When Voices Turn Against Their Own Echo: Ethioforum’s Shift and the Unspoken Weight of Betrayal

There was a time when Ethioforum, through the voice of Yayasew Shimelis, stood among the few platforms that dared to speak truth during the darkest hours of the Tigray genocide. In the midst of blackout, bloodshed, and silence from the international community, Yayasew gave voice to stories that would have otherwise gone unheard. For that, we—the people of Tigray—recognized and valued his courage. We still do.

But how painful it is when a voice that once stood for justice becomes an echo of propaganda. How disheartening it is to see a platform that once dared to speak for the voiceless now serve as a channel for distortion, selectively sourced from the very circles that sought to erase Tigray from the map. Recently, Ethioforum’s portrayal of the TPLF as a stagnant and collapsing force, supposedly backed by whispers from the Tequilanist camp and elements aligned with Abiy Ahmed’s machinery, isn’t just a miscalculation—it’s a grave moral misstep.

Here’s the truth: attacking TPLF in this moment of unfinished struggle is not simply political analysis. It is an assault on the memory of thousands who perished defending Tigray’s existence. It is a blow to the dignity of mothers still searching for their sons. It is a slap in the face to those who still languish in displacement camps in Sudan, or hunger-stricken villages in Western Tigray.

Ethioforum may say it’s holding leaders accountable. But true accountability must be rooted in justice and balance—not in serving the narratives of genociders and betrayers. A temporary political drift should not blind one from the truth: TPLF, with all its flaws, stood between Tigray and annihilation. It is not perfect. But it is ours. And when external voices attempt to delegitimize it with such dangerous generalizations, they risk delegitimizing the people themselves.

Let us be clear—we do not reject critique. We do not silence dissent. But we recognize when a former ally’s voice begins to serve the very machine we once stood together against. We mourn not just what is being said—but who is saying it.

To Yayasew: we remember the times you stood tall. We thank you for the moments you amplified our pain to the world. But today, we must say—do not let your voice become the music of our oppressors. Do not trade truth for access, nor justice for a trending narrative. The people of Tigray are watching, not in anger, but in deep disappointment.

Tigray will rise—not because it is unchallenged, but because it is unbreakable. Those who stand with the truth, even when it is unpopular, will rise with it. Those who walk away may still be remembered—but history will ask them: “When the people needed you most, where did your voice go?”