When I left a few weeks ago, I noticed that some things hadn’t changed in Addis Ababa: old cars still spewed diesel fumes, the traffic was as bad as ever, and the jams were unbelievably long. The traffic was so bad that I often wished I had just walked instead of using Ride and Feres, the local Uber-like services.
Otherwise, I barely recognized much of the city. Significant demolition and construction are everywhere. Saying Addis Ababa is being transformed is an understatement. Old Addis is being torn down to make way for new construction. Entire neighborhoods are enveloped in dust from large-scale demolitions. The city center is changing dramatically, with thousands of small businesses and historic buildings in the Piazza area being wiped out. Thousands of residential buildings are being replaced with tall structures and glittering malls.
The government terms it the Corridor Development Project, affecting all parts, notably Arat Kilo to Piazza, Meskel Square to Bole Airport, Kebena to Megengna, and Mexico Square to Sar Bet. The authorities’ main objective is to demolish buildings to widen roads, establish bicycle lanes, create pedestrian walkways, and green spaces. They believe this project will transform Addis Ababa’s central district into the country’s financial, commercial, and cultural hub.
Excavators and bulldozers work through the night to meet the project deadline. Many admire the rapid pace of construction and the ability to work around the clock. Residents who previously lived in Piazza and Arat Kilo have reportedly relocated to new condominium buildings that have sprouted like stucco mushrooms on the outskirts of Addis Ababa. Some low-income residents are pleased to move into these condominiums from their old, dilapidated houses.
The costly vision of wide boulevards and gleaming skyscrapers has its critics. Many argue that the authorities’ crackdown on the city center often occurs without sufficient measures to relocate or compensate residents for their property losses. Thousands are displaced, communities are disrupted, and the city’s historical character is eroded, they lament. The jewelry shops, coffee shops, patisseries, and various specialty shops in Piazza, once landmarks of the city, have disappeared.”It is not a natural change. It’s very deliberate and planned,” an architect says. “These policies have specific values behind them that favor those who are already better off.”
On a positive note, the project has revealed the true character of the area through the demolition of illegally constructed fences and structures. Some say that the Corridor project has successfully removed illegal constructions. “As a result, the corridor construction project has not only enhanced the city’s beauty but also brought to light the pervasive issue of illegal occupation that has been troubling it,” a hotel owner in Kazanchis area said.
“This is Abiy’s dream of a 21st-century capital where he becomes a king,” a friend said, showing me Abiy’s future sprawling residence on the Yeka Hills, overlooking Addis Ababa while we sat on a café terrace. In addition to the palace, the 503-hectare complex is said to include luxury villas, guesthouses for visitors, ministerial residences, a zoo, high-end housing blocks, and three artificial lakes lined with palm trees. Another friend’s comment ignited a spirited debate among us: “A leader who constructs his palace on a hill is a coward. He is afraid of being attacked.” In response, one friend pointed out that throughout history, situating palaces on hills was often a strategic decision to improve defense and surveillance capabilities, such choices were practical rather than indicative of cowardice.
Since 2018, Abiy Ahmed has embarked on ambitious and costly projects to enhance the capital. These initiatives include the modernization of Meskel Square, the transformation of Emperor Haile Selassie’s palace into a museum, the opening of the Adwa Zero Kilometer Museum in Piazza, and the establishment of numerous parks, libraries, and museums.
When walking through the city center at night, you’ll see it lit up by numerous neon signs and lights. Avenues like Arat Kilo and Piazza are adorned with flashy Dubai-style street lamps and bright lights. Some argue that all this artificial lighting is “a waste of energy,” especially given the city’s frequent power outages.
In a surprising move reflecting Addis Ababa’s evolving brand, mature palm trees have been planted across several areas from Meskel Square to Bole and from Mexico to Sar Bet. However, it’s uncertain how many will thrive in Addis Ababa’s climate. These trees, usually thriving in tropical regions, have intrigued locals. City authorities are testing if they can adapt to Addis Ababa’s mountainous climate and have even decorated them with lights. Unfortunately, a few months later, some are struggling, showing they may not survive in this environment.
For those who’ve been watching Addis Ababa change over the last decade, these losses don’t seem like the city’s natural growth. Addis Ababa has always been a dynamic city, despite its many flaws, continually changing and reinventing itself. But these recent changes raise questions: Are business elites and politicians teaming up to make big profits and enrich developers by wiping out thousands of small businesses and entire neighborhoods? While the government might view it as the city rising and reinventing itself, it evokes nostalgia among the city’s residents and those living abroad who recognize that the city they knew is vanishing.
