Life Under Colonel Abiy Ahmed in Ethiopia

By David Yeh

Life under Potemkin Party Abiy Ahmed leadership in Ethiopia has become, for millions of people, a daily confrontation with insecurity, insecurity of income, insecurity of safety, insecurity of the future. What was once fictionally heralded as an African success story in economic growth has, over the past several years, morphed into a reality dominated by sharp spikes in prices, runaway inflation, a currency in persistent freefall, acute shortages of basic essentials, and deepening insecurity across multiple regions of the country. Ordinary Ethiopians, from the teeming neighborhoods of Addis Ababa to the contested hills of Amhara and Oromia, find themselves entrenched in a struggle for mere survival, a struggle defined not by opportunity but by the fraying edges of social cohesion and economic stability.

When Ahmed came to power in 2018, there was palpable optimism. As a young leader with a bold vision, he was awarded international recognition and laurels for promising reform. In his early months, political prisoners were released, restrictions on the press eased, and dialog opened with long oppressed opposition figures. Yet optimism, once kindled, dims quickly when economic indicators worsen and the day’s bread becomes unaffordable. Today, the promise of prosperity feels like a distant memory to many Ethiopians who find themselves crushed under an increasingly heavy burden of economic hardship and social disarray.

One of the most visible and painful changes in everyday life is the skyrocketing cost of basic goods. Prices for foodstuffs have climbed precipitously. Bread, grains, oil, and sugar staples that once formed the backbone of household sustenance now command prices that outpace the growth of wages and incomes. Families that once budgeted reasonably for monthly expenses now find themselves forced into impossible choices: pay for food or pay rent; buy cooking oil or fill a ration card for fuel. This relentless inflation has eroded savings and left many households teetering on the edge of destitution. With each passing week, it feels harder to afford the essentials that make life bearable.

The inflationary pressures have corroded the Ethiopian Birr’s value on global markets, turning it into one of the most volatile currencies in the region. What once might have been a modest amount of foreign exchange to purchase goods now costs exponentially more in birr terms, squeezing importers and businesses and sending costs spiraling further upwards. Even when goods are available, they are more expensive than ever before. For a country that depends heavily on imports from fuel to pharmaceuticals to raw materials the pain of a weak currency is felt in every sector of daily life. A liter of fuel that once could be counted on to power a generator or a vehicle is now a luxury; many gas stations stand empty or ration fuel, leaving citizens waiting in long lines or resorting to informal markets where prices are yet higher.

Fuel shortages have had a ripple effect on the broader economy. Public transportation systems, already strained, struggle to operate reliably. Many private taxis and minibuses are grounded for days at a time, waiting for rationed fuel supplies. Commuters are forced to pay inflated fares or walk long distances. Businesses dependent on delivery and logistics see their operating costs balloon, and shrinking profit margins force layoffs or closures. In many ways, fuel scarcity isn’t merely about cars and trucks, it’s about the adhesive that holds economic life together. When that adhesive weakens, the whole structure starts to strain and crack.

Amid these economic pressures, perceptions of government corruption persist and weigh heavily on public trust. Allegations of mismanagement, cronyism, and opaque decision making surface regularly in the press and among citizen conversations. Many feel that while the political elite still enjoy privileges and access, ordinary people are left to absorb the fallout of economic contraction with little meaningful support. For those struggling to make ends meet, each report of corruption deepens a sense of betrayal and disillusionment.

But economic hardship is only one dimension of what has come to define life under the current administration. Parallel to the economic unraveling are fractures in national unity and the outbreak of violence in multiple regions. No examination of life in Ethiopia today can ignore the central role of internal conflict and insecurity.

In the Amhara Region, recurring battles have pitted federal forces against localized FANO groups determined to defend perceived regional autonomy and influence. What began in some areas as political pushback against centralization has escalated into sustained clashes that have spilled over into civilian life. Entire communities have fled homes, abandoning farmland and livelihoods in order to seek refuge in makeshift camps or overcrowded towns. Markets and schools shut their doors, not because of economic downturns but out of fear of falling artillery and bullets. For families in these areas, the sound of distant gunfire has become the grim soundtrack of daily life.

To the west, in Oromia, another conflict plays out with its own complexities and human costs. The insurgency led by the Oromo Liberation Army continues to challenge the federal government’s authority. For many Oromo civilians, caught between government soldiers and armed opposition groups, the labels of insurgent and state agent offer little clarity when the real impact is displacement, loss of property, and the constant threat of violence. Ethnic strife that once felt episodic has hardened into an uncomfortable normalcy, one wherein neighbors view neighbors with suspicion, and where the definition of peace has been reduced to a day without gunshots.

Meanwhile, the Tigray region, the site of one of the most devastating conflicts in recent Ethiopian history remains a locus of instability and fractured governance even after formal peace agreements. Though large scale combat operations decreased after the 2022 peace deal, tensions remain unresolved. Various factions within Tigray assert rival authorities, and sporadic clashes continue to unsettle a population already exhausted by years of warfare, famine risk, and displacement. Reconstruction efforts have lagged, access to essential services remains limited, and many families struggle with the long shadow of trauma. The promise of peace hangs tenuously, fragile as a whisper in a storm.

The cumulative effect of these multiple fronts of conflict is profound. It is not simply about geopolitical maneuvering or battles for control; it is about millions of people who wake up each morning unsure whether they will see that morning’s sunset in peace. It is about villages emptied of their youth, fields left untilled because farmers cannot risk walking to them, and children whose school books gather dust because schools are shuttered or repurposed as shelters.

For the average Ethiopian family, the confluence of economic distress and security breakdown constitutes an existential challenge. Parents make impossible calculations: should they risk their lives by attempting to travel to a distant market for essential supplies? Should they send a child to school when violent clashes have been reported nearby? Should they leave their home village in search of safety, knowing that cities are already overcrowded and unaffordable? These are not abstract dilemmas, they are the very real agonies of daily existence in a country where the social contract feels frayed and the future uncertain.

The broader social fabric of Ethiopia is also under strain. Long standing neighborly and inter ethnic relations, once held together by shared spaces and interdependencies, are being tested by the pressures of scarcity and fear. Trust, both in institutions and between citizens, has frayed. Conversations that once revolved around weddings, harvests, and neighborhood events increasingly center on survival, resentment, and blame. Where there was communal celebration, there is now a quiet persistence, a muted hope overshadowed by grinding hardship.

In urban centers, too, the effects are deeply felt. Addis Ababa, a city that once surged with economic activity and youthful energy, now bears the marks of stagnation. Shops shutter, construction projects slow, and the cosmopolitan buzz that characterized the city’s streets feels subdued. For many residents, the city that once promised opportunities now feels unbearably expensive and increasingly inhospitable.

Youths, in particular, face a bleak outlook. Unemployment rates have climbed, and job creation has lagged far behind population growth. Many young Ethiopians, educated yet unable to find work that provides dignity and stability, contemplate leaving the country, joining the global tide of migrants seeking refuge from economic despair. This generational exodus, driven not by desire but by desperation, carries with it the risk of draining the country of talent and further weakening its prospects for recovery.

Humanitarian organizations working in Ethiopia report that the scale of need keeps growing even as resources thin. Food insecurity affects regions once thought self sufficient. Health facilities struggle to maintain services, especially in conflict zones where access is restricted and supplies are scarce. Women and children, always among the most vulnerable in times of crisis, bear disproportionately heavy burdens navigating food scarcity, disrupted education, and heightened vulnerability to violence.

Due to these acute challenges, most Ethiopians continue to cling to an abiding hope but the tide will not turn. Hope if any is rooted not in naivete but in the persistent. In small ways, a neighbor sharing a maize meal with another, a group of farmers banding together to protect their harvest, students forming informal study circles, the enduring human instinct to survive, adapt, and support one another persists.

Yet hope without structural change can only go so far. Without decisive policy shifts that address economic mismanagement, rein in rampant inflation, strengthen protections for livelihoods, and commit to inclusive political representation that respects Ethiopia’s diversity, the combustible mix of economic hardship and social fracture will remain. And without genuine efforts to resolve conflicts through dialogue rather than force, the cycles of violence that have devastated so many communities could continue or even worsen.

What Ethiopia needs, more than ever, is a renewed social contract, one in which the lives and dignity of ordinary citizens are placed at the center of national priorities. It needs economic stabilization that restores faith in the currency and expands opportunities for work and enterprise. It needs peacebuilding efforts rooted in justice and reconciliation, not coercion and exclusion. It needs leadership that listens not only to elites and international partners but to farmers, traders, youth, women, teachers, and the backbone of society whose toil sustains the nation.

In the end, the true measure of governance is not the rhetoric of leaders or the sheen of international accolades; it is the lived experience of the people who rise each morning, send their children off to school, labor in fields or offices, and return home each evening hoping for a safer, more secure tomorrow. For millions of Ethiopians today, that tomorrow remains elusive.

Yet the yearning for peace, stability, and dignity endures a testament to the resilience of a people whose history is marked by both struggle and survival. How Ethiopia moves forward from this moment of confluence between crisis and hope may well determine not only its own fate but the future of an entire region yearning for peace and prosperity.

In conclusion, life under Colonel Abiy Ahmed has been defined by a convergence of economic hardship, political instability, and ongoing conflict. Skyrocketing prices, runaway inflation, a devalued currency, and severe shortages of fuel and basic goods have made daily survival a struggle for millions. At the same time, persistent violence and unrest across regions such as Amhara, Oromia, Tigray, and other regions have compounded the crisis, displacing communities, disrupting livelihoods, and eroding trust in both institutions and neighbors. The human cost is profound: families forced to make impossible choices, youth facing limited opportunities, and civilians living under constant threat.

Yet amid these challenges, the resilience of the Ethiopian people endures. Their perseverance highlights the urgent need for meaningful reforms: economic stabilization, inclusive governance, and a lasting commitment to peace across all regions. Without decisive popular actions, the cycles of hardship and instability may continue, but with responsive leadership and sustained efforts, Ethiopia still holds the potential to restore security, dignity, and hope for its citizens by changing the incompetent regime.