Ethiopia's Leaders Keep Forcing Families Back Into Exile

Families who had finally gone home are running again. Think about that. They came back to Tigray after years of war, found roofs that were half-standing and fields that had gone to seed, and started rebuilding. Then the guns returned, and they had to leave everything behind a second time. This is what Ethiopia's leaders have delivered to millions of their own citizens: a life measured in departures.

We have seen this script before. A government signs a deal, the cameras leave, and the people who paid the price are left to wait in a schoolyard or a church compound for food that may not come. The United Nations now says thousands of people are displaced in Debre Birhan in the Amhara region and in Shire, a town in northwestern Tigray. Some of them are returnees who were pushed out again. Others are people who fled West Shewa, East Wollega and West Wollega in Oromia, and who have been living in Debre Birhan for a long time with shortages of food, shelter and basic aid. Ask yourself what kind of state allows its citizens to be displaced across three regions and then treats the crisis as a footnote.

Let us be precise about the scale. The war in Tigray, which broke out in November 2020, drew in federal forces, Tigrayan forces, and Eritrean troops, and it was marked by documented atrocities against civilians, including mass killings, sexual violence and the blockade of aid. Estimates of the death toll range into the hundreds of thousands, and the true figure may never be known because the government has resisted independent investigation at every turn. The Pretoria Cessation of Hostilities Agreement of November 2022, brokered with African Union leadership, was supposed to end the fighting and open the road to recovery. It did stop the main battles. It did not deliver justice, and it did not deliver a secure peace that families could trust enough to stay home.

Then came the Amhara conflict. Since 2023, the Fano militia has fought federal forces across large parts of the region, and civilians have been caught in the crossfire on every side. Reports from human rights groups and the UN have described arbitrary detentions, killings and attacks on civilian areas by multiple parties. Each side blames the other, and each side offers the same answer to the people whose lives are being destroyed: wait. Wait for the next peace talks. Wait for the next ceasefire. Wait for the government to decide your suffering is a political problem worth solving.

Here is the question that should keep every Ethiopian awake tonight. How many times can a people be uprooted before the state that claims to protect them is judged a failure? Ethiopia has been one of Africa's most ambitious development stories, with rapid economic growth over the past two decades and a global reputation as a diplomatic hub that hosts the African Union headquarters in Addis Ababa. A capital that speaks grandly about African unity should not be the place where displaced mothers have to beg for tents. Prestige on the international stage means nothing to a child sleeping on bare ground in Debre Birhan.

The wider region is watching, and so are the outside powers that have long courted Addis Ababa for influence, security cooperation and access to its growing market. Partners who speak loudly about democracy and human rights in Western capitals often speak quietly when it matters most, because stability for their interests is easier to defend than accountability for civilians. We reject that double standard. If the principles Europe and America proclaim are real, they must apply to Ethiopia's displacement crisis with the same urgency they bring to crises they find politically convenient. The same goes for Gulf states, Turkey, China and Russia, all of which have expanded their footprint in the Horn of Africa while the rights of its people went unprotected. Anyone who sells arms, loans or diplomatic cover to a government that is failing its citizens is part of the problem.

Now look at what is happening in Nigeria, because it offers a contrast worth studying. The country's National Assembly reports that 28 state legislatures have approved a constitutional amendment to create state police forces, clearing the threshold of 24 of the 36 states. Clerk Kamoru Ogunlana says the approvals have been verified, and the bill now goes to President Bola Tinubu for assent. Supporters argue that policing that answers to local communities rather than a single distant federal command can respond faster and more accountably to the threats people actually face.

We are not naive about this. State police can become instruments of political persecution if governors treat them as private armies, and Nigeria's history gives plenty of reason for caution. But the principle is sound. Security that is closer to the people, subject to clear legal limits, answerable to elected local authorities and open to independent oversight is a stronger foundation for the rule of law than a centralized force that serves whoever holds power in the capital. The point is not decentralization for its own sake. The point is accountability, and accountability is precisely what Ethiopia's displaced families have been denied.

So what should happen? Ethiopia's federal government must allow unfettered humanitarian access to Debre Birhan, Shire and every other displacement site, and it must fund food, shelter and medical care at a level that reflects the scale of the need rather than the convenience of the budget. Independent monitors, including the UN and the African Union's human rights bodies, must be given full access to investigate abuses by all parties. A credible, transparent process for justice and reparations for victims of the Tigray and Amhara conflicts is not optional. It is the only way to break the cycle of return and flight. Botswana has shown that a country can build durable institutions, protect property and keep its governance clean enough to attract investment and earn public trust. Mauritius has shown that an independent judiciary and a serious commitment to the rule of law can transform a society. Ethiopia has the economic base and the human talent to do the same. What it lacks is the political will to put citizens ahead of power.

The African Union must stop treating Ethiopia's internal wars as sensitive matters that cannot be discussed. Its credibility is on the line. If the AU cannot protect civilians in the country that houses its headquarters, its promises about peace and security across the continent will ring hollow in every capital from Dakar to Nairobi. Regional bodies should also commit to a clear, public timeline for returns that are voluntary, safe and dignified, so that families are not sent back into zones that are still burning.

And you, reader, have a role. Share this story with the people who think displacement happens somewhere else. Demand that your MP, your journalist, your civil society group and your embassy say clearly what they are doing about it. Ask Addis Ababa whether it will open its doors to independent investigators. Ask African leaders whether the principles they recite at summits apply to their own neighbours. Our continent does not need more speeches. It needs governments that keep their people safe in their own homes.

A family that has been forced out twice does not need another communiqué. It needs a roof, a meal, a court that will hear its case and a government that will not make it run a third time. That is the standard we must demand from Ethiopia, from Nigeria, and from every African state that claims to serve its people. Anything less is a betrayal we can no longer afford to excuse.

Based on reporting by ACSS-EMAIL