We are tired of the endless headlines that bring new deaths, the names of the fallen read out like grim poetry, the villages burned, the children orphaned, the farmers who can no longer farm, the refugees who have lost everything. We are tired of the politicians who incite or stay silent while the country is torn apart, and of the narratives that force us to choose sides instead of demanding justice, truth, and peace for all.
We are tired, but we are also angry. We are angry not at individual soldiers or fighters, but at the political and military leaders whose choices have allowed war after war to erupt and now, again, at the threat of renewed conflict between the Tigray People’s Liberation Front (TPLF) and the Federal Government.
Enough is enough. The current tension must de‑escalate, immediately. Any further slide into open war is not only a moral crime, but a political and economic disaster for a country that cannot afford another round of bloodshed.
The people of Ethiopia have nothing more to gain from war. We have everything to lose.
The Ethiopian human toll of recent years is staggering. Hundreds of thousands dead, millions displaced, countless women and children exposed to violence, trauma, and malnutrition. The scars run deep, not just in the physical wounds, but in the broken trust between communities, the fear in the eyes of children, and the silence of elders who have seen too many cycles of hope and betrayal.
And the economic cost? It is no less devastating. The war in the North alone destroyed hospitals, schools, roads, dams, and industries. It reversed years of development, pushed millions deeper into poverty, and turned productive land into zones of ruin. Now, with the country already struggling with inflation, debt, and unemployment, another war would be catastrophic.
Yet, despite all this, we see the same old patterns repeating. Political disputes become framed in existential terms. Each side accuses the other of betrayal and illegitimacy. Rhetoric becomes more aggressive. Troops are mobilized. The drums of war beat again. And once again, it is the ordinary peasant, the trader, the teacher, the student, who will bear the heaviest burden.
The people are watching. We are not blind. We see the posturing and the brinkmanship. We see the blame games, the nationalist slogans, and the silencing of voices that call for restraint. And we are clear: Ethiopia cannot survive another war.
There are many who still believe that war can bring decisive victory — that military force can crush opposition, restore order, and stabilize the state. This is a dangerous illusion.
History has shown, over and over, that war in Ethiopia does not end problems; it deepens them. It does not build national unity; it fractures it further. It does not deliver lasting peace; it plants the seeds of the next conflict.
Even if one side achieves a military “victory,” that cannot be the foundation of a stable, prosperous Ethiopia. Victory through war creates resentment, not reconciliation. It breeds a culture of distrust and revenge, not one of justice and shared citizenship.
Ethiopia is not just a state; it is a nation of many nations, of many languages, religions, and histories. None can be forced into submission without destroying the very fabric of the country. The idea that one group can dominate the rest through force, or that another group can secede by force, is a fantasy that has already brought immense suffering.
War is not justice. War is not development. War is not strength. War is, ultimately, a failure — a failure of political imagination, a failure of leadership, and a failure of humanity.
The current tension between the TPLF and the Federal Government must not be allowed to erupt into open conflict. The signs are clear that the situation is volatile, and every day of escalation brings the country closer to a new round of violence.
De‑escalation is not weakness. It is wisdom. It is the only responsible choice for leaders who claim to serve the Ethiopian people.
First, both sides must stop the aggressive rhetoric and the military posturing. Words matter. When leaders speak as if war is inevitable, they make it more likely. They must instead choose language that creates space for dialogue, not justification for violence.
Second, the federal government, as the authority with the greatest responsibility for national security, must take the initiative to de‑escalate. This means halting any military movements that could be seen as preparing for war, reducing troop concentrations, and making clear, public commitments to a peaceful resolution.
At the same time, the TPLF leadership must also show restraint. The right to political grievance is real, but resorting to armed confrontation is not acceptable in a country that is still recovering from so much bloodshed. All parties must recognize that political differences must be settled through constitutional and democratic means, not through bullets.
Third, and most importantly, Ethiopia needs a credible, inclusive process of dialogue that addresses the root causes of conflict. This is not just about Tigray; it is about Ethiopia as a whole. Core issues — questions of power, identity, justice, land, the constitution, and the future of the federation — must be discussed in a forum that brings in all major political and regional actors, civil society, and independent mediators.
One‑sided decisions and closed‑door negotiations are not enough. The people of Ethiopia are not pawns in a power struggle between elites. They must be at the centre of any process that will determine the country’s future.
The Ethiopian people have already paid too high a price. We have sacrificed children, livelihoods, and years of progress. We have poured our tears into the soil, praying for peace. We have endured the silence of the oppressed and the arrogance of the powerful.
Now, we say clearly: we will not accept another war. We will not accept another cycle of destruction in the name of politics, ideology, or so‑called “regional security.”
The youth of Ethiopia, especially, must be heard. They did not ask for this war. They did not ask to grow up in a country where their dreams are limited by borders, checkpoints, and insecurity. They are demanding education, jobs, justice, and a peaceful homeland. They deserve that, not another generation of loss.
The clergy, elders, women, traders, and civil society leaders who have repeatedly called for peace have shown the true Ethiopian tradition. Peace is not surrender; it is courage. Peace is not passive; it is the active pursuit of reconciliation, justice, and a shared future.
To the leaders in Addis Ababa and Mekelle: the people are watching. History is watching. The world is watching.
You have a choice: to continue down the path of confrontation, risk another war, and leave your names tied to more suffering and ruin — or to choose the harder, braver path of peace, dialogue, and national healing.
The people of Ethiopia are tired of war. We are not ready for peace, we are ready for survival, for dignity, for a future where our children can grow up in a country at peace.
War is never the answer. Ethiopia has already proved that beyond any doubt. The only way forward is through de‑escalation, dialogue, and a genuine commitment to peace.
Enough. No more war.
