By: Ahmed Mohammed
“She was my love, my heart, my soul,
But the tides of time tore us apart.
Now I stand here, longing for her touch.
Wishing fate would reunite us once more."
These lyrics, loosely translated and inspired by Tewodros Kassahun, aka Teddy Afro’s longing for a love lost to separation, are yet prophetic ones foreseeing the inevitable reunion of Ethiopia and Eritrea, a mother and a child, respectively. “Is Teddy insightful?” I had wondered when the two nations resolved their no-war, no-peace mood in 2018, a historic phenomenon that sadly collapsed shortly though. The other day, I by chance met a friend of mine from old school in a café, a fun corner where Eritreans and Ethiopians frequently frequent for mingling. We regretfully discussed grave errors committed by old-school petitioners, both from Ethiopia and Eritrea. We also made a mental note of bonanzas we Ethiopians and Eritreans would enjoy if we remained united and foreshadowed the bright future ahead of us.
Dear Brothers and Sisters of Eritrea,
Greetings from the heart of Ethiopia, from your twin flames.
This letter comes to you not as a demand, but as an appeal—a plea from the heart of Ethiopia, your motherland, your kin. I write not with arrogance, but with sorrow for the years lost, the opportunities missed, and the dreams shattered by the shortsightedness of past leaders on both sides, leaders of post-independent Eritrea. Teddy Afro’s song about a love lost to separation mirrors the tragedy of both Ethiopia and Eritrea. Just as he mourns the girl he could not hold onto, millions of Ethiopians and Eritreans mourn the unity that was irresponsibly shattered decades ago. Yet, our story is not unique—it is one of thousands, written by the hands of fate, politics, and the divisive legacy that colonialists from overseas left behind.
Dear Eritreans,
As I am penning down this letter right now, Abreham Afeworki’s song is playing in the background, forcing me to return back in years, lost in my nostalgic mood, which helped me retrieve deep-buried memories of old days I shared with my Eritrean childhood friends, including my ex, who was lost to separation. So sad, yet so optimistic that our reunion is inevitable.
Dear Eritreans,
Be conscious, note down opportunities we lost, and recall the euphoria we claimed when the border between Ethiopia and Eritrea opened in 2018. The streets of Asmara and Addis Ababa, which erupted into a carnival mood. Be conscious and rethink the newfound energy seen over the skies of Zalambessa. It was like a reunion of twin flames—so euphoric, so perfect in this imperfect world. The joy families showed when reunited, the laughter echoed, and hope blossomed. Eritreans danced to Ethiopian music, and Ethiopians embraced their long-lost brothers and sisters. But that hope faded, buried under the weight of unresolved grievances and missed opportunities, largely because of invisible dark forces, not from Ethiopia or Eritrea, but from elsewhere.