The Final Exam No One Prepared For

The Final Exam No One Prepared For

May 2 , 2026. By Kidist Yidnekachew ( Kidist Yidnekachew is interested in art, human nature and behaviour. She has studied psychology, journalism and communications and can be reached at (kaymina21@gmail.com) )

The first time I heard about the “Mesob” one-stop service initiative, relief came quickly. It sounded like a promise to citizens worn down by bureaucracy, a signal that the long chase for a single signature across multiple offices might finally ease. The name itself carries weight. In Ethiopian culture, a Mesob gathers people and things in one place. Applied to public service, it suggests coherence rather than chaos.

My own encounters with government offices have been few, but memorable for the wrong reasons. The culture of "come back tomorrow" lingers. Simple requests stretch into drawn-out exchanges, where information is scarce and direction unclear. The real strain is not just the wait. It is the constant uncertainty, the need to ask repeatedly where to go next.

The Mesob idea feels especially urgent at the Addis Abeba University.

Some processes have improved over time, yet the clearance procedure remains stubbornly unchanged. It is the final step before graduation, though it feels less like a conclusion and more like an obstacle course. After years of study, the last task should mark closure. Instead, it tests endurance.

Clearance requires proof that nothing is owed to the university, from books to bedding, before a degree is released. It begins with a slip of paper at the department office. At the registrar, that slip suddenly needs multiple copies. No one seems to agree on how many. What follows resembles a scavenger hunt. Offices are scattered, instructions inconsistent, and guidance largely informal.

Students move from building to building, often relying on strangers for direction. One office sends them elsewhere. Another reveals that a signature was never needed in the first place. The system feels less like a structure and more like a maze. Clarity is missing where it matters most.

The breaking point came at the final stage, when I was preparing to collect my temporary graduation certificate. The requirement was simple on paper: return the student ID to complete clearance.

My ID had been taken by a campus guard a year earlier. It had expired, and at the time I was using it while processing my degree, lacking other identification. When it was confiscated, I assumed it was gone for good.

At the registrar, the response was procedural and firm. Without the card in hand, I was told to report it as lost at a police station, secure documentation, return to the university, request a replacement, then submit that new card immediately to complete the process.

The logic was precise, yet detached from reality. The university holds student records, photographs, and academic history. Still, a missing piece of plastic halted everything. The process was not protective. It was rigid.

Standing in the hallway, the weight of it all surfaced. It was not only about the card. It was about the hours lost, the repeated trips, and the absence of flexibility. Systems built by people should allow for judgment. Here, procedure seemed to override sense.

In that moment, help came from an unexpected place. A passerby asked what was wrong and listened. His suggestion was simple: check with the gate guards. They often keep confiscated IDs.

At the gate, the answer was waiting. The card had been sitting in a drawer for a year. A small object, holding up an entire process.

Without that advice, the detour through a police station would have taken days. The experience revealed how easily time can be lost within a system that lacks coordination.

For graduate students, the strain runs deeper. Many balance work and study, using limited leave to complete administrative tasks. Time matters. Efficiency is not a luxury.

The country is moving toward a broader digital transformation. That ambition must reach institutions like Addis Abeba University. If the systems that serve students remain manual and fragmented, progress elsewhere will feel uneven.

A different approach is possible. Clearance could exist within a shared system, where departments, libraries, and registrars update records in real time. Completion would trigger confirmation, not another round of paperwork. No duplicate slips, no unnecessary detours, no uncertainty.

As I wait to collect my degree, the return to campus feels heavy. For many, university memories are defined by growth and connection. Mine carry a different edge, shaped by process rather than experience.

The idea behind Mesob remains powerful. Bringing services together, simplifying steps, and respecting time are not distant goals. They are practical choices. Within institutions that shape the country’s future, those choices matter most.

PUBLISHED ON May 02,2026 [ VOL 27 , NO 1357]