The Subtler African Stories Lodged in Luxury

The Subtler African Stories Lodged in Luxury

May 24 , 2025. By Eden Sahle ( Eden Sahle is founder and CEO of Yada Technology Plc. She has studied law with a focus on international economic law. She can be reached at edensah2000@gmail.com. )

Every family has its ritual, one that bookmarks the year and brings everyone back to center. For ours, it’s the quiet, recurring pilgrimage to Kuriftu Resorts. Whether nestled in Bishoftu’s lakeside calm or perched in the cool canopy of Entoto, these retreats have offered more than just luxury. They have given us rhythm. Familiarity. That reluctant sigh that comes with checkout.

But this visit was different.

Kuriftu did not just offer rest this time. It gave us something layered, an experience stitched with identity, memory, and the quiet assertion of African complexity.

We were hosting family from the US for their semi-annual visit, and our gathering led us to the Africa Village Kuriftu Resort & Spa in Burayu. Just outside Addis Ababa and set atop a serene hill, the resort offers a sweeping view of the capital’s vast sprawl. It does not immediately declare itself as “Africa in miniature,” but it lives the idea with quiet intent.

Each of the 54 villas is themed after an African country. The architecture, artwork, furnishings, even the books and color palettes, work in concert to evoke the cultural essence of a nation. It is the kind of curation you would expect from a museum, not a resort. But here, it is interwoven with the polish of leisure and luxury.

Our family occupied four villas: Ethiopia, Egypt, Guinea, and Eritrea. My husband, daughter, and I stayed in the Eritrean villa. What began as a place to sleep became a space that breathed memory. The photographs, artifacts, and books summoned stories I had heard as a child, fragments of my father’s voice made tangible.

Unlike the other villas, the Eritrean one held books, actual reading material that gently walked us through the country’s history, culture, and psyche. That touch transformed the space. Eritrea was no longer just a country to me that weekend. It was a scent. A texture. A chair beside a window. It was the incense drifting through the air. A tactile archive. A lived intimacy.

That is a rare gift: to encounter a nation not as a news headline, but as a room.

From the balcony, Addis Ababa stretched out like a blinking constellation. The city’s noise faded. Silence settled in. Our daughter, normally a restless sleeper, found stillness in the crib provided. We walked with her the next morning, just the three of us, along the high, quiet paths above the city. It was one of those moments you want to fold and keep in your pocket forever.

Still, not everything was seamless. The villas are expansive, beautifully designed, with massive windows to take in the view. But from our balcony, we could see directly into the bathrooms of the villa opposite us. A privacy oversight, and not a minor one. The same issue appeared in our relatives’ villas. For a resort of this caliber, such design flaws should not be brushed aside.

That said, Kuriftu gets many things right. The setting is breathtaking. The stillness is profound. The staff, as always, attentive. And the concept, Africa as a village of nations, is bold. But boldness comes with responsibility.

Too often, Africa is flattened into easy visuals: drums, woven baskets, bright fabrics. While these aesthetics have their place, they are not the story. Africa is also language. Philosophy. History. Literature. Complexity. When committing to honoring the continent room by room, it must go beyond what is ornamental.

Imagine opening a drawer in the Ghanaian villa and finding Kwame Nkrumah’s Africa Must Unite. Or standing in the Senegalese villa, reading the verses of Léopold Senghor. What if the Ethiopian villa included a primer on Ge’ez, its ancient script, and numerals, untouched by colonizers? That is not just decoration. That is education.

Kuriftu is already halfway there. The vision is admirable. But to honor the spirit of Pan-Africanism, the resort must push further: deeper historical resonance, fuller cultural engagement across all villas.

Africa is too often exoticized, presented as distant, colorful, and simple. But here, just above Addis, someone dared to sketch something richer. A place that speaks not only to where we are, but who we are. And maybe, with more care, who we are becoming.

Africa Village does not lump the continent into a single, stylized trope. It insists on the dignity of distinction, each nation rendered with intent. That is rare. And for many of us, personal.

At 180 dollars a night, the experience largely justifies the cost. The villas feel royal. The food, while delicious, came in portions too modest for the price. The Wi-Fi was out during our stay. But these practical glitches were softened by complimentary snacks, juices, and the warmth of the staff.

Still, what stayed with us was not the meal or the décor. It was the conversation. Africa Village got us talking. About history. Identity. Absence. Belonging. It stirred something deeper than rest, it stirred curiosity. And in the end, isn’t that what the best kind of travel does?

PUBLISHED ON May 24,2025 [ VOL 26 , NO 1308]