My Mother's Spirit

I am lucky to have two mothers, Mulu Tariku who gave me life, and Terunesh Engeda who made me who I am.

My very first memory was when my birth mother bought me a pair of new shoes. I was 3 years old, and I remember they were leather shoes with pockets! That year, my birth mother left Ethiopia for Sudan as a refugee. Young, energetic, and beautiful, she left to search for a life free of the violence and sadness that Ethiopia endured during the Derg time. It would be 16 years later until I saw her again. It was a loving reunion and we have built our lives together since then.

When she left the country, my birth mother wanted to bring me with her. But my uncle’s wife Terunesh pleaded with her, “I love Melaku. He’s my child. Let me adopt him.” She would become my mother, my everything.

My mother was much older than my birth mother. I loved her bright, spirited smile. Having tried five times to give birth without success, she showered me with all of her motherly love. She protected me not only from the elements, but also from society’s cruelty towards an orphaned child. Some people in the village kicked me around because they knew I had no parents. During my school years, I took care of the family cows every morning. Although I loved our cows and the fresh milk they gave me, at school I was shunned by my classmates because, well, I smelled like the barn. I felt sad when other children brought their parents to school for events. My mother always taught me to have confidence in myself, “Melaku, I am getting older and will not live to see it, but your future will be very bright. You will accomplish big dreams.”

She had a way of saying things so that they would go deep inside me and stay there. She was a philosopher, a meditator, and a fighter, all at once. She was the one who made me who I am today. She taught me about generosity, courage, honesty, and confidence. She taught me to respect other people and to have patience. When people disappointed me, she showed me how to forgive. She helped me see that I am equal to all others, no more, no less. I am human. I am myself.

In the last 11 years of her life, my mother was sick and bedridden, but her presence remained powerful and guided me throughout my youth. She passed away when I turned 18. When that happened, I lost my home and lived on the street for 6 months. I was lonely, I was hungry, and I was homeless, but I was never afraid, because my mother’s spirit was with me.

When I lived on the street, I held on to my mother’s teaching to love people, not things. I had no regrets about my life on the street. Because of my mother, I don’t care about becoming rich in a material way. I am rich inside already. Because of my mother, I love my country and my people even though they might disappoint me. I don’t know where I’ll go in the future, but I always know where I came from. My future is open and has no borders, but my roots are in Ethiopia, a land of spirituality.

My mother raised me in Addis Ababa, but she came from the countryside of Gojam, the northern highland of Ethiopia. She is religious in the tradition of Orthodox Christianity. In their faith, they pray not just for themselves, but for the entire humanity, planet, and Universe. She was born into and nourished by that kind of energy. When you meet people like her, you’ll understand why I say Ethiopia is a sacred land. You’ll understand why their spirits are not to be defeated.

The land and people of Ethiopia have given me big Love, much bigger than myself. I learned about the world through the rich folklore, rituals, music and dance of Ethiopia. I am happy to share the love and the learning.

When I started traveling outside Ethiopia for dance, I began to understand my mother and her love even better. I got to see how “developed” the world was, but then I realized how precious my mother’s love is. The love that she gave me is much more enduring than any modern technologies. Mobile phones and computers change models and brands, but my mother’s spirit stays the same, strong and sacred. It never changes. It is inside of me. It is all around me. It gives me the strength to raise my own children today: Esuyawkall, Mikael, and Abysemak, and to take care of Fendika and my community. My mother’s spirit lives on, through my children, through Fendika, through community.  

My school ID photo in 8th grade, around the time when my mother Terunesh Engeda passed away.