Over the past few years, houses and institutions have been demolished en masse in Addis Ababa in the name of various development projects.
Tens of thousands of homes have been demolished, especially for the current government focus on forest projects, corridor development, and redevelopment; existing residential areas have been demolished and replaced with other developments or are in the process of being demolished.
Meanwhile, just as the city’s residents whose homes were demolished have been given compensation and replacements, there are also many who speak of being left lying on the ground without a replacement. Among these Addis Ababa residents are hundreds of residents of Selam Amba neighborhood, in Bole Sub-city Woreda 13. The “undocumented” homeowners say they have lived in the area for three decades.
They provide evidence that they have raised families and led stable lives during these years, and that they have continued to pay land taxes and other resident obligations and support development projects. More than 450 residents, who say the government has promised to provide them with proof of ownership for the houses, commonly known as moon houses, told the BBC that they were demolished in “redevelopment,” including homes located 200 to 300 meters from the local corridor development.
They pointed out that the residents were also managing their families by renting out houses, and they also stated that their land and other social services had been disrupted. Residents, who describe the homeless man’s actions as “cruel,” say they are “unable to be ignored,” citing the disruption of their lives and the fact that they were thrown out onto the street.
Two of these residents share their stories in their own words. They also demand justice.
“I think I have a country . . .” Worknesh Alemu*
I am a mother of three children.
I am one of the Ethiopians who returned to the Arab world for a better life. I have been in the Arab world for 11 years. I decided that I had enough and went back to my country. Since I had money, I wanted to buy a house with a small entrance.
In 2015, I spent all my savings on a house in Gerji Selam Amba neighborhood in Addis Ababa, hoping to provide a place for my children to grow up. The house has three additional rooms or services. I knew it didn’t have a map when I bought it. But they said “it will be approved” and I believed them. Why didn’t I believe them when they were promised by the government?
I found a source of income by renting out the service and started raising my children. I earn nine thousand birr a month by renting out a house. In addition, I raise my five and seven-year-old children with the income I earn from cleaning.
While I was living my life this way, a situation happened that turned my life upside down this year. I learned in October 2017 that my house, the result of my hard work in the Arab world, would be demolished. They came at 10 am on Saturday; they told us that a demolition task force would arrive on Monday.
We were told, “Take your belongings tomorrow.” Some people, including me, said, “We won’t leave.” Where should we go? We were told, “The dozer is coming; it’s going to be demolished.” We were told to get up. We were told to move as if it were a small thing, like a house. My family came and took my belongings, paid for the freight, and took them away. When this happened, I was not with myself.
The house I bought after spending 11 years in an Arab country collapsed. I was not with myself. I did not recognize myself. I had high blood pressure when I was pregnant. I have not been well since the day I heard the news that it would collapse.
My illness has worsened. I have reached a point of despair because my situation is becoming increasingly hopeless. I no longer live for myself, but for my children.
I thought about going back to the Arab country. But who would I leave the children with? I am not as strong as I used to be. I am getting older. It is very disappointing. I came back thinking that I have a country and fell into a state of despair.
When a person enters a country, he enters with hope. I have been in the Arab world for 11 years; I have gone through so many ups and downs. Life in the Arab world is lived in a vacuum. What I found when I came here is no different. What am I missing?
I walked from the kebele to the mayor’s office hoping they would listen to my case. Who listened to me? I found the executive of the sub-district and asked them, “Where should I go?” We pleaded, “We are women; we have children. The children will be hungry; the hyena will take us.” They said, “We do not encourage illegality. . . .” and sent us away. I was very sad.
There is not a day that I have not walked. We have also walked with people whose houses have been destroyed, like me. We have fallen in the field with a child. What could be worse than this? We told them. “Don’t walk ten times; don’t do anything to us.” They say.
Now I have a fourth story. My friends and relatives have contributed and paid six months’ rent. There is also a condominium built for farmers’ children; they have rented me a studio there, saying it will be cheaper.
My salary is two thousand 79 birr. I am also far from my workplace. I travel a long distance to get to work. I save a little on transportation. If I work without a break, including weekends and holidays, I can earn more money.
There are times when I lock my children at home and go to work. Even so, it’s hard. I can’t even give them something to eat. Where did I get it?
I get angry at little things. I get angry at people over little things. It’s dark around me. . . But where does it go? I can’t sleep.
‘I was left empty during my time of exile’ Ato Zelalem* (85-year-old wealthy man)
There is nothing I have not seen in my life. But this time is worse. At this age, I need a house, I need food, I need clothes. . . But not all of them.
As we hear in other countries, the government helps retirees and the elderly. But I have demolished the house I built and am sitting empty-handed. I built a five-room house 22 years ago by working as a day laborer and security guard. I raised my children in this house.
I was earning six thousand birr by renting out a house. Since 2011, this has been my main source of income.
I have contributed to all the contributions requested by the government in my area. I have paid money for the Nile Dam. I have contributed to the purchase of ambulances. I have trained and served as a peacekeeping force.
When the condominium registration started, they told us to choose one of the houses with a moon, so we registered. I left the condominium thinking that I would live in the house I built until the end of my life.
They gathered with three districts and said, “Sign that we are illegal immigrants.” We said no. Even if we gathered again, we would not agree. The people were angry. Why would they demolish us? We are not against the development. If it is demolished, they said, “We will be given a replacement for our entrance fee,” and they left us.
One day they came and said, “It will be demolished; the tenant must move out.” My tenants said, “We will move out only if you move out; we will not leave you behind.” They forcibly evicted them. They also came and told me to demolish it on the third day. On November 30, I removed the metal and the door and moved out.
We had a big party that had 158 members; everyone dispersed. A tent was sold; a chair was sold; an iron pot was sold. We divided the money from the sale. I received five thousand, 500 birr. I took her and the tin of silver and left.
The house where I had lived for a third of my life was left as nothing but a wall. I threw away the wood, packed up my things, and left my house, looking back.
The rent to live in the neighborhood I know is seven thousand and eight thousand birr. It’s expensive for me. I rented a house for four thousand birr in an area called Alem Bank, hoping that the rent would be reduced.
There is no government institution that we have not gone to for a replacement or compensation. We have walked around. We have found no solution. We are left stranded in the field.
My youngest son has just finished 12th grade. If it weren’t for this, I would have paid for college and educated him well. Now he is wandering around looking for a job. I can’t do anything.
My wife, in her middle age, sells potatoes at the door. She doesn’t waste as much as a chickpea, thank God.
I also go here and there, saying that if I find a knot, I will carry it. Some people who know me give me ten or twenty birr.
I have an old sofa. I’m going to sell it now. What will it do for me to sit on it? Even if it costs me two thousand.
What am I thinking and pushing him away? My husband and I both have high blood pressure. We take medication. If I get angry, I will become something without seeing the end of my child. Who am I hurting but myself? Seeing this is a blessing. I keep thanking God.
I have seen all the governments since Haile Selassie. I have seen the bad and the good. I have never seen a government like this.
When all these houses are demolished, when all these people are displaced, I don’t know who he will live with.
Throwing a man out of his house and beating him? All these tears… What can I say but give him according to his work?
When a human being deserves to live with dignity, they fall on the ground. . . . What will I bring to the Bambars? I will bring no change.
Residents of Bole Sub-district 13, who say their homes and the area they have lived in for centuries have been demolished and left in the open due to development, have also said that they have received threats, including arrest, to prevent them from demanding what they say is their right.
A local resident, who was arrested for more than a month for “spreading false information” in connection with the case, was released on bail after being acquitted by a court, but was again charged with having ties to Fano.
The BBC has seen documents showing residents paying development contributions and various taxes for their properties, including water and electricity bills.
It also looked at the document in which 455 residents of the district submitted their petition to the EPRP party, who attached the number of their family members and other information; it is estimated that the number may be higher due to the number of residents who did not sign due to panic and other reasons.
BBC’s efforts to contact the Addis Ababa City Employment and Skills Bureau’s Head, Ato Tsertu Beyenen, and the Sub-City Executive Director, Ms. Alemtsehay Shifera, about the issue were unsuccessful.
It is also reported that there are additional people living in two districts in Bole Sub-city who have suffered the same fate.
In addition, 800 residents of Lemi Kura Sub-City District 13, also known as Quliti, have also complained that their houses were demolished two years ago and that they have not been compensated for the “Forest Project”.
In Addis Ababa, which began in 2016 and for which billions of birr were allocated, thousands of homes and institutions, including heritage buildings, have been demolished, especially in existing neighborhoods.
It is not yet clear how many have received replacement housing or compensation.
Addis Ababa City Mayor Adanech Abebe, while presenting his administration’s 2017 half-year performance report to the city council, stated that they have paid 10 billion birr in compensation to demolished houses in six months.
@ bbc Amharic
