An original piece that talks about the bonds and the blood that we all share, the highlights our commonalities that are stronger than the insignificant differences that divide us.

by Hiwote Getaneh.  Posted Wednesday, August 4, 2010


Engendered from Atse Menelik, Atse Tewdros, Aba Bora and Ras Jifar, this Habesha came to be.
It’s worth was seen only on the faces, shoulders and backs of warriors that knew the Abyssinia they fought for.
The pride they bought us all and the battles we should simply diffuse by now.
It runs deep through the arteries of royalty
The tourism sites
The churches
The rivers
The valleys.

It cries at the nights our fathers spent in jail
Those grevious days, time has only waned.
Never forgotten
Yet unfairly feared.

Don’t u remember those nights we slept in the hallway of our Kasanchis house?
It was just me, you, Mariam, Gabriel and the Good Book.

Windows and doors don’t always mean opportunities
Then, they were maledictions.
And now, they sway back and forth.

So when mutinies rose and the color of blood overpowered the significance of the green or the yellow, our parents stood…afraid of this Red Terror.
But time never loses focus
It did what it always does
And mended most of our wounds.
So when we came to the States and Bush called for a war on terror, we sat….disinterested.

For from what I know,
Terror is not a suicide bomb.
Nor is it addicted to one religion.
Terror are the stories that the scars on pops’ back will tell u
And that gun they held up to my pregnant mom’s head on her weekly visits.

So it shouldn’t really come as a shock, or even an annoyance when our parents stand as zealots for professions such as medicine, engineering and the law.
It was their key out.
It’s what got us here.

It’s why we feel comfortable enough to complain about their need to direct our future.
But by the work of God and the revolutionaries that were our parents, we are found here today.
And now we stand as the zeniths of their generation.
Propped up,
Never as comfortable as we wanna be.
Always told to study hard so that the nechochu won’t do better than us
Toughen up so that the tekurochu wont take advantage of us.

That is why we walk out the house with hair curlier than ever
Backs straighter than they rulers they used to hit us with
Figures in all shapes and sizes.
Almond eyes
Chocolate lips
Redefining elegance.

We restructure our priorities
For we are the ambassadors of that country
Diplomats of our parents’ fate.

So when you walk by each other,
remember that selam doesn’t just mean hi.
It means I know you,
My parents know yours.

And you and I,
We thoroughly understand each other.

Once a week, we will feature an original poem about our history, culture, and heritage.  If you want to be published, email us with your original piece at info@browncondor.com