Year 12: The year of no small things

No longer dying in hundreds.
No longer killing in hundreds.
No longer small clashes between neighbouring tribes.

Instead..
Millions. Tribalism. Cessation.

I keep being asked, by those who can’t point out my country on the map: “Which ethnic group are you from?”, “How bad is it over there?”, “You must feel lucky for having escaped with your life, huh?”.

And it pisses me off. It makes me angry that white people are differentiating between Amhara, Oromo and Tigre Ethiopians. It pisses me off that the word “genocide” is being thrown about lightly. It really grieves me that Ethiopians are bad-mouthing the motherland on the internet and to foreigners, thereby tearing a “ሰበዝ” from the ድክሞ ሳር ቤት we call “Emmama Ethiopia”; that they are sowing seeds of contention through flags/protests/messages/tweets for the sake of not letting posts go uncommented upon. That Facebook is no longer a gathering place for fucking idiots/dumb fucks/ከንቱ…አራሙቻ…ጭቃ humans, but deadly ones.

ስምንተኛው ሺህ?

አርጎት ነው??

May those who love us, love us;
And for those who don’t love us,
May God turn their hearts;
And if He doesn’t turn their hearts,
May He turn their [fingers and] ankles,
So we will know them by their limping.

🇪🇹🇪🇹🇪🇹🇪🇹🇪🇹🇪🇹🇪🇹🇪🇹🇪🇹🇪🇹🇪🇹🇪🇹🇪🇹🇪🇹🇪🇹🇪🇹🇪🇹🇪🇹🇪🇹🇪🇹🇪🇹🇪🇹🇪🇹🇪🇹🇪🇹

🇪🇹🇪🇹🇪🇹🇪🇹🇪🇹 ኢትዮጵያ ለዘላለም ትኑር 🇪🇹🇪🇹🇪🇹🇪🇹🇪🇹

🇪🇹🇪🇹🇪🇹🇪🇹🇪🇹🇪🇹🇪🇹🇪🇹🇪🇹🇪🇹🇪🇹🇪🇹🇪🇹🇪🇹🇪🇹🇪🇹🇪🇹🇪🇹🇪🇹🇪🇹🇪🇹🇪🇹🇪🇹🇪🇹🇪🇹