Amidst multiple crises, East Africans learn to “share the pain”
“May God be with us all,’’ says Tirunesh (not her real name) with a somber look on her face. The 60-year old resident of Addis Abeba is watching a news report about the recent deadly flash floods that happened in Dire Dawa, Ethiopia. “After locust invasions, andCovid-19, the countries in our region are now dealing with yet another crisis. May God look after all of us,” she prays.
The southern parts of Ethiopia experienced heavy rains on April 24 and 27, with a devastating impact on human life, as well as infrastructure and crops. Tackling food security, while crops are being destroyed by natural disasters, is a heavy burden for farmers. They have put their sweat and blood to provide food for their family and sell what is left to earn some cash to meet other needs.
Tirunesh tells me that she has never been more interested in watching the news as during this period. She never fails to watch the daily reports at lunchtime, with Dr. Lia from the Ministry of Health. “Nowadays, some people are reminded what time of the day it is when she is announcing how many have been tested, or infected, in the past 24 hours,” she laughs.
Like others in her company, Tirunesh is currently working from home as her employer has ordered all staff to stay at home. As an Orthodox Christian, Tirunesh would normally go to church every Sunday, but even this comfort is no longer possible. “I want to go to church to pray for God to bring mercy upon us but I can not do that,” she laments. “But I know it is for our own safety that our religious fathers told us to pray at home.” For a moment, she is lost in her own thoughts.
Like Tirunesh, I also get to thinking about our culture. Ethiopians have deep-rooted religious traditions that also encourage respect for people from other religions. As Easter and Ramadan holidays are close to each other, followers of both observe the fasting period. Both religions also share the practice of sharing what you have with those in need.
As if in perfect sync with my own thoughts, Tirunesh picks up the conversation, wondering about the fate of the many people who would normally receive food, money, and other material needs, from both Christians and Muslims at around this time.
“How will these people survive, and how will farmers be supported?” she asks. I tell her about the recent government initiatives, organised by each sub city. For example, youth volunteers have been collecting staple foods, such as wheat, pasta, and cooking oil, with financial support from private companies. Food banks have also been set up for any person that wanted to share to bring what they have. I also tell her about sensitisation of farmers in the different regions with information on how they can protect themselves while continuing their work. “I had forgotten about that,” she smiles.
“There will always be hard times, but through solidarity the time simply passes,” Tirunesh concludes, reminding me of the old proverb:
“ድር ቢያብር አንበሳ ያስር” ( if all spider webs link up they can hold a lion).
Written by Yared Tesema
This article is part of Covid-19 Food/Future, an initiative under TMG ThinkTank for Sustainability’s SEWOH Lab project (https://www.tmg-thinktank.com/sewoh-lab). It aims at providing a unique and direct insight into the impacts of the Covid-19 pandemic on national and local food systems. Also follow @CovidFoodFuture, our Video Diaries From Nairobi, and @TMG_think on Twitter. Funding for this initiative is provided by BMZ, the German Federal Ministry for Economic Cooperation and Development.
