Three Winning Short Stories. 2005

• Fighting against Ignorance by Askale Giday
• Fighting Poverty by Tigist Challa
• A Working Childhood by Zenebu Belete

Fighting against Ignorance

The author Askale Giday, is 14 years old and attends her local high school student in Addis Ababa, the capital of Ethiopia.

Overall literacy rates are low in Ethiopia, but there is also a wide gap between male and female literacy rates. In 2000, 39.7 per cent of males were literate compared to only 19.4 per cent of females. The reasons for girls not attending school, especially in rural areas, include early marriage, distance to school and parents' attitudes. The Millennium Development Goals call for countries to end gender disparity in primary and higher education ideally by 2005, and at all levels by 2015. The Ethiopian government is currently working towards achieving this goal.

There was a girl called Tigist Teshome, who lived in Addis Ababa. She was born in 1979 to her father Ato Teshome Girma and her mother Bizunesh. She was a very hard working student. As she often came first in her class, she won a lot of prizes.

Although she was very serious about her education, Tigist had a big problem with her family. Her parents thought that there was no point educating girls. According to them, girls should stay at home and help their parents, and then, after the age of fifteen, she should get married to keep her parents happy. So, what use does a girl make of her education?

Her parents' way of thinking comes from the fact that they are uneducated themselves and live in a remote rural area. Tigist continued to try to convince them. She worked hard and managed to complete grade five. But, at the end of the school year, her father told her she must either stop studying and get married or leave the house. Tigist was very sad about her father’s decision. She cried for several days. She did not know what to do. After thinking about it a lot, she had an idea. She decided to talk to her uncle, who had taught her English in Grade 5, about her parents’ decisions.

She went to the school and found her uncle and told him all about her problems. He was very angry at the decision of her family. He encouraged her to convince her parents of the importance of her education. He also promised to do everything he could to convince them. Tigist was happy with her uncle’s views. She went back home with some hope and confidence.

The next morning, Tigist’s uncle came to her house. At first, they all talked about family matters, but, finally, Tigist's uncle brought up the real reason for his visit. He asked Tigist's father why he wouldn't let her go to school. Tigist's father firmly told him that education was no use to Tigist because, “she has to help us at home. She has had enough education. It is time that she prepared herself to get married.”

Tigist's uncle decided to make his opinions known. He told Tigist's father that when girls go to school and get an education it benefits the girls and their families. He also pointed out that educated girls can contribute to the development of their country. He warned Tigist's father that she was too young to do any housework and “neither”, he added, “is she old enough to get married and understand what marriage means.”

Tigist's father was very angry when he heard his brother's opinions, “Any education beyond what Tigist has done is meant for boys. Are you daring to tell me that Tigist can go to senior school like boys? How can she manage? What capacity does a girl have to contribute to the development of this family? She doesn’t have the ability to help herself, let alone her country. Then, you are telling me that she is too young to do any housework. Am I going to work just to feed her?”

Tigist's uncle politely told her father that girls could be doctors, teachers, pilots, administrators, engineers or good farmers, if they get the proper education and training. “Don’t you see what these professionals can contribute to the advancement of this country? It's the education and skills that matter, not whether someone is a boy or a girl. So, if girls are properly educated and trained, they can contribute as much as boys to bring about changes in their country's development,” he said.

Tigist's father still wasn't convinced, “What chance do girls have of becoming doctors and engineers? Are you kidding? Can you give me a living example of female doctor or engineer in our community? Let them learn how to handle their home affairs first. Do you think I'm stupid enough to think that Tigist can become a doctor or an engineer? She has to get married soon.” He was so angry that his whole body was shaking.

“What?” Tigist's uncle was shocked.

“I said I am going to get her married”, Tigist's father repeated.

“You can't do that”, said Tigist's uncle, equally firmly. “That is sheer ignorance. What sense can this little girl make out of marriage? It is just impossible.”

Tigist's uncle decided to try and convince his brother in a calm way. “Please, I don’t want to argue with you anymore over this. Listen to me. Tigist is still too young to get married. If she married at this age, she is going to face physical, mental, social and moral problems, especially if she gets pregnant when she's this young. It would be very dangerous for her and the baby. You and your family are going to regret this step, if she or the baby dies.”

Tigist's father was shocked to hear this, “What? Did you say that the baby or the mother might die? Is my child going to die because of early marriage? It can't be true. Why are you looking only at the dark side of marriage? I married her mother when she was her age. Nothing bad happened. This is sheer spite. You should never say that to me again.”

“It is not a matter of wishing you bad luck,” said Tigist's uncle. “I only mean that Tigist should continue with her education. Let her finish her education. Marriage at this stage of life is not good for her. You are going to regret it, if you force her to get married now. Let her learn first and she can decide about her marriage later on. The only thing that is important for her now is her education. If you really love her, let her continue with her education.”

“Why don’t you just leave me alone?” shouted Tigist's father. “I have already made an arrangement for Tigist’s marriage. The boy is from a wealthy and noble family. She is going to lead a happy and luxurious life. He has promised to give me a good sum of money. Please leave me alone, I have already made a firm decision. I can not change my mind. Don’t try and force me to change my mind.”

But Tigist's uncle would not give up. “Do you really mean to give your child away for the sake of money? Please, imagine what type of problems you are going to face tomorrow by exchanging your child for the rich man’s money. Imagine if she gets pregnant soon, she might bleed too much when giving birth. As I told you earlier, this would mean death to both her and her baby. You seem more bothered about the money than you are about the life of your daughter. If she gets a good education, she can give you much more money than you are going to get from that man. You will be a good example as the only father of an educated daughter in the community. She will also be the pride of the family, the community and the country at large if she gets a good education and some training. So, please, give up the idea of marriage and accept the idea of her getting a good education, and you will enjoy the result. Let her continue with her education”

Tigist's father remained silent for a while. It was clear he was thinking about all the things his brother had said. “What's wrong?” asked Tigist's uncle, looking at his brother's expression.

“Nothing,” Tigist's father said, “nothing's happened to me. I am thinking about what you said about ignorance and what it means for me. I didn’t get an education either. A lot of things have been going through my mind ever since you mentioned that Tigist can make me and even her country proud of her, if she gets a good education and training. Thank you, you've taught me a lot. I was going to do harm to my child, my country and myself. Now I understand things better. I am not going to force her to get married any more. I will not even mention it in front of her. She will continue with her education. I will do everything possible to support her education. I will ask her to forgive me for the way I have disrupted her education.

Tigist's uncle was very pleased by the change in attitude that his arguments had brought about. He rose up and said, “Brother, you have really honored me, let God honor you.”

They hugged and kissed each other. Then he went out and told Tigist about the result of the discussion. She jumped up and down. She did not know what to say. She hugged and kissed her uncle. Her father also kissed her and said, “My daughter, please excuse me. I did not mean to hurt you. I was only trying to respect our culture. I did not understand how much your education meant to you. It is because I have not been educated. Please forgive me.”

Tigist responded triumphantly. “It is alright Dad! I am just glad that you have changed your mind and said yes at last.”

Tigist's uncle was pleased that he'd managed to resolve the problem and had given Tigist the opportunity to continue her studies. Tigist continued her studies and finally earned a first-degree.

Fighting Poverty

Tigist Challa is a 15 years old and lives in Awasa, which is the capital city of one of the Southern Nations, Nationalities and People Regional State (SNNPRS). She attends high school and lives with her mother.

29.4 million people in Ethiopia live in absolute poverty, among which 13.2 million are children under 14. In households that live in absolute poverty, there is only £30 or less to spend on each person a month. Half of all children live in houses that are made from wood or mud and have only one room that is shared by the whole family. This type of house is unlikely to be have a toilet or running water. For toilets, people may hire someone like the child's father in Tigist's story to dig a deep pit toilet for them.

('Birr' is the name of the national currency in Ethiopia.)

I used to wonder why people got sick or die. I would always ask myself, “What is death?” but I never knew the answer.

I'd see my father carrying a spade and hoe but I never knew why he carried these things around. One evening, my father came home disappointed. He was talking to himself, saying, “I don’t work for them any more! I don’t care if they don’t pay me for the work I did for them!” I always feel sorry for him whenever I hear him talking like that.

Later on he sat on the edge of his bed, and asked me to sit beside him. He started to smile and looked at me with affection. “Hasn’t your mother come home yet?” he asked.

“She did come, but that fat woman who hired her for the kitchen job came to take her away to do some extra work” I answered.

“Oh God! Why did she take away to do extra work? Why doesn’t she do it herself? They hired her to work in the kitchen, not to do extra things! This is bad!” After a moment of contemplation, he looked up at the roof and added, “OK my Lord, let your will be done.”

As we were sitting there, somebody knocked at the door, which is made out of a corrugated iron sheet. “Go and get the door” my father instructed. When I opened the door, it was my mother.

“Good evening” she said, walking tiredly into the room.

“Good evening. And how was your day?” asked my father, standing up to go.

“Where are you going father?” I asked him.

“I will be back soon, my son,” and turning to my mother, he said “Give him his supper”

My mother threw her old towel on the bed and put the plastic bag she was holding on a broken, old table. Then she took out some leftover food from the bag and put it on a plate and said in a low, weak voice, “Wash your hands and eat.” I hesitated. Puzzled with my reaction, she asked if anything was wrong with me and started to cuddle my head with her cold hands.

“Where are you bringing this leftover food from? And where is my father going, with his digging materials? I asked her repeatedly. I'd been thinking about this for a long time but hadn't said anything.

Still puzzled but serious, she said, “Why do you care? Why don’t you just keep quiet and eat?”

I decided to tell her what had happened at school, “My classmate Biruk insulted me saying ‘Your family is poor, your mother is a kitchen maid working in somebody else's house. That is where she brings you leftover food from. Your father earns money by digging dry latrines and things like that.’ Other students in the school also insult me, because of what Biruk told them about our family being poor. But Mama, what is 'being poor'?” I looked at her. She was crying silently, her tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Why are you crying Mama? I asked her.

“Why shouldn’t I cry son? Poverty is whipping me mercilessly”. She added, with more tears, "Destitution is consuming me like fire. Until now, your father and I have worked hard to provide you with food and clothing, and to pay your school fees, but now the responsibilities are becoming unbearable. Your sister Mantegbosh who was as bright as you are, died early. Our poverty was responsible for her death. Oh my God, what can I say? Let your wish be done”

My father and mother always look to the ceiling and say “Let your wish be done.” Why is that?

Mama keeps saying to me “Grow to be a strong man.” But how can I be a strong man?

My mother washed her face. Then she handed me some water in an old plastic jug and told me to wash my hands.” After washing my face and hands, I ate all the leftover food that she'd brought.

“Are you full? She asked, picking up the empty plate.

Although I wasn't, I said “yes.” What could she do if I had said “No”? I felt so sorry for my mother.

“Wash your feet and go to sleep” she said and went to make the bed. As she was moving to the bed, someone knocked at our door.

“Who is it? Come in!” said my mother glancing at the door. It was my classmate, Biruk. Holding the door wide open, he said to my mother, “My mother wants you to come to our house and have coffee. Where is your husband?”

I did not like Biruk. Though I did not know what it meant, he always called me “poor” and I knew it was a bad thing.

“OK I will come! My husband has just gone out,” said my mother to Biruk and started making the bed. She finished quickly, because Biruk was still waiting for her.

“Go to bed, I will be back soon after having a cup of coffee,” she said as she went out with Biruk. I watched them until they disappeared out of sight and I went to bed.

As soon as I got into bed and closed my eyes, the bed bugs began to attack me. They crawled all over my body; biting my legs and my back. I scratched my body as fast as I could, but it didn't help. When it got even worse, I got out of the bed, stood on the floor and gazed at the wall. In the cracks and holes of the muddy wall, I saw thousands of bugs. They were waiting in file like soldiers ready for action. I tried to kill them, pressing them between my fingers, but when I killed some, more just fell onto the bed. It was a waste of time.

I saw my fingers: they were covered with blood. I brought them close to my nose, they smelt awful. I couldn't put up a fight against the bugs anymore. Even watching them made me tired. Finally, I fell asleep.

When I woke up the next morning, my itchy, bitten body was ash white as though I'd slept in powder. I got off the bed and went out, rubbing my eyes. Nobody was around. As I sat down on a stone just outside our door, I saw my mother and father coming towards me. They were talking to each other, but I couldn’t understand what they were saying.

“Are you awake?” my father asked looking at me.

As they were entering the house, I heard my mother say to my father, “Don’t be angry! Let it go! You will get what God gives you”

My father sounded desperate, “What makes me angry is that after they agreed to pay me thirty Birr for digging a square meter, they paid me only thirty birr for digging three square meters.”

That same afternoon, a man called my father to dig a latrine for him. After kissing me on my cheek, my father went to the man's house.

In the evening, my father didn't come back with his digging materials like he normally does; he was very late. My mother and I were very worried, especially my mother. Then we found out that what she had feared had happened. At about 8 o'clock in the morning, we heard the terrible news that started the darkest period of our family's life; my father had died in a car accident!

I can’t fully recall what happened that day. After the death of my father, my mother’s health deteriorated and she died a year later.

I hated my life after my parents’ death. I understood how ugly poverty and death are. I almost went mad. As days passed, however, I gained strength and composed myself. My classmate, Biruk, who used to insult me, changed his attitude and was more sympathetic to my problems. His parents, who knew all about my parents' tragic deaths, invited me to live with them.

One day I said to Biruk “I never want to be a burden to your parents. Let me go to school in the mornings and do some work in the afternoons. I may be able to buy my own exercise book at least.”

“No” Biruk said, “You are only a small boy. You can’t go to work.” We argued for a long time and finally, Biruk said, “Ok then, if you insist on your plan, I have an idea for you.”

“What?” I asked.

“Be a shoe polisher”

I accepted the idea delightedly. Biruk told his parents about my idea. They agreed and bought me the materials that a shoe polisher needed. I started the job as planned. Gradually, I earned enough money to buy exercise books, pencils, and reading books. Sometimes, I even bought books for Biruk. Later on, I managed to buy my own shoes and clothes.

I have decided to continue studying and working in this way. I would have been a much happier person had my parents been alive. They too would have been happy had they seen how grown up and brave I am. I am determined to get an education for myself and fight the poverty that made my parents miserable and eventually killed them.

A Working Childhood

The author, Zenebu Belete is 14 and attends high school in Addis Ababa. She lives with her parents, and brothers and sisters.

One in four children in Ethiopia work outside the family to supplement household income and another 3 in 4 children help out in the family business in some way. About 9 per cent of children who work are saving money to pay for school fees. 42 per cent of working children give all their earnings to their parents whilst 26 per cent give only a portion of their earnings. Children aged between 5 and 17 who work in income-generating activities work up to 40 hours per week. The National Survey of Child Labour in Ethiopia shows that 39 per cent of children surveyed had started working before they were five years old. (Child Labour Survey Report, 2001).

I was lying on my little bed, daydreaming. I could hear the telephone ringing in the dinning room. Could it be for me? I went through to the dining room and picked up the phone. I heard a faint voice at the other end of the line. “Hello! Hello!” I responded.

“Hello Betty, it's me, Genet” she said. I felt a bit worried, but I didn't know why. I hadn't heard from her for a long time. "What does my beloved, lonely friend have to tell me?" I wondered. “I am coming round to your house. Wait for me at home,” she said. With this, she put the phone down.

I first met Genet eight years ago. We were both watching a football game at the football field in my village. Genet is an innocent and benevolent girl. I see her friendship as a special gift God has given me. It is something I cannot explain, even to myself. Maybe, it is because I love her so much? I do not know. Our friendship developed over the years, and the more we got to know each other, the fonder we became of each other.

Genet lived far away from where I lived. While my parents have good jobs that earn a lot of money, Genet’s family had little to live on. They prayed to God to provide them with enough to eat. I always worried that despite Genet's real desire to go to school, her family's poverty stopped her. Poverty was a permanent presence in her family’s home. Her father, Debebe, was a carpenter, but instead of bringing home whatever he earned, he used to spend his earnings on alcohol. Her mother, Abeba sold small items in at local markets. Whatever she could earn as she stood under the scorching heat of the midday sun, she would use to keep the family alive.

Genet was also worried about the extreme poverty of her family. She had started going from house to house looking for part time work, mostly washing clothes, so she could earn some money for the family. Life became so miserable for her that she hated herself. She could not play and enjoy things like other children of her age in the village. Even if she had free time, she would not play because she had lost interest. Any opportunity to continue with her education was also blocked by poverty. Day after day she toiled, but could not overcome the poverty, hunger and misery that seemed to put down stronger roots in her family home every day. “But why are You so unkind to us?” she would ask God.

Suddenly, I heard a knock at my door. I snapped out of my daydreaming and got up to open the door. It was Genet, my beloved friend. After exchanging greetings, I could see from her expression that she had something serious to tell me. I was about to blurt out “What is the matter with you?” but I managed to bite my tongue and let her talk first.

“Betty”, she whispered. Her face was full of deep thoughts and misery. “Yes” I responded.

“There are a lot of things on my mind that I have never told you. I am always afraid of speaking my thoughts out loud. I have now convinced myself to confide in you,” she said, wiping away her tears with both hands. I didn’t know what to say. I simply watched the series of emotions that were passing over her face. She wouldn't look at me. Her eyes were fixed on the ceiling.

"I would like to tell you about my childhood and the things that have happened to me. I want to tell you who I am”. She breathed deeply and continued, “I was born in a rural town up north. I had no opportunity to play games like other children of my own age. By the time I was ten years old, I heard a rumor that I was going to be married to a man I had never met. I started thinking about what it was going to be like getting married at that age. I was really shocked. That is the day my miserable life began. I was the only female child for my parents. My father told me that I had to get married quickly and bring a dowry to the family before hunger caught a hold in the house. Although I was so young for marriage, I agreed to my father’s proposal hoping that my marriage would bring a solution to my family's problems. But, my mother convinced my father that I had to wait for a year. So, when I was eleven I got married and the dowry brought a lot of money to my family. After a year, my parents told me that they had sold their piece of land and they were about to leave our village and move to the city. They even encouraged me to abandon my husband and accompany them. So, after a short time, we arrived in Addis Ababa. My parents bought a small house with the money they had and we started a new life in the city.

My father found daily work. With the meager money he earned, the family managed to send me to school. It was a good beginning, but it did not last long. Soon, my father started changing his behavior. He became addicted to alcohol and forgot his love for his children. Knowing that my father was exposed to all the bad habits you can find in the city, I began to lose hope. I wished I were dead. Our home was besieged by poverty. We were mixed up in so many complicated problems. My only hope was to get an education and be able to relieve the family of its problems. I was determined to overcome our poverty, but, day after day, things got worse and there was no money to pay for our schooling. My brothers left the home and went to live on the streets. I realised I would end up like them and I didn't know what else I could do.

So, I've come to tell you that as an alternative, I have now decided to go to one of the Arab countries and work as a maid. What else can I do if our life is forever getting worse, instead of improving. I have to try to do everything possible in order to save my family. I know it is only you who can help me get out this misery. Your parents know about my problems, and I want to borrow some money from them.”

She said she would try to pay back the money after a little hard work in whichever country she went to. Genet had been overburdened by more problems than I could imagine. I felt very sorry for her and I thought I should convince my parents to help her.

I confessed to her “Genet, I am very sorry. I have learned for the first time that you have had such a horrible experience. You are a poor girl. I also believe that you have to get out of this miserable life.” I told her that I was ready to do anything to help her. After chatting for a while, she left.

I longed for my parents coming home after work. Should I talk to my father or my mother about this? I was left feeling indecisive and restless. Finally, my parents came home from work and I ran out and met them at the gate. After exchanging warm hugs, we all went inside. My father, as usual, sat down and started to rewind a videocassette. Before starting the film, he gave me the usual sign to go to my bedroom.

I had the opportunity to talk to my mother privately. She was tidying up upstairs. I told her that I had something to tell her. She stopped and gave me her attention. I told her everything Genet had told me. After listening to me attentively, she advised me to tell my father the whole story and ask him to assist Genet as she could not do it on her own. But I didn't dare to do that, and I went straight to my bed instead. After sometime, my mother came to tell me the good news. She told me that she'd spoken to my father and they had agreed to cover all the expenses to send Genet to an Arab country. I spent the whole night swimming in our pool. It seemed the night was longer than a year.

Early in the morning, I went to Genet’s home. I found her in her little room and congratulated her. She hugged and kissed me. It surprised me that she was so moved and had become so happy in no time.

She was overly confident about her future. In reality, there could be either bad or good luck awaiting her. No one can ever tell. I wished her the best. If things turned out well for her, it would mean that I would have made a great contribution to her success.

In a short time, Genet said “goodbye” to Ethiopia. We also said farewell to her. We wished her good luck and a safe homecoming in the future. Everybody in the neighborhoods gave her their blessing. So many people went to Bole Airport to see her off. Genet and I hugged each other and cried together. After a week, I got a letter heralding her safe arrival at her destination. She told me that she had found a comfortable job as a childminder. However, three months later when I received her next letter, I couldn't believe what she wrote to tell me. She had burned her employer's clothes by accident, while she was ironing. As a result, the man got mad and beat her badly and one of her eyes had been permanently damaged. I felt so sorry for her. I wrote back and advised her to leave everything and come back home. Unfortunately, later on, I learned that all the letters arriving from Ethiopia were torn up and burned by her employers. What could I do? There was no way to help her.

Genet's ambition to overcome her poverty was only a dream. The misery she experienced was so unbearable that life lost all meaning for her. After six months, we heard the worst possible news: Genet had committed suicide by throwing herself off a high building. Just as we had cried when she left us, we cried on her return, when we received her body in a coffin. I should have advised Genet not to go and I will always feel responsible for my friend’s death.