The Tongue That Betrayed the Womb

In the aftermath of the genocidal warfare unleashed on Tigray, few figures have stirred as much disillusionment and fury as Getachew Reda. Once hailed as a voice of resistance, he has now become, in the eyes of many, a symbol of betrayal. The man who once echoed the pain and pride of a besieged people now seems to have traded truth for favor, resistance for compromise, and justice for convenience.

     

Based on his last interviews with PP-controlled outlets like FANA and ETV, Getachew Reda has unveiled what appears to be his governing principle: "If you are under the betrayal or evil sphere, be the best of them." This chilling maxim reflects not just political maneuvering, but a moral detachment that shocks the conscience. He no longer hides behind ideological pretenses; he proclaims his readiness to outdo even the traitors and the wicked.

But perhaps the deepest wound is not rhetorical. It is maternal.

During the darkest days of the genocidal war, it was the mothers of Tigray—those who buried their children to hide them from drones, who sold their last possessions to feed resistance fighters, who walked barefoot with newborns through mountains to escape rape and bombing—who carried the nation’s soul. One mother reportedly buried her own son alive to prevent his capture, only for him to rise again later and fight with the TDF. These mothers were the silent fortresses of the nation. And one of them—so it is known—sheltered and protected Getachew Reda himself.

Yet, now, in the safety of his power, he has abandoned them. While mothers, fathers, daughters, and sons rot in IDP camps across Tigray and refugee camps in Sudan—forgotten, hungry, raped, and broken—Getachew makes televised appearances defending deals made with genocidaires. The very war criminals captured by the TDF in the survival battles of Tembien, Afar, and beyond have been rebranded as partners in peace under Getachew's watch.

Even sacred figures—nuns, priests, elderly women raped in churches and convents—have not been spared the betrayal. These were not just collateral damage. These were the spiritual heart of Tigray, desecrated while Getachew and his PP-breastfed allies prepared a political comeback. His silence on their suffering has been louder than his speeches.

To many, Getachew Reda is no longer a son of Tigray. He is an unpunished mouth, a self-cleansing tongue, swallowing and regurgitating whatever narrative suits his survival. He has made a career of vomiting what he once swallowed, without shame or reckoning.

History may forget many names. But the mothers of Tigray will not forget his. Not for what he said, but for what he refused to say. Not for who he fought, but for whom he spared. Not for where he stood, but for whom he abandoned.

The wombs that birthed a nation now weep for the tongue that betrayed them.