Ethiopia with ATF: Ayelech's Journey

Hope Despite Hardships

A Journey through the Life of an Ethiopian Woman

Written by Cody Huisken

“Listen, my dear brothers and sisters: Has not God chosen those who are poor in the eyes of the world to be rich in faith and to inherit the kingdom He promised to those who love Him?” – James 1:5

In January, I was blessed with an opportunity to spend a month in Africa, volunteering my time for Adams Thermal Foundation (ATF) in Ethiopia. I spent my days working with leaders of schools, visiting entrepreneurship programs benefiting from microloans, and getting to know people within the communities impacted by ATF. The impacted people and the power of their testimonies will not soon be forgotten. While their stories are too numerous to tell them all, I would like to share with you the story of a family who has been blessed by ATF and their child sponsorship program.

Abreham is a ten-year-old student at Adams Thermal Academy in Hosanna, Ethiopia. I met him for the first time at the Academy, where he gladly jumped in the Land Rover and proceeded to give the driver turn-by-turn directions to his home. As the destination approached, the boy grew silent, giving his final direction without words by simply pointing his small finger in the direction of his humble home. We had arrived. Together, we exited the vehicle and entered the dwelling. Once inside, Abreham disappeared for a moment into a second room, which gave me a minute to keenly observe the makeup of the house. The home had two small, simple rooms. The walls were made of mud with branches acting as trusses supporting a roof of sheet metal. The house was dark and empty. A single lightbulb hung from the doorway connecting the two rooms, providing just enough light to observe a few pieces of furniture in the house: a small wooden bench, a few wooden stumps being used as chairs, and a 4x8 piece of plywood covered by a few blankets, which they call a bed. All the furniture rested on a dirt floor without carpet or rugs. Plumbing of any kind was nonexistent. Any water in the house was stored in jars of clay. As far as the waste facilities go, I believe that’s what the tree next to the house was for.

Abreham returned from the other room with his family in tow. He lives with his mother and three younger siblings, ages 8, 6, and 2. The mother introduced her children first: Alazar, her youngest, was not yet in school. Yosef, Marta, and Abreham were her three oldest, all attending the Adams Thermal Academy because of their sponsors. The children were in first, third, and fifth grade, respectively. After speaking about her children, the mother finally introduced herself: Ayelech Haydebo. Ayelech was a beautiful woman, likely only in her upper twenties. Her beauty came from her eyes, which she kept hidden as much as possible. However, the moments when she would glance up from the floor, it was evident that those eyes had seen much pain, yet the look of pain was coupled with a glimmer of hope and strength. As she finished introductions, I proceeded with my own, explaining who I was and what I was doing there. Then, I opened up the floor, inviting her to share her story.

My invitation was met with silence. I watched intensely as the mother's facial expressions attempted to hide the pain of her memories as she recalled the episodes of her past. Minutes passed. With each passing second her pain became increasingly evident, until finally, the silence was broken. Ayelech’s trembling voice was barely audible as she asked her children leave the room. Giving me a glimpse of her personal history was hard enough, but to do so with her children in earshot would have been unbearable.

As a young teenager, Ayelach had many responsibilities to her family. Helping her mother with cooking and laundry, assisting her father with the crops in the garden, and gathering water for her siblings all constituted normal chores for a child growing up in rural Ethiopia. It was a typical morning, tasked with gathering water from the mountain stream, located just over an hour’s walk away, when her life changed forever. As she was approaching the water, a group of men approached. Fearful, she released her canteens used for carrying water, and began to run from the men. Fleeing proved to be futile as the men followed and captured her, carrying her away. Ayelach’s head was spinning, dreading whatever the men had planned for her. What was their plan? Was she to be raped? Tortured? Sacrificed in a pagan worship ritual? Would she ever see her family again? Overwhelmed, she fainted.

Ayelach was awakened when the men had reached their destination: a remote village, nearly a day’s walk from her home town. A crowd was gathered in the public square for what appeared to be a wedding ceremony, although she wasn’t completely sure because the bridal party was not in sight. Soon after, all the questions running through her head disappeared because she knew the answer. It was a wedding ceremony outside, her wedding ceremony. Running away wasn’t an option; she’d already tried that. To resist or refuse was equally useless, as she would be overcome, punished, or worse. With no way out, and unimaginable consequences if she fought back, she was hopelessly trapped. Her only choice was survival, which meant surrendering and submitting herself to her husband, who she hadn’t even met yet. Only a few short hours after she had gotten her bridal clothes on, it was time to take them off for the stranger she now called her husband. When the deed was done and she thought the day was finally over, things got worse. Her husband forced himself on her once more, this time with a knife in his hand. Her husband proceeded to cut her vagina, leaving permanent cuts, damage, and pain to her genitals. This female genital mutilation was an act of power for her husband, controlling Ayelach through pain to ensure that she never slept with another man. She was at her husband’s mercy, who could force himself upon her at will, leaving her writhing in pain.

Ayelech was trapped inside her own life, which was now owned and controlled by her husband. There was no escape. If she divorced him, the community would disown her for dishonoring her husband. If she physically assaulted him, she would be found guilty in a court of law and her punishment would be worse than her current situation. If she fled to her parents, she would be returned. Her husband had sent well-respected elders of the community to pay a bridewealth, or bride price, to her parents. This payment validated the marriage in her family’s eyes, leaving her with only one choice: submission.

Not long after the wedding, Ayelech became pregnant and gave birth to her firstborn, Abreham. As her family began to grow in size, her husband made the choice to relocate to the city of Hosanna, where he became a general laborer. As her husband would pick up job contracts for the day, Ayelech would balance her motherly duties with an attempt to earn wages by cooking or cleaning laundry for anybody who would pay her. The work was enough for the growing family, even as Ayelech’s ability to work decreased as her family grew coupled with other circumstances. When Ayelech was pregnant with her fourth child, her husband got hired for the day as a construction laborer. While working on a ladder, her husband fell, severely injuring himself to the point of bedrest. Weeks of bedrest hurt the family’s financial situation, but the knockout blow came when her husband failed to get better and admitted himself to the hospital, where he died soon after. Within days of her husband’s death, Ayelech gave birth to her youngest child, Alazar.

Ayelech, left to raise four fatherless children, was broke. Hope seemed obscure as her husband still managed to place limitations on her as he infected her with the H.I.V. virus before he died. The virus puts Ayelech on bedrest for weeks at a time. Her symptoms include fever, chills, night sweats, nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, chronic fatigue, rashes, breathing problems, and more. Ayelech continues to struggle to earn wages due to her physical incapacity coupled with the community avoiding HIV victims like Biblical lepers. Occasionally, she lands a job doing a neighbor’s laundry. Other times, a family will have compassion on her and donate loose change or a loaf of bread. When her symptoms are severe, weeks can pass before she is able to put food on the table for her family again. Her children survive because of their child sponsors and ATF. The sponsorship pays for her children to attend Adams Thermal Academy, which provides daily lunches to their students. Often, these are the only meals her older children will get. She continues to nourish her youngest child with breastmilk.

As Ayelech finished telling her story, there was another time of silence. I was speechless. How does one respond to such a devastating story? Then, I noticed her facial complexion change once more. Her face seemed to exude hope, as if the pain was no longer being suppressed and hidden, but rather was melting away before my very eyes. It was Ayelech who broke the silence, expressing her newfound joy. Having seen ATF’s Christian values, Ayelech has come to know Jesus Christ and has an active relationship with Him. When she reflects on her life, she recalls how, despite her hardships, God was there with her, keeping her alive. She often wondered what her purpose was in life. Now, Ayelech dedicates her energy to encouraging her children to grow in the faith and is at peace knowing that they have a bright future ahead. She praises God for His provision and holds tight to His promises, especially the promise of Jeremiah 29:11-13. She is eternally grateful not only for her own salvation, but that she can now rest knowing that her children have an everlasting Father guiding them who is far greater than any earthly father could ever be.

Unfortunately, Ayelech isn’t the only woman with a story of this sort. Female genital mutilation (FGM) and telefa, the practice of marriage through kidnapping, are both common practices in many rural areas across Africa. Efforts are being made to end these abusive practices, which are both currently illegal in Ethiopia. Thankfully, God is alive and active in our fallen and sinful world. He loves all His children, and has a special place in His heart for the poor and “the least of these.” ATF exists to be used by God, responding to His call to serve the poor and oppressed. ATF desires to be His hands and His feet, with a primary mission to bring glory to Jesus through actions and in truth. To Jesus Christ, our Lord and Savior, be the glory both now and forever! Amen!