The crocodile tears of Abiy Ahmed—the decorated horse at the podium

By Ephrem B Hidug
September, 2025

         “Seyoum Mesfin’s legacy cannot be erased. His life was a plow. His words were seeds.”


It is by the sweat of the ox that the horse is praised.”

In Ethiopian allegory, there is a saying:(የበሬን ውለታ ወሰደው ፈረሱ ከሁዋላ ተነስቶ ቀድሞ በመድረሱ)

For the purpose of this article, the Amharic allegory is translated as: “The horse won mankind’s favor over the ox because it is faster.”

At first glance, it seems a tale of speed triumphing over strength. But beneath this lies a bitter irony: admiration is often misplaced. Applause chases spectacle, not substance. The ox—slow, silent, and steady—tills the land, feeds the people, and sustains life. Yet it is the horse—adorned, swift, and visible—that receives the grain, the glory, and the gaze of admiration.

So too, in the story of the Grand Ethiopian Renaissance Dam (GERD), the oxen—those who truly toiled—are forgotten while the horses bask in praise. The dedicated engineer Simegnew Bekele and the diplomatic architect Seyoum Mesfin, both key figures in GERD’s creation, were tragically killed by their own government. Meanwhile, Abiy Ahmed wept during the dam’s inauguration for reasons that remain unclear. (I wish to hear his explanation on reputable platforms like BBC Hardtalk, and DW’s Conflict Zone where real questions are asked and honest answers expected.)

Yet, as we inaugurate the GERD, it is worth remembering that Ethiopia lost two of its most indispensable oxen years ago—Seyoum Mesfin, the statesman whose diplomatic efforts laid the dam’s cornerstone, and Simegnew Bekele, the chief engineer and mastermind behind its construction. Now that the dam stands complete—a testament to engineering excellence and national determination—their names were notably absent from the official inauguration ceremony. Regrettably, Seyoum Mesfin has received no recognition in the media. I choose to mention him because I am a firsthand witness to his pivotal contributions and lasting achievements

In his place stands Abiy Ahmed, the decorated horse at the podium—basking in praise for a journey he barely walked


Who Plowed the Nile?

GERD is today hailed as a monument to Ethiopian pride and resilience. But it did not sprout from Abiy Ahmed’s Nobel-clad shadow. It was nurtured through decades of plowing — exhausting negotiations, strategic planning, and bold resistance against global pressure.

At the heart of that labor was Seyoum Mesfin. As Ethiopia’s longtime foreign minister and the second chief diplomat, he crafted the doctrine of Nile sovereignty with his EPRDF giants, breaking the chains of colonial-era treaties that denied Ethiopia its rightful share of the river. While others raced for global approval, Seyoum dug in — forging African alliances, defending Ethiopia in international forums, and refusing to let his country be painted as a regional threat.

Together with Prime Minister Meles Zenawi, Seyoum laid the groundwork to fund and build GERD independently when few believed Ethiopia could do it.

He plowed. And plowed. And plowed.

After Meles Zenawi’s passing, Hailemariam Desalegn stepped in — not to claim the harvest, but to continue plowing the field. He was another ox: quiet, steady, and committed to the ideals that birthed GERD. He didn’t just inherit the vision; he walked the talk, refining plans, managing pressures, and driving construction forward. His leadership helped transform the dream into tangible progress.

In contrast, Abiy Ahmed came to power not with a plow in hand, but with a thirst for applause. His record on capital projects reveals a lack of depth and discipline. His grasp of state interests, strategic infrastructure, and diplomacy is, at best, shallow. Had GERD not already been built stone by stone by Ethiopians before him, there is little doubt: he would have aborted it.

Abiy lacks the vision for Grand National projects, the courage to defend them, and the commitment to see them through. GERD, to him, is not a lifeline — it’s a child’s toy, waved before cameras for attention, with no understanding of the blood, sweat, and sacrifice it took to build it.


The Horse Arrives

By the time Abiy Ahmed galloped onto the scene in 2018, the fields had been tilled, the foundation poured, and the direction set. Yet he trotted in as though the harvest was his.

Hungry for global praise, Abiy began undoing years of principled diplomacy. He made reckless overtures to Egypt, verbally endorsing the colonial narrative of “historical rights” — a position Ethiopia had rejected for decades. To win another peace prize, he used GERD not as a lifeline, but as a prop. In doing so, he handed sensitive documents to Egypt, welcomed U.S. and World Bank interference, and betrayed the sovereign path forged by those before him.

The technical committee fractured. Seasoned experts resigned. The Nile Basin Initiative and its  Cooperative Framework — once stalled under his leadership — has now been ratified and entered into force, reaffirming the principle of equitable water sharing.

This was not a leader defending the oxen’s labor. This was a showman galloping across their backs.


The Oxen Who Fell

And then came the deaths.

  • Engineer Simegnew Bekele, the face of GERD’s construction, found lifeless in a parked car — under unexplained and suspicious circumstances.
  • Seyoum Mesfin, gunned down in a political purge, far from his rightful place as a national hero.

The official stories are tidy. But the timing, the pattern — they raise questions that remain unanswered. If Seyoum was the ox who plowed, Abiy is the horse who came to feast — trampling those who cleared the path.

The inauguration of GERD should have been a moment of collective pride — a tribute to Ethiopia’s decades of determination. Instead, it became a pageant of self-promotion.

The real architects were missing.
The silent laborers were silenced.
The dam they built became a stage for those who sought only applause.

Yet history, like the earth, remembers the footprints of the ox.


A Dam Built in Silence

GERD is not Abiy Ahmed’s victory.

It is Ethiopia’s inheritance — built by the sweat of those who knew they would never see the stage.

Let us name them. Let us honor them. Let us not mistake the horse’s glamour for the ox’s grind.

Seyoum Mesfin’s legacy cannot be erased. His life was a plow. His words were seeds.

And today, as the turbines turn, we hear not just the roar of water, but the echo of those who dared to dream when no one else did.

Now that the dam stands complete—a testament to engineering excellence and national determination—their names were notably absent from the official inauguration ceremony. Regrettably, Seyoum Mesfin has received little to no recognition in the media. I choose to mention him because I am a firsthand witness to his pivotal contributions and lasting achievements.

GERD is more than a dam. It is a legacy. And legacies demand truth.

Let us feed the ox. Let us tell the story right.

Let us not honor those who arrived late to the field — but those who built it from dust.

Author’s Note: This article is a political metaphor. “OX”, and “Horse” are symbolic figures, not literal references to any ethnic or political group. The goal is to provoke thoughtful reflection, not incitement.