Ethiopia's Ashenda Festival in Tigray Cancelled Over Drone Strike Fears

The streets of Mekelle would normally be filling with the sound of laughter, song, and the rustle of fine white dresses this week. Young women would be braiding their hair in intricate patterns, preparing for the three-day celebration of Ashenda, a cherished festival honouring the Virgin Mary and the spirit of womanhood. Instead, an uneasy quiet hangs over the Tigrayan capital as the main stadium gathering has been called off following a series of deadly drone strikes that regional authorities attribute to the federal armed forces.

Ashenda Festival Cancelled Amid Drone Strike Fears

Mekelle, Ethiopia — Article continues...

A Celebration of Women and the Virgin Mary

Ashenda is a festival deeply woven into the fabric of life in Tigray and other parts of northern Ethiopia. Its name, derived from the Tigrinya language, means "the tall green grass," a reference to the riverbank reeds that young women traditionally gather and wear as part of the festivities. The timing is significant: Ashenda takes place as Orthodox Christians commemorate the Virgin Mary, a figure of profound devotion across Ethiopia and Africa.

To grasp what has been lost, understand the sensory richness of Ashenda. For weeks beforehand, the markets of Mekelle and towns across Tigray buzz with energy as families pool resources to buy fine white cotton, often hand-woven and embroidered with colourful crosses that speak to the region's deep Orthodox Christian heritage. Young women spend hours braiding their hair in intricate patterns passed down through generations, in a communal ritual of sisters, mothers and friends helping one another.

For girls and young women, Ashenda is a rare and precious time of freedom. In a society where they are often expected to be modest and reserved, the festival grants them a sanctioned space for joy. For three days, they are not just permitted but encouraged to be loud, playful and visible — dancing in large groups, singing call-and-response songs, and playing traditional games in the open air. It is a powerful assertion of feminine presence in the public sphere.

The Sacred Feminine and Marian Devotion

The timing of Ashenda is no accident; it is intrinsically linked to the Orthodox Christian calendar and the commemoration of the Virgin Mary, known as Kidus Mariam in Ge'ez and Amharic. In Ethiopian and Eritrean Orthodox tradition, Mary holds a place of unparalleled veneration — the ultimate intercessor, a mother to all, a symbol of purity and strength. The festival is, at its heart, a thanksgiving to her and a celebration of the feminine divine she embodies.

This deep Marian devotion is not unique to the Horn of Africa; it is a thread that runs through the entire tapestry of African Christianity. In Senegal, where I am based, the Catholic community holds the Virgin Mary in similarly high esteem. The grand Assumption celebrations in August at places like Popenguine draw tens of thousands of faithful who dress in their finest white attire, in an atmosphere of profound faith mixed with communal celebration. The veneration of Mary across the continent — whether in the highlands of Ethiopia or the coast of West Africa — speaks to a shared belief in a powerful, maternal figure who watches over her children. The cancellation of Ashenda, therefore, is not just a cultural loss for Tigray; it is a blow to a broader continental tradition of honouring the sacred feminine through public worship.

Deadly Strikes and Rising Tensions

The immediate cause for the cancellation is a series of recent drone attacks. The latest strike hit Mekelle on Thursday, injuring 13 civilians and damaging homes, according to Tigray's communications affairs bureau. The regional administration has been vocal in its condemnation, calling the attack on innocent citizens an act that "history will not forgive."

Regional officials have also reported two drone strikes near Dandera, a town approximately 15km (nine miles) from Mekelle, on 18 August. Those strikes, they say, resulted in one death and one injury. Additionally, a strike in the Raya-Alamata district on 10 August was reported to have left three people dead. These casualty figures come directly from Tigray regional officials. The federal government has not responded to the BBC's request for comment on these specific accusations, and it is important to note that these claims have not been independently verified.

Announcing the cancellation of Saturday's stadium gathering, Dori Asgedom, head of Tigray's culture and tourism bureau, said the event would not be going ahead because of "ongoing drone strikes and the threat of war." "The drone attack on innocent citizens in Mekelle city is an act that history will not forgive and should be condemned," he added.

The Fragile Peace of 2022

To understand the gravity of the situation, one must look back to the conflict that preceded it. In November 2022, the Tigray People's Liberation Front (TPLF) and the federal government signed a peace deal in Pretoria, South Africa, ending two years of brutal civil war. The conflict left hundreds of thousands dead, displaced millions more and reduced much of Tigray to rubble.

The peace deal was hailed as a new beginning. It established an interim regional administration and promised disarmament, the restoration of services and accountability for atrocities. For a time, there was hope. But the peace has proven fragile, and political tensions this year have raised serious fears that the conflict could reignite.

The current crisis has been exacerbated by political manoeuvring. The TPLF has removed the interim administration set up under the terms of the peace deal and reinstated its pre-war council — a move met with alarm by the federal government. Both sides now accuse each other of failing to implement the agreement, from the delivery of humanitarian aid to promised accountability and reconciliation. This mutual recrimination has created a dangerous vacuum of trust.

International observers are increasingly alarmed because the dynamics of this new crisis mirror the early stages of the 2020 conflict: the language of accusation, the mobilisation of troops, and the use of drone strikes. Without urgent diplomatic intervention, the region could slide back into a full-scale war — one even more devastating given the weakened state of the population and the deep-seated grievances that remain unresolved.

A Call for International Action

After Thursday's attack on Mekelle, the Tigray regional administration issued a desperate plea, calling for the "international community to break their silence" and condemn what has happened. They are urging foreign governments and international bodies to take "urgent diplomatic action to prevent further escalation."

This appeal reflects a deep sense of abandonment. Many in Tigray feel the world looked away during the worst of the war and is looking away again as the spectre of violence returns. The silence they speak of is not just diplomatic; it allows for the slow erosion of hope. The call is for the world to remember the promises of 2022 and hold both parties accountable.

The Cultural and Economic Cost of Conflict

The economic cost is significant, though secondary to the immediate threat of violence. Ashenda is a major economic driver for Mekelle and the surrounding towns: the festival attracts visitors from across the region and the diaspora, filling hotels, restaurants and markets, while tailors and cloth merchants rely on the weeks leading up to it for a substantial portion of their annual income. The cancellation means lost revenue for countless small businesses at a time when the region's economy is already in tatters.

Across Africa, festivals that honour women and the divine feminine are common, from the colourful Dipo ceremonies of Ghana's Krobo people to the vibrant Umhlanga Reed Dance in Eswatini. These events are not just entertainment; they are vital expressions of cultural identity and spiritual devotion that connect generations. In Senegal, where I am from, we understand the profound importance of such gatherings — religious pilgrimages and cultural festivals alike — that bring entire villages together in a shared expression of joy and faith.

The cancellation of Ashenda is therefore a loss that resonates far beyond Tigray. War does not only destroy infrastructure and claim lives; it also erodes the cultural fabric that holds a society together. When a community cannot safely gather to celebrate its traditions, a part of its soul is diminished.

The young women of Mekelle, who had prepared their dresses and practised their songs, will not be dancing in the stadium this Saturday. Instead, they will be staying home, looking at the sky with apprehension. The tall green grass that gives the festival its name will remain uncut by the riverbanks. The joy of Ashenda has been silenced by the threat of drones, and with it, a little more of Tigray's hope has been dimmed.

The world watches, and the people of Tigray wait, hoping the international community will heed their call before the fragile peace of 2022 is shattered. The cancellation of a festival is a quiet but powerful warning that all is not well in the highlands of northern Ethiopia.

This article was produced with AI-assisted research and editorial support. Sources: BBC Africa.

By Amara Diop, Staff Writer