not unusual in Ethiopia for customers to find themselves holding the short end of the stick while dealing with customer service, but it is seldom to be the recipient of rude service. The distinction between poor and rude service is important, since Ethiopians are naturally predisposed to avoid rudeness in their social encounters.

But there is a universal malaise that overhangs customer service, a general attitude conveyed by service providers not to bother them and to leave them alone. This brashness permeates into almost every fabric of the business sector that it is unavoidable to notice. Even when the self-interest of the entrepreneur or the businessperson is directly concerned, providing service to a client is considered a privilege bestowed upon the recipient, not the other way around.

A sleepy, tiny pharmacy with a handful of daily transactions in Kazanchis employs three people who loaf around all day ordering meals, tinkering with their smartphones and engaged in conversations that fill their hours.

During a recent visit, a customer’s prescription is received by one of the attendants who take the note over to the pharmacist, who is sitting behind a desk sipping tea. From her sitting position, the pharmacist issues an order to the attendant and points to a medicine cabinet from which to fetch the drug. The package is wrapped and the client is told to pay the cashier who is sitting just inches away from the attendant.