The slum behind the colorful wall

By Eden Habtamu | Ezega.com

Addis Ababa, Ethiopia — I am not good at joking. I don’t even remember most of the jokes I hear, nor do I have the habit of memorizing them to tell others. But I cannot forget the jokes I have heard about “Cherkos” – the slum known for its poor and overpopulation. May be because the stories are touching, or they have great relevance to life for most of our population. In that sense, I don’t believe the jokes are only about “Cherkos” but, rather, about the majority of us.

Whenever the name “Cherkos” is mentioned on any casual talk, I expect scary jokes. One day, I was thinking about these jokes and started wondering what part of our city (Addis Ababa) does not have such places? I could not find any. Semien, Debube, Misrak and Meirab – all have something in common. You will find all kinds of people: millionaires, rich, upper middle class, middle class, average, below average, poor, very poor, and the homeless.

I don’t hate seeing the rich live near the poor, or the co-existence of the palace with the slum. In fact it’s good thing that at least we share the same place and air, although we use it differently.

I assume sometimes we become blinded by names regardless of what is behind them. When we hear about Bole and Cherkos, we see the stereotypical images we have of them. We just feel Bole is a place only for those who can afford the expensive supermarkets, pricey cars, and those who live in the “palaces”. Of course, the opposite is true for Cherkos and the other slums in our town.

But, in reality, I find that it is just a matter of degree but all have various types of people in different proportions. Recently, I visited the big slum in the Bole area (the so-called high class “sefer”) around 2Km from Bole International Airport. Bole, as we all know, is the place that everyone wishes to reside. Although there are pockets of Bole where we find slums, I focused mainly on the one slum that is commonly called “Wollo Sefer” – the one that is hidden from Bole Road (Africa Avenue) by the colorful wall.

They proudly call it Bole!, with a stress on ‘e’. Many people think of Bole as a “Sefer” with full of abundance, stability, tranquility, and a place reserved for only those who can afford to be Bole residents. I wondered what makes the slum in “Wollo Sefer” different from the slum in “Cherkos” that people joke about so often? Is there any difference with being homeless and needy regardless of where you live? Do the residents of these two slums live differently? I wondered if the people at the Cherkos slum look at people at the Bole slum with envy. It is difficult to see any difference in being poor and homeless in any part of the city.

Anyway, I went to check out for myself into the smaller slum at the beginning of Wollo Sefer, just behind the colorful and greenish wall, which I believe divides the slum residents from the stereotypical Bole.

I headed into the village right away and unplanned (of course, you cannot plan to visit a slum – you just go) to see the messy and very destitute “houses” there.

I was looking at households with 3-10 occupants. I started looking for someone who was willing to take part in my interview. I met girls who were eager to show me their compound and to get me someone for my interview. When I reached their compound, I noticed three houses irregularly placed – houses that cannot really be called houses. I was expecting the girl to take me to one of the houses but, instead, she invited me to follow her to the back of the houses. I didn’t hesitate. She took me over a drainage covered by 60 cm wide fragile “bridge” made with sticks, in between the two walls. I should have been careful not to break my legs if I missed the sticks. I tried to see the running flood; it was a mix of toilet and other waste substances.

The girl happily took me to the lady that she thought may accept strangers for an interview. At the back side of the compound (which has no particular fence but has territory marks), I noticed single room “houses” that were placed arbitrarily, which I doubt most people can get in standing straight. The houses seem to be shrinking and sinking to the ground, since almost all of them are less than 2 meter high. In the very small open area, there were red pepper and grains left to dry by the sun. One must be careful not to walk over these items along the passage between houses.

My guide introduced me to W/o Etalem Worku, a mother of four. I asked her permission to talk to her for few minutes. She nicely welcomed me to share her life experience. She has been living here for 30 years, 18 years of which in the single room that she is living now. Etalem, her husband, the four children and her mother live in this single room. Etalem washes clothes at various places for a living, and her husband is a laborer at different construction sites. She told me that they are trying to fulfill the need of their family, although it has been very difficult to attain any of their goals.

I have asked Etalem what is their most important need. She did not even complain about living in a single room with a family of seven. She just told me how hard it is to live in a place where there is no sanitation facility. “Sometimes the lavatory overflow comes right into our door. Usually our children are playing and we are cooking outside; you can imagine how difficult it is” Etalem said.

I asked here if she feels their life will improve if they resettle somewhere else. Etalem said exhaustedly, “I believe so.” She continued, “The government told us many times that they will give us a place to settle, something like a condominium. That would have been much better for us, but we got nothing so far. We don’t have anything to live a decent life here.”

I asked her for her picture at the side of her door. She was positive and agreed to be photographed. Fortunately her mother was also nearby and was included in the picture. As I was taking her picture, I noticed that she stood just right on her door near the open drainage that I walked over so carefully.

I thanked Etalem and left their “compound”. As I walked out of the slum, I noticed a “Kuralee’w” (a person who buys old commodities – metals, plastics, glass, etc., going door to door). He was counting items excitedly and forecasting his profits. I assumed he brought it from the so-called high class Bole Sefer.

So, this is life at the Wollo Sefer slum in short. There is little difference from what I saw in Cherkos, Abenet, Sebatega, or even at “egna sefer”, the place I live in right now. In the end, it is all the same – a slum is a slum.