Thank you for your kind words, and I truly feel humbled when you refered to me as “the true son of Ethiopia.” In these trying moments of our country, I work and live as an ordinary journalist trying to serve in my modest capacity the news and information needs of our people.
About Tesfaye Gebreab’s Yegazetegnaw Mastawesha?
I’d be a liar if I didn’t tell you how I enjoyed it.
I know Tesfaye was a gifted writer, but I never knew he would rise to the degree of comparing him with the great writers of our country, like Sibhat Gebre-Egziabher and of course Baalu Girma. The late Baalu used to revere Sebhat so much his book, Deraseew, was all about the life history of Sebhat.
Tesfaye was lucky to have Sebhat as his editor for his Efoita magazine, as I was lucky that Sebhat was also my editor at The Ethiopian Herald. Sebhat is gifted in both English and Amharic writing. He is infact admired as the father of short-story writing. I remember in his book, Amist-sidist-sebat, there is one short, memorable story whose total length is half a page.
While reading Yegazetegnaw Mastawesha, I felt I was reading the works of Sebhat. He has this tremendous ability to describe situations in very short and yet powerful words and sentences.
Impressive among the chapters, for instance, is Ye-Qundedo Feresoch.
The contrast between the jaded, abused, cart-pulling skeletal horses of the town and those vibrant, wildly free and rebellious horses inhabiting the towering heights of the Qundedo mountain plateau is a piece of literary art. The political connotation – the highlight between a generally free versus a not-free people – would have been excellent had Tesfaye left it there, without injecting a vemon of ethnicity. But again, the description was phenomenal, almost like watching a video clip. Congratulations, Tesfaye!
So far I haven’t responded to Tesfaye’s accusations. As a matter of principle, I don’t use a pen name; therefore, trust me friends that I haven’t said a word about the book. A few guys wrongly thought the article written by Ethiopia Yingalish was mine.
When the writer’s mood sets in, I may comment on Tesfaye’s memoir. This is only to clarify things, to add my share to the literary dialogue, and not to accuse Tesfaye of doing this or that. That is not my concern. I’m a journalist interested in sharing information, and not trying to settle an old score.
But for the sake of honoring the few friends I see here, like my dear friends Fekade Shewakena, Ephrem Madebo and of course Obang Metho, I’d like to clear a few things that made me really sad:
First, in his book, Tesfaye labelled me a “Woyane informant” who jumped onto the TPLF bandwagon when he was chief of the Press Department.
When the brutal 17 years of the Derg regime came to an end, I never thought a regime worse than the Derg would come. Never. The end of the Derg for me was the beginning of a new era of peace, democracy, and justice. As a young man, I was overjoyed, and expressed my support for the “new government in public” at a meeting held on the premises of Berhanena Selam Printing Press (which used to house offices of The Herald and Addis Zemen).
There is no secret about it.
After TPLF took over power, Ethiopian Press Department manager was Mezmoor Fente, member of the Central Committee of Tamrat Layne’s Party. Then after a while, Mezmoor was transfered to ENA, and Tesfaye Gebreab came in as replacement. Since those Esepa members were expelled, Tesfaye, the new manager, was counting on us the young employees of the press for any information toward getting the job done.
Since I clearly expressed my support for the “new government,” I was one of those individuals Tesfaye would ask for information on who is better for the Herald (may be a staff of eight). This is about who is better qualified for being a news editor, sports editor, culture editor etc. I genuinely gave my advice since I’ve lived and worked with the Herald for seven years.
When I was sent to Lake Tana along with a high-ranking delegation led by then Prime Minister Tamrat Layne, I wrote what one farmer said, among other things, about Tamrat Layne: “The prime minister is young, tall and handsome.”
I didn’t do this to be favored and get promotion. Never; it is not my nature. In fact, I’m very defiant to bosses and governments.
Tesfaye pulled this line out of context and projected me as if I were an adir bai gazetegna (opportunist reporter). Even if the words were mine, it was no big deal to describe the prime minister in nice words. After all, the medium was English. It may sound odd in Amharic but it was pretty fine in English.
In the meantime, what was in my mind at that time was the “era of writing with fear, the era of self-censorship” was over, and “I’m a free man who can write without the fear of government retribution.” I was wrong.
The problem with EPRDF started early on as the Editor in Chief of the time, Kiflom Adgoi, called me in to his office, and handed me the phone: The call was from the palace.
It was in 1992, and Derartu Tulu had won a gold medal at the Barcelona Olympics. I headlined the story something to the tune of: Derartu crowned as queen of women’s Olympic marathon (Corrected: Derartu won a gold medal not for marathon but 10,000m).
Since Derartu was the first African woman to win an Olympic gold medal for the event (Abebe Bikila was the first African to win an Olympic gold medal for marathon at the 1960 Rome Olympics), it was a fitting headline for the news. But a top EPRDF official scolded me like a kid saying,
“Do you know Derartu is the daughter of a poor peasant?”
Yes, I do.
Why do you then refer to her as a “queen”? Are you an admirer of the feudal monarchy?
No, sir.
Is it because you don’t want to give credit to EPRDF as a guardian of peasants?
No.
Then why did you portray her as if she was member of the royal family of Haile-Selassie?
It is an English expression that doesn’t have any connection with Derartu’s breeding.
Are you trying to teach me English? (The tone this time was threatening).
(And honest to God), I shot back, “Are you threatening me for what I wrote?”
The call ended there (For me, the warning over the phone was an early signal that EPRDF was never honest when it told the Ethiopian public that it has abolished censorship).
Shortly, I didn’t stay long with the Press; I was sent to ENA, where Amare Aregawi was the manager.
If I were an adir bai gazetegna, how is that I would ran into conflicts with Tesfaye, then Amare, and others as Tesfaye alleged in his book? Simply, I was uncontrollable, untamable. All what they wanted out of me was a yes-man for the new establishment, and they never found it in me.
Second,
Tesfaye said the cause of his conflict with me was when a certain Mulugetta Ashenafi wrote a story on Ethiomedia alleging that Tesfaye had made away with half a million Birr when he fled the country about eight years ago.
The normal practice of a journalist is to send a rebuttal, or even ask the editor to post a correction, or remove the material altogether. Tesfaye didn’t do this. He rather waited for several years until he wrote a book that included a few pages he thought would destroy my reputation.
In fact, when Tesfaye called one close friend of mine very recently and asked him if he had read his book, my friend rather asked Tesfaye: “How come you were more bitter about Abraha than Bereket Simon, the man who you said forced you to flee Ethiopia?”
Well, Tesfaye knows what he answered.
Third, when Tesfaye’s interview appeared on EMF, he accused me of disseminating copies of his book to sabotage the sale. This is truly sad. For any journalist worthy of the profession, this is not only ethically shameful but also criminal.
I read about the existence of the book like everyone else – when Elias Kifle posted a few excerpted pages of the memoir on Ethiopian Review.
Later in the interview with EMF, Tesfaye added another accusation and said: “Abraha somewhat knew I was writing a book, and he knew what I was writing about him. He asked me to pull out the negative pages about him, which I ignored, and published the book anyway. As a revenge, Abraha disseminated copies of the book freely over the Internet to sabotage sales.” Oh, boy!
Can Tesfaye share the email message that he said he received from me? I had no idea he was writing a book, and how is that possible for me to approach him for any help? Tesfaye should answer this.
Do I’ve any more to say about the book? Oh, yes; at least on two serious issues: the political murders of Hayelom Araya and Kinfe Gebremedhin.
Given that Tesfaye had access to top EPRDF offices, I don’t think Tesfaye has been honest, and telling the truth about the killings which for many Ethiopians remain as politically-motivated murders.
Tesfaye dismissed Hayelom’s assassination as the work of a “silly Eritrean” who had smoked hashish. Ouch! That was a slap in the face, Tesfaye.
But all said, again, thank you for a wonderful reading.
—- Abraha Belai can be reached at [email protected].
