Allowing for the nuances of submitting an asylum application with political implications, one cannot help but sympathize with the opposition politicians who recently defected in Norway. A prominent reason for their defection was the pervasive corruption within the government, which can eliminate anyone with even the slightest genuine intention of opposing it. Many have fallen victim to this corruption, and a significant number of families have been pushed to the brink as a result.
Given the potential for misuse, I firmly believe that the legislation adopted on January 9, 2025, to confiscate assets that are disproportionate to a person’s known source of income was long overdue.
This is not difficult to understand. Without delving into extensive comparative studies, we can justify this legislation based on the actual circumstances in our country. Moreover, this law specifically targets the wealthy—those truly at the center of corruption.
When Ato Birhan Tsigab’s revealing book titled “EPRDF’s Descent to the Abyss” was published in 2019, it redefined the understanding of corruption within a dominant party system. I recall the host of the popular talk show “Benegerachin Lay” exclaiming in disbelief during an interview with Birhan, “Are you saying there has never been a government in the true sense of the term these past three decades?” The guest’s response was affirmative.
Let’s be clear: when it comes to corruption, EPRDF members are viewed as irredeemable, and they are presumed guilty until proven innocent.The first proclamation in 2001, which established special procedures and rules of evidence for investigating and prosecuting corruption crimes, emerged from these existing conditions. Unfortunately, they judge others by their own standards. Corrupt officials often have EPRDF connections; they are wealthy and capable of offering generous kickbacks. They are supported by teams of top-notch lawyers and financial experts with insider knowledge, making it difficult to apprehend the true culprits. On the contrary, these individuals are skilled at turning the tables on anyone who threatens them, often leading to their ‘liquidation or silencing.’ In the worst cases, the special procedures and rules of evidence have been manipulated for political ends, prompting Parliament to revise the law in 2005 and 2015.
In this sense, the latest legislation represents a third-generation approach in the fight against corruption, and it is crucial for Ethiopians to support its successful implementation. The first two attempts were dismal failures, as evidenced by the diminished respect the Commission has received over the years, even from the government. The outcome of this legislation could be promising if the Commission is willing to publish the registered assets of public officials concurrently.
One thing that never ceases to amaze me is the audacity of top EPRDF officials (the MVPs of the corruption league) in defending their ill-gotten wealth. Around 2018, they appeared on television programs one after another, repeating a scripted line: “Where is the evidence?”
“One I have long sold, another is in my son’s name, another is registered in my wife’s name, the one you keep mentioning is rented, and the truth is, I live in the single house I actually own—where is the evidence of my being corrupt?” Wouldn’t this sound extremely hyperbolic, even for a comedy script? It’s hard to believe it had been written by someone like Ato Birhan Tsigab.
The monthly tuition fee for his children attending an expensive school catering to the international community exceeded his total gross quarterly salary, prompting inquiries about this magical home economics. Without the slightest qualms and with tears glistening in his kind eyes, he responded, “I don’t think I have done much good for my community, but the outpouring of love and gratitude expressed in covering such small expenses is truly beyond words.”
Ato Birhan Tsigab writes that at the EPRDF Council, it had become standard practice to denounce corruption and symbolically fight it with the combined efforts of senior cadres in attendance. However, no one was expected to take it seriously; otherwise, they risked being kicked out of the Fellowship in a most unceremonious manner. Scouts would be dispatched to various offices to “photocopy” compromising documents. In most cases, a naïve inductee, believing in his innocence, would rarely try to hide his mistakes. Thus, it goes without saying that “evidence” would be abundant to indict him.
Instead of systematically “tidying up documents,” he would address them in official correspondence to his colleagues and superiors. Once such documents were secured, the pros would summon an emergency meeting, waving the papers in his face: “Now this is evidence! Since you have acknowledged the mistakes unsolicited, we don’t need corroboration!” Before long, police and prosecutors would descend upon him like a hawk chasing a defenseless rabbit, with their sharp claws poised.
Moreover, as the Commission would be eager for cases, it would be all too happy to drag the unfortunate fellow to prison, often with the express or implicit approval of the Front. The fact that no financial loss was incurred wouldn’t serve as a defense, nor would the absence of personal benefit provide a ground for escaping the wrath of the powerful—at least not until four or five years later.
Chances are, no one would hear from him for years while he rots away in prison. In some cases, his affluent comrades might secretly send word to the landlord leasing a small apartment to his family, advising against bothering the poor wife and unfortunate children for rent. If I am not mistaken, this group of “losers” (as they are called among the corrupt rich and glamorous) founded a civil society organization after being released—broken and wasted.It is in this context that the profound fear expressed by defected members of opposition parties becomes credible.
According to Ato Birhan, Ato Hailemariam once became unusually irritated during a Council meeting due to the excessive duration of the ‘standard denunciation of corruption.’ He snapped, saying, “We are all here together, aren’t we? We all know that most heads of the corruption networks are in this hall. Last time we tried to investigate, we all hid behind our respective nationalities, didn’t we?” Sadly, little seems to have changed since that moment.
With such enabling bad governance allowing corruption to flourish at the highest levels, it is difficult to find any substantial wealth in the country that isn’t linked to a corrupt network. A few individuals who tried to operate legitimately have long since succumbed to overwhelming debts owed to the IRM. This corrupt culture has permeated the entire system of public and corporate governance. According to some reports, young job seekers often feel they cannot compete for vacant positions without “oiling dry palms.” Thanks to this culture fostered by the EPRDF, a new term has entered the Amharic lexicon: ፍርቅ ማስያዝ, which expresses the need to engage in corrupt practices to conduct business or obtain services in the country. Corruption is threatening every aspect of social life, and unless something as drastic as the latest legislation is implemented, society is likely to take the law into its own hands in pursuit of equitable wealth redistribution.
Therefore, in all fairness, targeting the actual ‘incommensurate wealth’ is essential in the fight against corruption, provided there is due care taken to prevent it from being hijacked as it has in the past.
God bless.
You can reach the writer via estefanoussamuel@yahoo.com
