The Tequilanist Graduation Ceremony: Betrayal Brewed in a Macchiato Cup

In a country still grieving its sons and daughters, some people are throwing parties — not in memory of the martyrs, but in celebration of betrayal.

Getachew Reda, freshly rewarded by his master Abiy Ahmed with an advisory role in the Prime Minister’s office, has become the crown jewel of the Tequilanist circle — a group that sold resistance for recognition, traded pain for privilege, and swapped the voice of the people for the velvet of power. His new appointment is not a promotion; it is a payment — for dismantling the last threads of Tigrayan resistance, silencing the just cause, and suffocating the very spirit that held the region together during its darkest hours.

But perhaps more heartbreaking than Getachew’s descent into the palace of genociders is the orchestra of Macchiatonists — scavenger minds still lingering in Mekelle — clapping with the enthusiasm of loyalty gone cheap. These are not just bystanders. These are children of the struggle, grown on TPLF’s wartime rations, fed by the calloused hands of heroic peasants who gave up their last morsels to raise a free generation. And today, those same children sip imported macchiatos in Mekelle cafés, composing Facebook praises for a man who betrayed the womb that birthed him.

Some even flew with him to Addis — euphemistically the “cave of genociders” — where their allegiance now lies not with justice, not with martyrs, not with mothers still mourning, but with the tequila-flavored illusion of political acceptance. They smile next to the architects of Tigray’s suffering and post status updates as if history isn’t watching.

Let it be clear:

Power gained by trampling over the dead is not leadership.

Applause from Macchiatonists is not validation — it is betrayal echoed in an air-conditioned lounge.

And history, no matter how distorted today, will not forget the ones who sold our collective pain for a seat at a genocider’s table.

To those scavengers cheering from the sidelines — enjoy your espresso and exile from integrity.

Tigray doesn’t need more waiters at Abiy’s banquet.

It needs defenders of truth, dignity, and those who refuse to sip betrayal — no matter how well it’s brewed.