Tigray’s Wounds Are Still Open: A Call to the International Community to End Complicity and Uphold Justice

Since the outbreak of war in November 2020, the people of Tigray have endured one of the gravest

humanitarian and political crises of the 21st century. What began as a military campaign swiftly

devolved into a genocidal onslaught, leaving thousands dead, millions displaced, and entire generations fractured. And while bullets may have paused, the suffering has not. The wounds are deep, and they are still bleeding—especially for the most vulnerable.

In Sudan, tens of thousands of Tigrayan refugees remain stranded in desolate camps. These people,

many of whom fled horrific atrocities, massacres, and systemic rape, are now languishing in a collapsing

Sudanese state. They are starving, unprotected, forgotten by the very international systems built to

shelter the displaced. They cannot return home—not because peace has come—but because justice and security have not.

Worse, the very architecture of Tigray’s suffering is being whitewashed in front of our eyes. Those who

betrayed the people of Tigray from within—those who silenced the truth, sabotaged resistance, and

enabled occupation—are now rewarded by the federal government. Getachew Reda, once the interim

president of Tigray, is now an advisor to Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed. His comrade Kindeya

Gebrehiwot, previously heading the so-called “social transformation” agenda, now serves in Ethiopia’s Ministry of Education. These are not signs of peace; they are symbols of betrayal institutionalized. And their celebration is a slap in the face of every mother who buried her son, every displaced elder denied return, and every child who now grows up in stateless limbo.

The international community—especially the United States—must face its own reckoning. In the early months of the war, the United States and others failed to act, choosing cautious diplomatic language over moral clarity. The crimes committed by Eritrean troops, and their internal Ethiopian allies, were not just witnessed—they were documented, known, and at times downplayed.

While innocent civilians in Axum, Adwa, Humera, and scores of other towns were being massacred, the world issued carefully worded statements like “ethnic cleansing is allegedly occurring.” This was not just diplomatic restraint; it was an act of complicity. It gave perpetrators time, cover, and the chilling

confidence to continue their campaign. The cries of the Irrob and Kunama minorities—targeted not just

by bullets, but by decades of cultural and geographic erasure—went unheard. Not even the Indigenous Word's 38th report (April 2024) mentioned them.

This silence is not neutral. It is destructive. When justice is delayed or denied, oppression finds roots.

And now, Ethiopia asks Tigray to disarm—to surrender the very force that protected its existence—

while vast areas of Tigrayan land remain under illegal occupation. Disarmament without repatriation is

submission. Demobilization without justice is betrayal. Reintegration without restoration is not peace—it is pacification.

The newly appointed interim administration in Tigray now holds a mandate to lead. But this leadership must not repeat the grave errors of its predecessor. It must not implement DDR (Disarmament, Demobilization, and Reintegration) before all displaced Tigrayans return home safely, and every inch of occupied Tigrayan land is restored. To proceed otherwise is to legitimize war crimes and normalize occupation.

We appeal now to the United Nations, the African Union, the European Union, and particularly the

United States government: There is still time to act, but the window is narrowing. This is no longer just about policy—it is about principle. The people of Tigray deserve what every human being is guaranteed by international law: safety, dignity, the right to return, and the right to truth.

Divine justice does not sleep. For those who rationalize betrayal behind titles, who twist education into propaganda, who profit from positions while their people suffer—there will be a moral cost. As one Tigrayan proverb warns us: “ትምህርቲ መሃይምነት እምበር ድንቁርና ኣየጥፍእን”

— Education may

defeat illiteracy, but not dullness. Let us not mistake credentials for conscience.

It is time to stand. For those in the camps, for those in unmarked graves, for those rebuilding under the

shadow of betrayal—your voice still matters. And the world must listen.