Soul's Wisdom

When a simple tool reveals a civilization's soul Philosophical questions delight precisely because they unsettle us. They stretch minds, spark wit, and often deliver unexpected humor.  Consider biology’s eternal riddle:  Which came first—the chicken or the egg?   Student answers range from lexical logic (“C comes before E!”) to culinary pragmatism (“Both are delicious!”). My favorite?  “ Egg at breakfast, chicken at dinner—case closed.”  Charm overrules coherence every time. Now, let’s turn this playful inquiry toward Ethiopia’s past: Which tool anchored human ingenuity first—the stick ( dula ) or the stone ( dïngay )? Historians debate fiercely. Some champion the  dula  as humanity’s earliest ally. Others counter that stones endure millennia while wood decays—suggesting a “Stone Age” predating any hypothetical “Stick Age.” Yet walk through Ethiopia today, and the  dula  whispers an older story. Now, applying that same spirit of cu...

What do you make of this picture at first glance? Be honest—a bird’s nest? A scarecrow-like contraption to ward off pigeons in a field? Or maybe a handmade toy crafted for a child? If you guessed any of the above, you’re off the mark. Those familiar with the indigenous t’əla betoch —local drink houses—in parts of Addis Ababa and beyond might be tempted to think it’s a rustic placard advertising the brew within. But alas, that’s another swing and a miss. I’ve always believed in the journalistic adage that “every picture tells a story.” That said, I’ve also seen plenty of images that fall flat, failing to communicate anything at all. On the other hand, there are photographs so profound they become part of the historical record—quietly documenting time, place, and hardship with visceral honesty. A powerful photograph, unlike a painting or a written piece, feels like unfiltered reality, captured without an intermediary. There's a beautiful Amharic verse that expresses this ...

Menelik II remains one of the most beloved emperors in Ethiopian history—not only for his military triumphs, but for his groundbreaking efforts to modernize the country. He opened the door to technological advancement and enacted numerous reforms that were far ahead of his time. Yet, these efforts did not come without fierce resistance and harsh criticism, much of it from within his own circles. Among the many innovations introduced during his reign, the arrival of the telephone stands out—not just for its novelty, but for the controversy it sparked. This seemingly magical device became a source of both awe and alarm, especially among conservative elements of society, including the clergy. The humorous yet telling confrontations between the visionary emperor and those who opposed his modern reforms are at the heart of this story. According to legendary Ethiopian journalist P’awlos ňo ňo in his book As’e Menelik ( Emperor Menelik ), and noted historian Tekle Tsadik Mekuria in As...

Like language, music is a human universal. It consists of perceptually distinct elements arranged in hierarchically structured sequences according to syntactic principles. In simpler terms, both music and language are governed by rules—rhythms, harmonies, or grammar—that shape how we experience and make meaning of them. A study published in Current Biology (ScienceDaily, March 20, 2009) offers striking evidence of music’s universality. The research found that native African individuals—many of whom had never even listened to the foreign radio—could still accurately recognize happy, sad, and fearful emotions in Western music . This suggests that fundamental emotional expressions through music transcend culture and geography. In other words, what is played in one part of the world can carry meaning in another. There is, indeed, a deep and intricate relationship between language and music. Recent findings from Georgetown University Medical Center—published in the journal NeuroImage...

It’s that time again— kΪrəmt , Ethiopia’s long-awaited rainy season, has crept in. But this year, it arrived with a twist: softer showers, lighter skies, and an unfamiliar chill in the air. Gone are the relentless downpours that used to chase us indoors. Today’s kΪrəmt feels more like a quiet companion than a stormy guest. And while the weather may have mellowed, it still brings something familiar—something irresistible. You know it when it hits you: a smoky, sweet aroma curling through the streets as you finish your afternoon walk or post-work jog. Suddenly, your stomach growls in agreement. You slow your pace, sniff the air, and there it is - Bək’olo TΪbs - Roasted corn on the cob. Charred. Juicy. Perfect. The Unofficial Street Food of kΪrəmt Every season has its flavor. For Ethiopia’s rainy days, that flavor is unmistakably Bək’olo TΪbs . Sold on street corners across Addis and beyond, it’s more than a snack—it’s a memory. It's the warmth after the wet. The crunch after the...