Peace to my people, peace to Habesha and Portico, and always remember beteseboch, question authority or you will die from their tyranny.

by Teddy Fikre  written:  Tuesday, February 7th, 2012

Alright, time for me to pop my collars yet endegena in Hurricane Habesha and look straight in her kool lined eyes and give her a kiss from Teddisho::  No on the real, I am about to go meto gena all in again,  I am reloading my shot gun, redoubling my efforts and about to give z Habesha community an arsenic laced gursha:: Ahun ahhhhh belew sewoch, here comes the first taste—I am sorry if my words will cause you to get a collective indigestion.  But you will thank me later on when you realize just how DOPE this article is and through my words how I am about to expose some Habesha leboch in the process.

Now, I know your first thought—what is it this time Teddisho, what has you on a tire tsega beef endegena mozaza?  Well let me tell it this way beteseboch, at zis exact moment there is a revolution going on in my stomach and I’ve been popping Tums by the dozens!  I have gone to the bathroom 10 times in the past hour.  Shit, this article took 8 hours to write interrupted by continuous runs while running to the bathroom.  I am all Abebe Bekile with it, I am more faster than a cheetah and a Kenyan combined.  To be honest, my qit is on fire and my heart is an inferno.  WTL (What the Lebdeh), seriously lemot new eko::

So what was my sin that I committed, what is it that I have done that has me running faster than a cheetah and a Kenyan combined?  What have I partaken in that has me partaking in pain and agony?  From whose cup did I drink that has me popping Tums by the dozens?  Was it because I drank copious mimosas at Double Tree with two DOPE ladies?  Was it the buna and buna and buna by the dozens at Starbucks?  Was it the atmit I drank or the fact that I woke up with a condom on my nose with a hangover.  Do tell do tell Teddisho, get to the damn WTL point!

Fine, let me run to the bathroom first…

OK, I’m back, did you miss me while I was gone?  Anyway back to the topic while I’m over here chewing the 20th Tums of the hour.  You see, yesterday I had some Injera.  I had tibs, timatim, all that shit; I had gurshas for days and shared it with DOPE friends.  It was simply amazing, my taste buds had a party and I was overdosing on dulet.  Damn it; do let me tell the rest of the story.  I ate sooooo much Injera that my insides were transforming to Teff.  I was Tefftafa Teddy, a tebtaba Habesha.  I ate so much kitfo my spleen started to morph into mitmita

Now do you see z picture.  Man I ate so much Injera and gursha that today I woke up with a hangover of wot and shinkurt.  Now, I know what you will say next.  What the fuck nigga, why are you complaining when you are the one who did the overdosing on Injera.  Degmo, why are you putting Ethiopian culture once again on blast you aheya!  Yeah I know I know, this is what I do.  I told you, I stay popping my collars in Hurricane Habesha and keep tap dancing in mine riddled fields.   I am all Fred Astaire to when I do eskista, one day that land mine will blow off my leg, but to this point I still have hulet egroch.

Seriously, here is my tire tsega beef. Habesha Injera makers in America are full of shit.  Now I don’t know all the facts, but here is what I have been told.  Most Injera makers use processed shit, they put Coke and beera in the Injera to maximize their profits.  They get away with it because Ethiopian sewoch are gullible and don’t speak up even as they consume shit that is killing them by the dozens and giving young Ethiopians diabetes and cancer.

Seriously, our lack of consumer awareness comes with a lethal price.  By ignoring this shit, by not reading labels and by taking Injera makers at their words, we are literally committing a collective genocide.  Shit, if the Italians only knew of this pernicious fact, they would have been giving away free Injera from DC instead of bombing my forefathers with mustard gas. Wey gud, we are fools for shit; we keep eating gursha after gursha, then pop Tums the next day after by the dozens while running to z bathrooms.  Go on go on Abebe Bekile, soon enough you will return back to Ethiopian restaurants forgetting the 2 days of torture and heartburn.

I know one thing, if this was white folks, shit would be different.  While folk are different, it takes only one indigestion for them to sue the qit off an Injera qitam:: They would call the FDA, the FAA, the FSA or whatever other acronym you want to use and occupy 9th St until they accomplish their mission.  This is why you don’t mess with white folk, you try that shit, sell Injera with beera and Coke and see how long your survive sewoch.  But Habesha, wey gud Habesha, we are fools by the dozens, sell us anything as long as it looks dark and has holes in it.  Thus, one gursha after the other, while we keep eating, we let cheap ass Injera makers point their guns at our collective chinkila::

Anyway, I am done venting. I have to go to z bathroom yet again and run to stall number 2.  It is my hope that these words reach you in peace.  It is my hope that my article does not offend you but instead inspires you to question Habesah leboch.  It is my hope that when you see me on 9th St NW later on, you will not run over me with your Ethiopian cab—especially if you are the cabbie with a Masters from Harvard.  Peace to my people, peace to Habesha and Portico, and always remember beteseboch, question authority or you will die from their tyranny.  Enjoy my gursha, ene bekan, selam and Semata::

“A crust eaten in peace is better than a banquet partaken in anxiety.” ~Aesop

 

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Teddy Fikre

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