There were famous “hot spots”, to borrow from cyber vocabulary, around Addis Ababa that were famous for their attraction to book warms. If memory does not fail me, the famous “Tea Room” is one of them. It was a place of gathering for the intellectuals and “book mongers” who used to frequent that particular spot on the edge of Piazza. People went there not really for its quality of tea or coffee as for its strategic location as a vantage point of visibility and display of their love for books or their passion for book reading.
Most of the regulars at “Tea Room” were middle-aged university lecturers or high government employees. They differed from the riffraff as well as university students who were fond of discussing revolutionary topics and palace scandals or marvel at the sight of the prettiest high school girl walking past the university campus.
It was the time when the best and brightest writers edited the then popular, “Mirror” and “Addis Reporter”, an English-magazine that was the equivalent of The New Yorker in the United States. Arat Kilo area at that time was supposed to be the meeting point of intellectuals with political affiliation of every hue and shape, ranging from the extreme Leftists to monarchists and everything in between. Youngsters with huge Afro haircuts, bell-bottomed trousers, easygoing manners and jaunty laughter, took their cheerful sweethearts to the movies in Piazza where a single ticket cost 50 cents or one birr.
They usually went to go to the famous Gebretensay Pastry nearby or to “Baklaba Bet” to enjoy the cakes and cappuccinos before they went into the cinema halls to see Clark Gable in “Gone with the Wind” or John Wayne in “The Alamo”. Indian movies were popular at that time and you could see some of the famous ones like, “Waqt”, “Love in Tokyo” and other romantic performances that might look weird or innocent now but were the talks of the town at that time.
What was remarkable at about time was that at least one movie addict had a newspaper or magazine or a book in their hand whenever they travel in the city. It was usual to read something until the shows started. You could see people reading, even in crowded buses and taxis that they called “Wuyiyit”. You saw people reading newspapers on the verandahs of tee shops, bars or restaurants. You could meet people reading magazines in barber shops and waiting in the queues at supermarkets.
The most famous reader of the time around the Arat Kilo area and Berhanena Selam printing press, was a journalist and author who was so obsessed with reading that he read even while peeing at a street corners. I better withhold his name as a sign of respect for his healthy or legendary obsession. What was shocking or funny was not his peeing in the street because most people did it as they do it now. This man held his organ in one hand and the book in the other and urine flowed at the same speed as his reading.
Later on came another writer, this time a writer and bookseller known by his pen name as Awgechew Terefe (a.ka. Hiruy Minas). He was selling and reading books first at the old book stalls in Mercato and then around the National Theatre. It was rumored at that time that Awgechew would read a dictionary if by any chance he had no favorite book with that he did not skim through but analyze the stories and characters and that was evident when he talked about the books he had read.
Most of the talks among the book reading fraternity centered the most famous Ethiopian readers including the late Dr. Kebede Michael who was said to have read some 3000 books in his lifetime before he succumbed to the vagaries of life after his home library was ransacked and his books confiscated by the Kebele officials under the Derg. His residence was turned into one of their offices while the author was forced to hire a room in Tourist Hotel where he lived for a long time. We could see him walking to and from Piazza, holding his cane in one hand while shaking his fingers at some invisible person or thing. He had aristocratic bearings and seemed to imitate the manners of George Bernard Shaw, the famous British playwright. However, he did not look well, maybe because he resented life without his books.
Even among the common folks, carrying books in their pockets or holding them with their hands was sometimes considered a sign of erudition and everybody had their share of “mobile books” as we have now our mobile phones. There were people like the other famous journalist whose fondness with reading knew no time limit.
This man was rightly considered the best newspaper editor and news writer of his generation and he apparently sharpened his writing skills by reading The Sunday Times of London, The Guardian or The Economist magazine that he read from page one to the end. His friends sometimes poked fun at his reading obsession. He was both a legendary newspaper writer and a lover of beer he enjoyed both at the same time and with the same relish.
Reading was so common and popular at that time that even soccer lovers would not go to the Addis Ababa stadium without newspapers in their hands. They read the papers until the match started and when the sun beat hard, they used them to protect their heads from the heat. When the team they supported won, they set the papers on fire by way of celebration. In the dark, long after the match was over, you could see the flames from the burning newspapers that produce an eerie contrast with the darkness around the stadium.
Nowadays, reading books in the street, in bars or restaurants is not only a rare sight but anyone who indulges in this honorable habit might be seen as a weirdo. In those places where book lovers were often seen turning book pages, or discussing them with their pals, another generation has long settled down, a generation fond of counting wads of money in public, showing off and killing time boozing, munching raw meat and laughing excessively as if Charlie Chaplin has returned from his grave to perform for them.
This is the new generation that has apparently abandoned the great passion his fathers had for reading books and enjoying the arts. There may still be a few young people who might be reading books, but the majority of them have switched to mobile phone tapping.
In the West, this century has produced entrepreneurs like Mark Zuckerberg who invented Facebook and made billions in his thirties. Here in Africa, the new century has given rise to a class of idle young people who kill time with mobile devices day and night, watching porn and throwing insults at one another. I say this without forgetting the few disciplined young boys and girls who are trying to use these devices not to look for tips on how to do body massage but for acquiring a certain amount of new skills, information or knowledge.
Almost no one is reading in buses and taxis these days because getting a taxi to go home after work is as almost impossible as waiting for the snow to fall at this time of the year. Arat Kilo has lost its readers and intellectuals and gave way to young job seekers who fight at vacancy notices to wait for jobs that never come. Soccer lovers these days have lost both their taste for domestic football and the passion newspapers the old spectators set alight when their teams scored goals.
The coming generation might one day stop reading books altogether, or going to the stadium. They might spend their time in front of flickering laptop screens and mobile phones. If at all they might sometimes gather the will to read something, they might read about the history of books and reading in 20th century Ethiopia and laugh how their forefathers were spending time in the idle pursuit of turning pages and telling far-fetched stories.
BY MULUGETA GUDETA
The Ethiopian Herald November 5/2023
