Men Do Not Cry–PFDJ Celebrates an Expiration
“Many Eritreans have nothing to do with it and do not celebrate. They will when the prisoners the government incarcerated decades ago are free.”
Saleh "Gadi" Johar9 min read
The Eritrean government reported that the United States had lifted sanctions imposed on Eritrea under Executive Order 14046 in September 2021.
But that isn’t quite what happened.
However, the PFDJ is congratulated itself for its perseverance and wanted the people to feel the same. However, since it doesn’t disclose relevant information about the impact of the sanctions, only the ruling clique knows the details. The public depends on one-sided political disclosures and irrelevant information except the usual defensive complaints.
Semere Habtemariam has written about the sanctions in his “Perspective” column at awate.com. He saved me the task of repeating what has been said about it for years–thanks to Semere for presenting it in a digestible form.
Eritrea doesn’t have a private economy worth mentioning; the ruling party monopolizes the economy through parastatal companies.
Now it’s claiming victory for the reversal of the sanctions in which it didn’t achieve anything worth mentioning. The effect of the underlying sanctions had an expiry date and it expired, and the U.S. Treasury subsequently removed some of the Eritrean entities and individuals designated under that particular authority from its sanctions list. (OFAC)
Many Eritreans do not see a reason to celebrate the decision; they are more concerned about the prisoners the government incarcerated 25 years ago without trial.
According to some former prisoners or guards, “Apparently, some of the prisoners have died.”The rulers are not known for basic human decency to formally notify their next of kin and hand over their remains. The families who deserve a closure after 25 years of waiting in limbo, are still in the dark. The sanctions mean not much for Eritreans unless the governance is improved, at least Eritreans would have a reason to.
President Trump’s Message
In response to a congratulatory message sent to the people and Government of Eritrea on the occasion of its 35th anniversary of independence last May, President Donald Trump stated it was time for the two countries to put the previous era behind them, move forward, and work together for shared peace and prosperity. The Eritrean government published the message as with other similar congratulations it received on the occasion of the 35th anniversary. (Eritrea Ministry Of Information)
Eritreans tolerated the suffering of decades under the PFDJ’s cruelty, injustice, and total disregard for their freedom, yet they didn’t get a reciprocal reaction to this day. Would it be acceptable to the PFDJ, a copy of President Trump’s congratulatory message, for managing to gag and for emasculating a big chunk of brave Eritreans? For stealing their time, for betraying their freedom, and for curtailing their opportunities, stability, and peace of mind?
The ruling-party loyalists need to be a bit honest. As Semere asked: “Why does Eritrea repeatedly entangle itself in conflicts that have nothing to do with its national interest?”
The Eritrean government media celebrated the “lifting of sanctions” on Eritrean entities and individuals. It framed it for propaganda purposes targeting their uncritical supporters. Who can’t discern between lifting a sanction and a sanctions program whose underlying national emergency had a fixed legal duration and expired.
Several disingenuous media outlets joined in and claimed that the “US removed sanctions on Eritrean Defense Force.”
Sadly, the media environment is so polluted by irresponsible journalism!
For more exposure on that, check Semere Habtemariam’s article on awate.com’s Perspective column, “Washington’s Eritrea Reset: Why Expired Sanctions Are Not a Victory.” The article examines the legal and political context of the expiration and the removal of the Eritrean designations under Executive Order 14046. (Awate.com)
Awate’s “Spotlight” duplicated by Shabait.com
There is a silly duplication on the Eritrean Government’s website. On September 17, 2026, shabait.com published an article on the conflict in Sudan under the title “Resolution of the Conflict in Sudan: Eritrea’s Considered and Long-Pronounced Position.” (Eritrea Ministry Of Information)
I won’t call it copying, infringing, or stealing, but “Spotlight,” the name of the column, was created and belongs to awate.com; it was created more than two decades ago for the renowned writer Woldeyesus Ammar (Menhot Weldemariam).
I was surprised—and flattered—to find out that shabait.com, the official mouthpiece of the PFDJ government, had duplicated “Spotlight.” Is it possible that their creative juice has dried up to that extent? Otherwise, they wouldn’t stoop this low and lazily duplicate the name of awate’s column.
However, they have no qualms about confiscating everything in Eritrea, including the freedom of citizens languishing in prisons for the last quarter of a century. They wouldn’t feel guilty about the relatively small violation of appropriating a column name from awate.com.
Shifa yegberelom, bon appétit.
Prisoners
The last few days have been gloomy. September 18 is the day when unlucky Eritreans remember their missing loved ones. It is the day when many journalists of the nascent Eritrean free press were arrested and their operation was stopped by the PFDJ government.
The wide onslaught that the government heralded hasn’t stopped; it has been violating the rights of Eritreans since Independence Day in 1991. And the crackdown reached an unprecedented level in September 2001. The independent press was closed, editors and journalists were arrested. In addition, members of the G-15, senior members of the ruling party were also detained without charge. These events are documented in U.S. government human-rights reporting from the period. (State.gov)
I find it exceptionally painful to deal with this tragedy decades after it was committed. I saw the children of imprisoned parents when they were young children. Some were too young to remember their parents or elders. Every year they grew up, and every year the intensity of their sorrow increased as they tearfully talked about their predicament. I had similar sad childhood memories.
My Father and my uncles
My father and his older brother were members of the clandestine liberation struggle for as long as I can remember. But I had no idea why the Ethiopian army and police came to our house repeatedly, turned the furniture upside down, and looked for hidden arms or anything suspicious to incriminate my father. First, I was too young to understand, but as time passed, I became aware. I wish I had grown up as innocent as I was.
Officially, children could only enroll in school at age seven. When I was five, my younger uncle was a teacher in an elementary school—and my father was jailed. I cried, and my uncle was always there to remind me: “Remember your father told you men do not cry!”
That denied me my childhood. I thought I was a man.
One day my uncle brought me an exercise book and a pencil and took me along to school. I just spent the day scribbling in the exercise book among students about four years older than me.
The headmaster knew my father, and he pretended I was not there. Years later, I discovered that he was careful not to stir problems with parents whose children had been denied enrollment because they were not yet seven years old. At a time for an exam, my uncle made me take the exam, for the heck of it.
I passed the exam and was promoted to grade two—two years ahead for my age.
Jailers and Prisoners
I accompanied my older brother and nephew, carrying food and blankets to prison for my father when he was in the town prison; often they moved the prisoners to other towns.
I became friends with some children whose fathers were in jail; and at home, I became too sensitive; tiny reasons triggered crying.
But that was too long ago. I never thought I would tear up again for jailed people. I was wrong, I have teared up several times since 2000.
When I saw clips of Aster Yohannes’ and Petros’ daughters, I felt so sad for them. Then I saw Mranet’s children and grandchildren, and I couldn’t stop my tears—and there were many others with heart-wrenching stories. Incidentally, I was recruited by Mranet as a clandestine member of the Eritrean struggle when I was in grade seven.
A few days ago, I wept when I saw Ariam, Dawit’s daughter. She was just a baby when her father was jailed. Now she is a grown-up woman. And she couldn’t complete a sentence without sobbing while tears flowed down her cheeks.
The same has happened to a young relative, Ciham Ali Abdu, who was put in prison when she was 15. Now she is almost thirty and still in prison. The crime? Her father was a minister of the ruling party’s government, and when he abandoned it; the PFDJ’s wrath fell on the daughter.
I wouldn’t wish that kind of suffering on those who hate me, or on those who hate anyone who exposes the system they support—for being outspoken, and for criticizing their “Beloved Comrade Leader Isaias.”
But they are so obsessed that some believe he is the embodiment of Jesus Christ! This is not made up whimsical claim; here are two clips of party loyalists proudly saying it. (links)
Justice is way overdue
For me, this is not simply about sanctions, propaganda, duplicated column names, or another anniversary of September 18.
Twenty-five years is a long time for a person to disappear from a family’s life. It is long enough for a child to grow into an adult without knowing a parent. Long enough for parents to grow old waiting. Long enough for a family to live without knowing whether to mourn or hope.
So, if the ruling party wants Eritreans to celebrate its latest “victory,” perhaps it should first tell them what happened to the people it imprisoned.
Tell the families where their loved ones are.
Release those who are still alive.
Return the remains of those who died.
That would be something worth celebrating.