The Old Brew Finds a New Room

Aug 14 , 2026. By Blen Hailu ( Blen Hailu (blenmahi12@gmail.com) studied marketing, management and law. She works in communications and digital content creation, with a focus on human rights, equity and youth engagement.  )

At a Tella house in the Chichinya neighbourhood, the “kerar” and 34 brewers meet a city rediscovering tella, one cup, one song, and one memory at a time writes Blen Hailu (blenmahi12@gmail.com), who studied marketing, management and law. She works in communications and digital content creation, focusing on human rights, equity, and youth engagement.

On a Saturday evening in a Chichinya neighbourhood, off Mickey Leland St., Sello Tella Bet comes alive to the melody of the “kerar”, its notes followed by catchy lyrics woven into stories.

Habtamu Tumssa plucked the strings. Those seated around the round tables turn to face him, letting music and conversation become part of the evening itself. The old calling of “Azmari” finds a new room, a tella-house where a drink associated with homes and gatherings becomes part of a cultural experience.

Sello's story begins with its founder, Yohannes Aychew, who grew up around Genet Hotel and Mekoninoch Sefer. For him, tella was something he met at home during holidays, and a way of spending time with friends. In time, it became an affection.

Whenever he heard that someone was headed to a gathering where tella would be served, he would ask them to bring some back. Out of that small habit grew a larger idea, a commercial place given over entirely to tella.

At first, people called him “crazy” when he shared the idea with them.

“But I was determined to do it," he said.

He began talking to the wife of a friend who used to give him tella whenever she brewed. What started as gratitude turned into a business. Today the business employs 34 women, and they are much of what Sello means.

“Tella is known through our mothers,” Yohannes said. “I wanted to create something where they can benefit from using their years of transferred knowledge.”

Tella is a multi-step natural fermentation that runs about nine to 10 days, drawing on malted barley, unmalted grains, and “gesho” as the bittering agent. The old method leans on smoked clay pots and patient fermentation.

The brewing happens at another location, in the hands of women who carry out the traditional process. Once ready, the tella travels to Sello, where it is presented and served differently, turning the household drink into part of the establishment's distinctive dining and cultural experience, something closer to theatre.

There, the tella arrives at the table with a pot filled with eucalyptus leaves. Servers pour it from the jar into the pot before serving it in the traditional beaker or cup carved from animal horn, wood or metal.

Sello pours a range of tella varieties, each with a name and a set of ingredients that give the brew its identity. “Mebreq,” from wheat, is the strong one, served with a word of caution to drink responsibly. “Mestefaqir,” made from finger millet, “Fundisha,” from corn, is a variation known across the country, while “Andenet”, a mixed-cereal brew, has long been a holiday staple in homes.

Others trade in mood as much as strength. “Somsoma,” a barley tella, is described as the one that gives drinkers time to catch their breath. “Genet,” a smooth and rare teff tella, is meant to warm the drinker. “Gerager” is lighter, made to quench a thirst, and “Welela,” infused with honey, carries a faint sweetness without much force.

There is also “Le’betie”, a 750ml bottle. Mebreq, Mestefaqir, Fundisha and Andenet come in wax-sealed bottles for the road, to be opened later at home with friends and loved ones.

Tella comes by the cup, by the litre, or in the larger masero serving, with bottled and takeaway options besides. The range lets a visitor treat tella as a quick drink or as something to share across a long evening.

Prices run with the variety and the pour, from 95 Br to 795 Br.

When Sello opened in 2022, the doubters around Yohannes held their ground. Yet the place slowly became one of the addresses people name when they want tella in Addis Abeba. Over the past two years or so, “kerar” nights have deepened that pull, folding live music and storytelling into a room already steeped in tradition.

The “kerar,” a bowl-shaped lyre of five or six strings, is played by plucking or strumming. It has long sat at the centre of folk music, old and new, and is bound up with the “azmaris”, who also play the masenqo. Acoustic versions carry a skin-covered bowl. Modern electric ones can be amplified.

The azmari, though, is more than a musician. Traditionally, they are poet-musicians and social critics who perform with the masenqo, a one-stringed fiddle, or the kerar. They have often been likened to the medieval European bard or the West African griot. Azmaris entertained royal courts, shaped public discourse, raised the morale of troops in battle and preserved the oral history of the Ethiopian highlands.

For the regulars, the Saturdays have become the draw. Several speak of the combination of tella, music and the relaxed atmosphere. Some have been coming since the kerar nights were held every Tuesday. Over time, the weekly gathering has settled into a familiar part of their routine.

Even the name holds a memory.

"Sello is slang we used to call tella bets,” Yohannes said of the choice. “I wanted to create a nostalgic feeling.”

That nostalgia has grown into events. In 2025, Sello held two tella fests, bringing together people who share a love for tella, the music and the social atmosphere surrounding the drink. The gatherings offered another way to circle tella as more than a beverage. Sello hopes to carry the festival forward as part of its push to promote the culture around it.

Sello's rise mirrors a wider turn across Addis Abeba. In recent years, the rise of tella houses has become visible across the city. A drink once poured mostly in old neighbourhood settings now appears in restaurants and commercial spaces, carried beyond the homes and local gatherings where most people first met it.

The shift reaches even into shopping malls. At Megenagna City Square Mall, Taem Tella & Tej take the third floor and remake it as a traditional-style restaurant. Woven wooden elements, the aroma of the drinks and the atmosphere built around them lend the floor a character all its own.

It is a striking transformation, where a modern commercial setting is made over into a place designed to summon the experience of traditional drinking culture.

For Sello, the revival is not simply a matter of selling tella. It is about making a place where a familiar drink can carry stories, music, memory and knowledge into a new season of city life. The women who brew it, the musicians who play beside it and the guests who gather around it all become part of the telling.

On Saturday evenings, as Habtamu's kerar fills the room and the conversations settle over the tables, the night feels less like an outing than a meeting point between past and present.

Sello displays that tella is no longer bound to the places where it has long been made and shared. It is becoming a visible thread in the city's shifting food, drink and cultural life. In rooms like this one, the revival is served not only in a cup, but with music, stories, memory and a fresh sense of community.

PUBLISHED ON Aug 14,2026 [ VOL 27 , NO 1372]