A seasoned scholar, a subtle poet, peerless moral hero: Tedla Bairu recalls Mengistu Lemma

This is the third in our series of posts to celebrate the life and times of Mengistu Lemma (1928-1988), an Ethiopian playwright, dramatist, poet and diplomat, who secured his reputation with plays, The Marriage of Unequals (1964) and The Mighty and the Lowly (1979) and poems such as Basha Ashebir in America. In this extract taken from the autobiography of Mengistu Lemma entitled Demamu Bi’iregna, posthumously published by Mega Publishing in 1996, Habteab Bairu, a long time friend of the author recalls Mengistu, his life and his work. This article was originally written in Amharic and being published here for the first time with an English translation.

The beginning of our friendship

I came to know Mengistu Lemma when we were both students at Kotebe, the former Haile Selassie Secondary School. Originally, I was from Asmara and on arriving in Addis Ababa in 1945, I enrolled at Akakai School, on the outskirts of the city. After six year’s stay there and on successfully passing the school exam, I was transferred to Kotebe, where I made Mengistu’s acquaintances. We were the first batch of the school to successfully complete the high school leaving certificate examination. The government made it known its plan of having us sit for matriculation with a view to sending the top form entrants overseas for further education. Only seven of us who were enrolled made it to 12^th grade, Mengistu Lemma, Belay Abay, Yohannes Mekonnen, Assefa Woldeghiorgis, kebede Woldeghiorgis, Abraham Demena and myself. Naturally, we developed a sense of camaraderie and close friendship, as the seven of us started to prepare ourselves to sit for the London matriculation test. As luck would have it, only Mengistu and I were able to attain the highest score in the test which was administered by the British Council.

When we were summoned by the British Council and told of our success in the exam and were entitled to a scholarship in the UK we, with youthful impetuosity, screamed: “We don’t want your scholarship. Our Emperor will find us a scholarship!”  Our defiance was not without grounds. During those times, a heated political struggle was going on to free Eritrea from the British protectorate.  The movement was spearheaded by my brother, Tedla Bairu, and his activism rubbed off on me. The resentment and resistance against the British was evident here in Addis Ababa.This was because the British, having supplanted the Italians after the occupation, had started to cast a covetous glance over Ethiopia. Such a development was sure to cause suspicion and resentment on the part of the people. The sense of resentment was particularly strong among us the educated for we were well aware of the Anglo-Ethiopian Agreement of 1944.

It was in this situation that my friendship with Mengistu developed. Both of us were consumed with a passionate sense of patriotism. We had accepted Haile Selassie’s government with absolute loyalty and unstinting devotion.

The Emperor treated the students of Kotebe and Teferi Mekonnen School (TMS) with favourable and particular partiality and thus he was able to win the devotion and loyalty of the students. He paid a visit to the school almost daily to inspect the teaching learning process. He also on occasion had lorries loaded with oranges and fruits brought to our school and distributed to each one of us, thus endearing us to him.

We were blissfully ignorant of politics, there was nothing to interfere with our undivided loyalty to the Monarch. We had not yet heard about Marxism and associated notions of class analysis. During Christmas and winter break, all students from various schools in the capital such as Menen, Wingate were taken to the Genet Leul Palace and brought before the Emperor to receive handouts of sweaters and biscuits.

As I mentioned earlier, we went to the UK for further education in 1948. As is well known, we Ethiopians have a high sense of patriotism. I don’t think it is wide of the mark to say that our nationalism attimes bordered on arrogance. So England for us was a land perpetually covered with snow and intolerable cold night, with not a blade of grass in sight. To brace himself for the chill of UK awaiting him, Mengistu asked his olderbrother to buy him overcoat or thick sweater but his brother couldn’t affordit. To our relief, the government bought all the clothing we needed and we madeour way fully dressed up. On our arrival to the UK, we enrolled at a schoolcalled Regent Polytechnic. Later, we joined London school of Economics. During our school days in London, Mengistu helped me to master Amharic. As I came from Asmara, my Amharic was poor and halting, and in interesting irony Mengistu helped me to increase my proficiency in Amharic in a foreign land, something I failed to do back home.

Too independent minded

On our return home, after the completion of our studies, Belay Abay and I in no time joined the swelling rank of young bureaucrats. But Mengistu being a radical and progressive, stepped to a different drummer. Once he rang a call and invited Belay and I for lunch. “Welelaw, what about a treat today? He called each of his friends Welelaw. We went to Castelli Restaurant, though expensive today was then affordable. While were enjoying the lunch, he told us about the tantalising offer made to him by Ato Mekonnen Habte Wold, a high ranking official in the Haile Selassie’s government. “The reason I called you is to ask your opinion on what course of action I should take with regards to the offer. Mekonen promised that I could take full charge of the Hager Fikir theatre, making free use of the stage, if I like, with whatever I choose to show. And a spacious flat, a car and attractive salary to boot. What do you think?”

It was a time when upward mobility was very much in the air in the capital with every civil servant, both the locals and returnees, setting their sights on the main chance in a rush to buy plot of land, vehicle and seeking preferment to raise their standard of living. Mengistu, however was not the type to hanker after such comforts. He didn’t let the excitement of such an offer carry him away, asking instead for our opinion. Plus Mekonnen Habtewold, was not one whose offer you would turn down lightly.

But Mengistu, having been won over by radical politics during our stay in London,did not care very much for the trappings of power and material comforts.Mengistu was well versed in Marxism. He told us that for all Mekonnen’s kind offer and promise, in truth he knew that the official had no intention of allowing him the freedom to stage his or other plays, his main goal being to make him a stooge in the service of the regime’s ideology. His salary then was meagre and he didn’t own a car.

A man of principle

But this didn’t make him succumb to the lure which came knocking on his door. He steadfastly held to his principles. I allow myself not an iota of doubt in bearing testimony to his moral courage and intellectual integrity, which had no match and was an example to all of us. Thus, he chose to end his days in rather reduced circumstance instead of accepting of mess of pottage and the prospect of the office of minister that came his way unbidden. Mengistu despised cheating, dishonesty and opportunism. He didn’t stand double dealing persons. A person who claimed to be progressive while belying his words by his deeds could neverbe Mengistu’s friend. Such a person was bound to be the target of his acerbic wit and sarcasm. On account of this, his relationship with many people was not very friendly. But it was not as if he was motivated by hatred. It was just that he detested dishonesty. Mengistu was a devoted friend. The key to win his friendship was being a truthful person. His life style could summed up in a phrase, ‘no frills’. He was averse to any form of materialism. When many of his friends drove Mercedes in the 1950s, he was content with a scooter then called lambretta.I have no hesitation in calling Mengistu a seasoned scholar and a subtle poet.His skill was not limited to poetry. He was also a fine playwright. I think his plays fall in the category of “theatre of ideas.” He followed along the lines of Bernard Shaw. The kind of plays that fall under rubric of theatre of ideasare those that raise lofty ideas aiming at instructing and inculcating values in the society, with a view to serving social purpose.

Mengistu was a person with a remarkable clarity of thought. While I served time in Derg prison for eight years, one of myprison mates was Teferi Bizuayeh, a cinematographer by profession, who had studied the art in Moscow for seven years. On one of those moments we spent our time reminiscing, he told me that he was indebted to Mengistu for saving hislife in the turbulent years of the revolution. I asked him to explain. He recounted that Senay Likke (a leader of the Ethiopian student movement in the United States and founderof the Wez League, a post-revolutionary political party that served Derg, pretending to be its intellectual wing.) who happened to be his relative, used to push him to join his party. I had then cultivated a close friendship with Mengistu and asked him for his opinion as to which party I should join. “Don’t let anyone lead you astray. Better safe than sorry.  Power is in the hands of military junta.Don’t be fooled by the promise of freedom. If you have to join a party, I advise you to join Seded.”

Mengistu’s literary craft was powerful from early on. Unfortunately, while his writing won him popular acclaim and affection, it inevitably led him into collision with those in power. Some of his writings actually were instrumental in bringing about changes for better. Most of us who were studying abroad were of theopinion that if we want to see our country developed, we had to adopt western ways wholesale and go the whole hog in copying the style of Europe. Mengistu, however, was opposed to such cultural aping. And we used to tease him, “Are you capable of appreciating the music of Beethoven and Mozart?” 

Mengistu, fed up with what he took to be shallow thinking, penned a poem entitled “Mugt” (Argument). He gave the handwritten poem to Sylvia Pankhurst for her to publish in New Times and Ethiopian News, which she did. This caused something of a stir, a wider impact than we could possibly anticipated.  We were not aware that the newspaper was dispatched to Ethiopia and found its way into the palace.

The Emperor felt the poem was written as an innuendo targeted against himself inparticular. The innocent lines written as witty rebuke to his wayward friendswere taken as reference to the habit of imitating western ways among the high officials in the court, particularly the practise of putting on what was calledmorning coat, a policy initially promoted by the likes of Blatten Geta Hiruy.

I later heard that palace people started putting on traditional outfit on publicholidays like New Year, all this because of the poem.

Mengistu was not just a man of letters. He had remarkable bent for handicraft. He made
himself wallets and leather jackets. Another skill of his that used to impress
me was his gift for painting. He made fine sketches. When he was with friends,
chatting with them, he used to do their sketches.

A solitary existence

During the end of his life, Mengistu was becoming sullen and solitary, keeping to himself. During the day, he taught classes at the university. He almost gave up meetingpeople. His lifestyle increasingly came to resemble that of monk.  Once when he disappeared for a stretch of time, I dropped by his place to enquire of his well being. What I discovered was something that I did not expect. His residence was a spacious old villa. As I entered the premise the ground was covered with by marshy grass you could hide yourself in. It looked a deserted place with not a soul around. It was a shockto me. I could hardly believe he choose to live in this way. I expressed my displeasure at such wanton disregard for his life. He responded firmly “You paid a visit just to disturb my peace,” I was not put off by his words. I had the labourers cut the grass. 

Mengistu was often misunderstood. People thought he was old school and arrogant. But he was not. In fact, on the contrary, he was liberal and progressive. He was free of any hint of bigotry. He was a man ahead of his times. Certainly, he passionately argued for cultural autonomy. I think what led to the misrepresentation of his passion for cultural autonomy.

In particular, I would like to single out a quality of his that struck me wheneverI thought of him. He was a proud man. Possibly this was something that he inherited from his father who was half- Gondarian. He was conscious of this. He was a dignified person. Even during meal times, he behaved with considerabledignity. It probably took him eight or nine seconds to put into his mouth the handful he picked from the plate.

The late Habteab was the brother of Tedla Bairu, Eritrea’s firstchief executive and leader of the Unionist Party, which demanded unity with Ethiopia, was one of the first students who went to study in Britain after the war, along with Menghestu Lemma, Afewerk Tekle, Mikael Imru, Zewde GebreSelassie, and many other prominent personalities.

Main Image: Mengistu Lemma receiving the Haile Selassie I Prize Trust Award from the Emperor in 1967.

Asfaw Damte recalls Mengitu Lemma

RememberingMengistu Lemma, Ethiopian Playwright and Social Reformer

This article is published under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International licence.
Please cite Ethiopia Observer prominently and link clearly to the
original article if you republish. If you have any queries, please
contact us at ethiopiaobserver@protonmail.com. Check individual images for licensing details.