To be an Amhara woman today is to carry wounds too deep for words—wounds that history refuses to close. It is to inherit generations of suffering, to bear the scars of mothers raped before their children, of young girls stolen and never seen again, of pregnant women whose wombs were torn open because they carried the future of the Amhara people.
It is to be told that our pain is invisible, that our suffering does not matter. When an Amhara girl is kidnapped from her university, when her body is shattered beyond repair, the world looks away. It is to witness the deliberate destruction of an entire generation of women and know that their agony is not incidental—it is intentional.
To violate an Amhara woman is to wound not just her, but the very soul of a people. It is a calculated act of domination, extending beyond the individual to an entire nation. From Welkait to Wollega, from Benishangul-Gumuz to Mai Kadra and Ataye, the message is clear: you are meant to suffer, you are meant to disappear.
This is genocide—not only through the massacre of Amharas but through the systematic destruction of women by rape, forced impregnation, and mutilation. History has shown us this pattern
After singer Hachalu Hundessa’s death, mobs rampaged through ‘Oromia,’ targeting Amharas. A pregnant Amhara woman was disemboweled, her unborn child ripped from her body. This was not random brutality—it was ritualistic genocide.
For decades, Amhara women have carried the unbearable weight of a system designed to erase us. Whether through sexual violence, forced sterilization, or the murder of our children, the goal has always been the same: to make Amhara women despise their own existence.
