Red Lights and Beating Drums

“The drums, they are summoning you in” Saba warns me as the beat entices me to see what lay behind the curtained doors. It’s the Amhara drum that’s playing and it plays fast and it plays loud. Amhara region is the second largest region in Ethiopia.


It’s home to 21 million of the most beautiful people in the world. These people are the holders of the national language and a deep culture that reaches back into biblical times. 80% of the people in Amhara are Orthodox while only 17% are Muslim born again or Protestant 0.02%.  Orthodoxy has granted many men the right to marry young girls even less than ten years old for far too long, yet apparently that culture is changing. Without knowing all of the facts and figures, we know that partly due to this, we find 70% of prostituted women around the country are from the Amhara region.




It’s a Thursday night and six of us, two of the new staff for the Bahir Dar EWAR project, Mesfin (who is helping to get this whole project started as part of his outreach project with E3) and the three of us from Addis Ababa and Debre Zeit, scale the streets of the city to see the context of prostitution in Bahir Dar...at least in the case of the women EWAR will be working with over the next year.

The women cleaning up what will be their temporary project site

“The women” are the twelve we met with today. Some of these women had been approached more than a year ago by an Evangelist called Solomon who works for a local Kale Hiwot (meaning “Word of Life”) Church. While they have waited for a year for this project to get started, other ladies have since been approached and took the chance for change by coming to our drop in sessions yesterday. Here they shared their stories, what they would do once their hope was renewed and what they have in their hands to make it happen.




One lady, not much younger than I, spoke of how she had looked up to the prostituted women who worked in her neighborhood as a little girl. Orphaned and alone, she started working the street in her teens, falling pregnant and being left alone again, she kept working. For seventeen or more years….she kept working…to provide for her two children and to survive. Her desire was to be beautiful like the women she saw, all dressed up and made up. Her beautiful skin that glowed over her defined cheek bones hid her wounded heart. She has had enough now. Her youngest son is now ten and she wants better for him.

Mesfin (from e3) and Saba from Ellilta Women at Risk on the shores of Lake Tana

So we walked down the streets that these women have worked for so long. These streets are dark and they are unpaved. They’re narrow and cold and they beg for me to look down so I don’t trip up, rather than look up to see what we were really there for.  I almost wish I didn’t look up.




Red lights illuminate the muddy urine smelling paths. The men who urinate on these roads are only down here for one purpose. It’s not a thoroughfare, but rather a well designed lure for men wanting an irresponsible encounter to appease their sexual appetite. And the girls are there just waiting.




Unlike I have ever seen before, or expected to see, these girls have their OWN room. Their rooms are decorated with flashing lights and enticing bed dressings. Plastic weaving covers the mud walls and TVs blare to keep the girls occupied while they wait. The atmosphere feels so alone and so commercial.




Gorgeous Ethiopian girls (and I mean most of them ARE just girls in their teens) who grow up in a culture where life is all about community and communal living, about sharing rooms and plates and hearts, stand idle by themselves at the doors of their own little room. One girl sat looking out from on her bed that tonight she will service many men from (so she hopes) and her loneliness is tangible. My heart breaks for her and the many girls who stand alone in their red rooms and tears start to flow unexpectedly down my face. The sadness of the situation, the desperation that has caused them to give themselves away like this, causes our hearts to sink. I am not alone in this heart break.




After pulling myself together and taking a quick bathroom break, we round the corner and see these men. They’re lining the walls and seats of a local bar, preparing themselves for the night which has barely just begun at 8pm. They’re quiet and they’re rowdy, inviting us to ‘DRINK!’ They won’t stay long before all these brothels we saw with open doors and waiting girls are occupied by them.




This bar is situated on a street where a broker, known to traffic these women in from the rural areas, operates his business. Some of the women, according to Mesfin our guide, are sent to be house workers, others stay here in what is the capital of the Amhara region and work the bars, while others are trafficked into the Middle East. Others are trafficked into bordering countries North of Ethiopia and not too far from this city’s borders. Promises of a better life and better income beguile many young girls to leave their familiar to support their families. She’s not just thinking of herself but of her family and she will pay a high price for it.






The ladies who are about to enter the program tell us how much they get paid. Sometimes they will be paid as little as 10 birr (50c US) per trick, sometimes the man will take her out for a meal as his payment and sometimes the payment she gets is a beating- a night of abuse for the giving of her body. They get away with nothing if the man is so obtuse that he won’t even pay for her service. Unlike her, he’s just looking out for himself and doesn’t even want to pay for it.


Women at risk are only able to open new projects like these as local people take up the challenge and other people partner financially with the cause. If you would like to support Ellilta Women at Risks work, please go to www.ellilta.org and donate so you can play a part in empowering these women to be all that they were created to be.