“Tequilanist-in-Chief: How Getachew Reda’s Lies, Ego, and Opportunism Betrayed Tigray”

In a recent interview from the comfort of Dubai—far from the starving camps of displaced Tigrayans—Getachew Reda once again opened his well-polished mouth not for truth or justice, but to spit venomous white lies, distortions, and self-serving narratives that serve only one master: his mission to erase Tigray’s soul in exchange for political survival and personal luxury.

This is not just an interview. It’s a testament to betrayal wrapped in victimhood, coated with Tequilanism—the toxic ideology of selling out your people while toasting your own reflection in hotel mirrors.

1. “Peace” for the Press, Not for the People

Getachew parrots the usual line about the Pretoria Agreement as a “step towards peace.” But who is he fooling? While he praises this deal, Tigray bleeds. Tigrayan lands remain occupied, thousands are displaced, and the very forces who protected Tigray from annihilation—the TDF—are criminalized and sidelined.

If the Pretoria Agreement was a real path to peace, why was it signed in secret, with no input from Tigray’s people or its defenders? Why is Getachew the only one who “benefited” from it—jetting off to Addis, Dubai, and foreign studios while the mothers of Axum, Adwa, and Zalambessa bury their sons in silence?

2. The Myth of the “Outsider” and the Martyr Complex

In the interview, Getachew paints himself as an “outsider” in the TPLF—a reformer purged for his openness and love of dialogue. But the facts betray him.

He was not ousted for reaching across aisles; he was rejected for reaching into the enemy’s pocket. While he accuses others of clinging to power, it was he who clung to a presidential chair he was unfit to fill—refusing to hand it over even after a formal removal.

He claims he wasn't part of the armed struggle—but it wasn’t his civilian status that doomed him. It was his civilian cowardice. When bullets flew, Getachew fled. When Tigray cried, he smiled for cameras. When TDF sacrificed, he negotiated with their enemies. That's not diplomacy. That’s treachery in a suit.

3. Blame Shifting and Gaslighting 101

In textbook betrayal fashion, Getachew blames everyone else. His former comrades? Power hungry. TDF? Aggressors. Eritrea? Manipulative. Addis Ababa? Misunderstood partners. Himself? Just a humble peace-seeker.

But let’s speak truth to power:

• He vilifies TDF as though they weren’t the very shield that saved him and Tigray.

• He gaslights the public by claiming elections and IDP returns were his goals—but failed to lift a finger toward either during his tenure.

• He shifts responsibility for Eritrean occupation to others—yet calls Pretoria a success while it left Tigray open to enemy troops.

If Getachew were truly for peace, why did his administration recently discuss arming militias in Afar to fight the TDF? If he loved Tigray, why does he constantly demean its heroes and echo the talking points of those who waged genocide against it?

4. Secession Talk as a Smoke Bomb

Getachew teases the idea of secession—sounding bold, almost revolutionary—but it’s a distraction. He has never lifted a finger to build the institutions or morale needed for self-determination. He utters “secession” not as a solution but as a shield—to silence critics and confuse the youth.

True independence for Tigray isn’t built on interviews with foreign media. It’s forged through unity, sacrifice, and genuine leadership. Getachew has proven himself incapable of all three.

5. The Youth Card: A Final Insult

At the climax of his manipulative monologue, Getachew tries to present himself as a mentor to the youth—as if he’s preparing to pass the torch.

But to the youth of Tigray: beware a man who lights the torch with the flame of betrayal. He speaks of “letting go of the past,” but he is the past—the very past of cowardice, collaboration, and compromise that led Tigray to catastrophe.

Real youth empowerment doesn’t come from those who ran to Addis when war erupted, or who vacation in Dubai while IDPs starve. It comes from leaders who stayed, fought, and bled—from communities who rise without forgetting their wounds.

Conclusion: A Mouth That Never Closed, A Mission That Never Changed

Getachew Reda is not just a failed leader. He is a danger—a man who now seeks to turn Tigrayan against Tigrayan, weaken the unity of our defense, and rewrite history in favor of those who massacred us. His every word is a calculated dagger—not against Addis or Asmara—but against the spirit of Tigray.

The time has come to close the chapter on the Tequilanist betrayal. Tigray deserves leaders who speak less in studios and more in service. Leaders who drink from the cup of struggle, not tequila.

Let history remember this: Getachew Reda did not fall from power. He fell from grace.