Addis Ababa – the Novel City
Dirk E. Hebel
I
t is six o’clock in the afternoon; our air plane starts its descent.
Solar panels, first only a few, then more and more become
visible through the clouds installed throughout luscious
agricultural fields, announcing the proximity of the metropolis.
Then, in the distance I can see it: Addis Ababa, the ‘new
flower’. 150 years after its creation through Menelik II, its name
sounds to me like a long promised wisdom, which has been
finally crystallized into reality. The last daylight paints the small
structures in reddish colors.
Minutes later, the soft fabric below appears like a porous
mass, lights shimmer through small openings, seemingly
illuminated rivers form an organic network through the mass.
The vegetation of the mountains flows almost undisturbed into
the bowl-shaped cityscape, where it forms a translucent veil,
protecting everything beneath. Lights illuminate trees from
below and create patterns reminding me of veins. Underneath,
small rapid moving vehicles are to be seen, almost like ants
running in a seemingly organized chaotic manner. My daughter
is glued to her window. She was born here in a time when all
of this was just a dream. Today she is part of an unprecedented
change, and proud of it.
I can see the old palace of Menelik and his wife Taitu; I can see
the pixelated character of Merkato; but most of all I can see and
almost feel the immense density of social spaces. I can’t wait to
immerge into the new cultural mile of Sidist Kilo, a place full of
Ethiopian culture, restaurants, street theater and interaction. I
finally want to see the recently finished pedestrian zone around
the national theater, which apparently became a new magnet
of the city by day and by night. Over and over again, I want
to walk through the cultural park on the former train tracks,
which can be found at the southern end of Churchill Road, one
of many centers of the city, almost like the Ethiopian version of
New York’s Central Park.
The landing is smooth; the engines powered by hydrogen
come to a standstill at the gate. Ethiopian Airlines was the
first commercial airline worldwide to adopt hydrogen power
technology for its entire fleet, since the countries decentralized
power supply system generates enough energy to produce the
fuel almost free of costs. We walk the gangway. Every time I
came here since my first visit in 2006, I could already smell
the city right here: the scent of burnt firewood, continuously
deforesting the country every year. But today, I don’t smell
anything. The households of Addis Ababa cook with gas
from their own production. They create butane gas using the
electricity coming from their solar panels. How was all of this
possible? In 2024, the government decided to give out small
solar units for each household in Ethiopia. By spending only a
fraction of the yearly foreign aid provided to the country, units
in the value of 200 US Dollars produced energy of 100 Watt
per hour for millions of families in the country, enough to have
light during the evening hours, powering radios or small pumps
for water distribution. Soon after, small privately organized
corporations formed, creating micro grids among neighbors,
then villages or whole kebeles. Farmers started to add more
panels to their system and upgraded their capacity. Finally, they
could build a network spanning kilometers into the regions,
using new loss-free cables in order to transport the electricity
over long distances. People in the most neglected rural areas
started to sell extra energy, using their cell phones. There was
no more need to migrate into bigger cities. They could sustain
themselves in the rural areas, farming energy and selling
ADDIS 2050: an Alternative Pathway into Ethiopia’s Future
Conference in Addis Ababa 2012
it to the booming industry with much cheaper prices than a
centralized grid could ever have done. Soon after, the first small
success stories spread through the country; cooperatives took
on larger investments and installed the first wind power mills.
Step by step, these cooperatives activated the biggest capital
Ethiopia has: its people, their intelligence and entrepreneurial
potential.
Today, the country can satisfy its whole energy requirement
out of electricity converted from solar radiation, alongside
wind, geothermal and hydropower production. By harvesting
energy from millions of small privately owned photovoltaic
power systems, the old touristic slogan of ‘thirteen months of
sunshine’ won new relevance. The state owned hydropower
stations are mainly used as a back-up system in Ethiopia and
to export large amounts of electrical energy to neighboring
states. With the income, Ethiopia developed much faster than
the rest of the African nations. While others still followed a
model of growth based on fossil energy, Ethiopia empowered
the individuals. Information, data and with it education played
an immense role. Pressure was taken away from big cities like
Addis Ababa which enabled the markets to finally deal with the
long existing gaps in housing and infrastructure.
New ideas of how a similar approach ¬– empowering the
individuals ¬– could also be adapted for the housing sector
played an important role. A young generation of architects
formulated ideas to rethink the usual approach employed in
social housing projects. Instead of providing out-dated and outcultured typologies coming from abroad, a new system was
introduced of two to three storey half-build structures, which
could be finished by the inhabitants according to their financial
possibilities and needs. Built very densely, people moved into
small neighborhood developments on the same places they
used to live their whole life, favoring a social mix and ground
floor access to enable them to build up small scale businesses
close to their homes. Social bounds and networks were kept in
place and formulated the starting cell of an economy based on
micro entrepreneurs of which more and more grew fast into
bigger companies and business structures.
It was understood that economic growth is directly linked to
the social and spatial structures of the people. Ethiopia had the
great advantage of never being colonized, so they could develop
their own view and method of growth, based on their own
culture and needs. Instead of a tabula rasa approach, which was
practiced since 2007 in some of the inner core areas of Addis
Ababa and pushed people out of their social and economic
networks, the city administration started already in 2015 to
favor the new ideas of rebuilding the housing infrastructure
from within. Small interest groups and corporations started to
develop a very heterogeneous housing market, regulated only
in terms of density, height, ecological footprint, and quality
of diverse building materials. The city earned by selling the
land to the new owners, starting an identification process of
the people and equaling groups of different social and cultural
backgrounds. The result was a decrease in social strains,
improved security in Addis Ababa and everybody was enabled
to build their future with their own hands. The neighborhoods
were also made responsible to develop decentralized sewage
systems, garbage systems and to regulate their fresh water
supply. It was finally understood that a city is build by millions,
not only by a few. Today Addis Ababa
is an organism of individual operating cells, creating an open
system that can withstand any threat from outside, since it is
build on heterogeneous elements which are fast in adapting to
new challenges.
market exploded. The vehicles were cheap. They were initially
imported, but now, they are produced in Ethiopia, giving job
opportunities to thousands of people. By now, these vehicles
“Made in Ethiopia” are exported to almost every African nation.
Electricity in abundance also changed the way Ethiopians
move. From the airport we take the electrically powered
tram. Along Bole Road images pop up in my mind of how
this east-west axis used to look like. To drive along here took
hours. The exhaust of the cars made breathing difficult, black
smoke came out of almost every car, even new ones using
regular tuned engines in the height of 2600 meters above sea
level. Most of the diesel was not burned and formed a yellow
cloud hanging over the city every day. The first reaction of the
administration to the notorious daily traffic jams was a very old
fashioned one: they widened the street, yet another lane to
create even more traffic and even worse conditions. Somebody
told me once it would be as if I would open my belt around
my waist in order to prevent gaining weight. It was simply the
wrong approach: wider streets attract more traffic and the
same was true in Addis Ababa. Two things changed all of this:
the abundance of renewable energy made electric powered
traffic more affordable than fossil fueled alternatives. First,
short electric bus connections were introduced by private
initiatives. Then, an electrical tramway was built by the city
administration, moving hundreds of thousands of people every
day. Shortly after, public transport was given priority on the
main axis of the city. Dedicated lanes were introduced and
cars were banned from African Avenue, Ring Road and other
major veins. Instead, another form of transport was introduced
on those major roads: dedicated lanes for electric powered
two wheel vehicles. Once the infrastructure was created, the
Dedicating infrastructure also gave them the opportunity to
rethink the spatial and social concept of the street network
in Addis Ababa. Learning from cities like Dire Dawa, where
people can walk on shaded walkways since its foundation by
the French, the biggest urban plantation project launched in
the history of Ethiopia. It was the aim of the city administration
to shade every walkway and street as much as possible.
Indigenous trees and plants were selected which have an
umbrella shape such as the acacia. Larger trees were selected
in order to form an immediate effect. Shading the walkways
and streets began by an initiative of the administration along
the mayor axis, but the neighborhoods and kebeles followed
right after. The plants form today an incredible protection layer
in the inner city. Illuminated during the night hours, one feels
like moving through a garden. The microclimate changed in a
matter of years. The vegetation absorbed the high sun rays and
absorbed carbon dioxide from its surroundings. Most of all, it
generated a new quality of life. The tree, which for thousands
of years represented the place of Ethiopians to gather and
interact, introduced again a cultural identity, which is unique to
the Abessinian society.
Looking through the windows of our silent tramway, I can still
see the remains of what was once believed to be the future
of Ethiopia in the beginning of our century. Ugly slick glass
bunkers in under cooled colors and at great distance from the
street. They appeared like objects without character wearing
sunglasses to establish barriers. They look the same as what
they once were: misunderstood imports of power. But they
do not belong here where millions of people are empowered.
How colorful, open and unique the structures look just next
to them. They embrace the street with arcades, protecting
the vendors from sun and rain. How human their scale feels
with heights not exceeding five stories here on a main axis
and how dense they were built forming a street line close to
the bike lane, shading it even more with natural means. Here,
heterogeneous architecture forms a building mass to enhance
the quality of outside spaces and not to separate themselves
from it. Restaurants and cafes have their tables outside, a
scene I was looking for so much when we used to live here
some 40 years ago.
For architects, the Ethiopian climate is a paradise. Usually, no
heating and no cooling of the buildings is necessary. But of
course it requires knowledgeable and well-trained designers
and planners. Recessed openings in the facades of the
buildings guarantee the protection from rain and sun. Large
overhanging roof structures do the same, collecting rainwater
at the same time. Most of all, it was the change in the building
laws of Ethiopia that sparked an incredible innovation process
in the construction sector. Most of the materials used today
are produced within the country, not far from where they are
needed. High tech knowledge was combined with low tech
materials in order to find ways of getting out of expensive
material imports. Organic fibers formed the reinforcement
for Ethiopian produced cement, straw panel technology
and stabilized soil blocks formed major components for wall
constructions whilst composite bamboo materials became a
backbone industry for the country, since more than 50% of all
African bamboo is growing in Ethiopia. Expensive steel imports
could be minimized, in part because high-rise buildings are not
necessary any more in Addis Ababa. The decision of reducing
the height to five stories on major axis and to three stories in
mixed residential zones eased up the material consumption of
the construction sector enormously.
Arriving at our friend’s house, we are happy to see the changes
since our last visit. When they bought the unit 30 years ago,
it was nothing but a promise. Their family has lived here for
140 years, they came here to serve the emperor and lived –
just like the majority of the citizens in Addis Ababa – in mud
and corrugated metal huts around the palace, which were
considered ‘slums’ in the beginning of the twentieth century. But
the area was not demolished like so many others in Kasanchis
or Lidetta. Here, new housing models based on the possibilities
and entrepreneur potential of the tenants were introduced:
houses, which were only build with the bare minimum of
structural means and the potential to be finished an added
on by the inhabitants themselves. The ground floor was left as
an open public area for small-scale business endeavors of the
families, covered with a floor plate. This plate, to be reached by
an outside stair, became a new, elevated private ground for the
families. From here, two stories were erected, connected by an
inner staircase and equipped with the most basic infrastructure
like fresh water and a sewage pipe, all supplied and managed
by the neighborhood. Walls out of natural stone and air-dried
clay bricks were filled in the concrete skeleton structure, easy
to handle and very inexpensive to produce. The future tenants
could even help to build the basic shelters to save as much
money as they could. Like that, families like our friends could
afford to move in these “to-be-finished” units on the same
place where their ancestor used to live for all those years.
Each house was built only half, leaving an empty space on the
first floor for future construction possibilities between the
neighbors. For the first couple of years, our friends lived in the
basic structure, but when they expected their first child, they
decided to place a division wall in the second floor, creating
some privacy for themselves. Soon after, they started to fill
the gap to their neighbor and doubled their floor space as the
family was growing bigger. When we walk up to the first floor,
one is fascinated by the atmosphere created by the mixture of
living and working spaces in the neighborhood. Life in Addis is
pleasant, the temperatures are mild and almost all activities are
happening outside. People are gathering around small plazas,
all of them overgrown with at least one big tree, following the
ancient tradition of Ethiopia. Cars are not welcome here; the
public space belongs to the people and their daily routines. The
design respects the individuality of the citizens, it allows them
to materialize their hopes and dreams, and the city government
gives the framework and the possibility without patronizing the
inhabitants. Like that, thousands of vivid communities could
grow over the years, each one special and unique, as such, the
city became a conglomeration of differences, a healthy system
of heterogeneity. We like to be here, we like to see the change
every year and we see how proud the people are, how much
care they take to maintain their properties and spaces around
them.
What a turn the city took. In the beginning of the century, as
a young architect following the urban development of Addis
Ababa into a more and more segregated, abrasive and antisocial place, I almost lost hope. But today it is such a fulfilling
experience to see and feel how livable this space is. It just
took a few brave decisions. Since the third decade of the 21st
century, prosperity and growth in Ethiopia is based on an
ecological transformation, which affected the whole society. It
came by empowering the individuals.
You think all of this is just a dream? On Friday, May 25th
2012, for the first time in its long history, Germany produced
more energy converted from solar radiation than the whole
country consumed on that day with its 80 million inhabitants
and booming industry. This fact gets even more surprising in
that that almost 100% of the solar panels necessary for the
conversion are privately owned, primarily installed in rural
areas. In total, renewable energies accounted in the first half
of 2012 for 25% of all energy production in Germany. In the
last year, solar energy saw the biggest increase in the market
and went up by 47% compared to 2011. Today, Germany is the
world’s top market for power converted from solar radiation
and its installed capacity accounts for more than a third of the
global total. Looking at the geographical position of Germany,
this fact surprises even more, since countries in southern
hemispheres show much higher potential and efficiency rates
to use solar radiation as a major energy resource. It is a fact
that Ethiopia is amongst those countries where solar energy
could be produced in abundance.
Starting in the 19th century, the industrial revolution introduced
technologies based on the consumption of coal, oil and gas.
For over 150 years now, global markets are fueled with finite
and non-renewable resources. Next to the finite nature of
those, carbon dioxide emissions threaten our lifestyles, health
and security. The dependency on fossil resources pressures
economies in so called developing territories. In some African
nations, the import of fossil resources is significantly exceeding
the national domestic product. This development cannot be
sustainable. In recent years it became clear, that we cannot
globalize our current energy systems and we can also not
globalize our oil-based transport systems in place. We also
cannot globalize urban typologies without reflecting local,
social, cultural and most of all ecological conditions.
The urban development from its very beginning was always a
mirror image of our own cultural, social and more and more our
technological accomplishments. Fascinated by the industrial
development of Europe and North America in the beginning
of the 20th century, architects began to understand their
designs as machines: efficient, productive and reproducible
in the millions. It was their strong belief that by applying the
same linear functionalism as the industrial fabrication did,
human life would be transformed into a more productive and
therefore happier level. With the “Charta of Athens” in 1933,
the “Congress International de Architecture Moderne“ (CIAM)
manifested all future city planning to follow the mentioned
principles of an efficient, linear organism, which is divided into
functional areas. The concept of the Functional City became
the dominant blue print for modern architects and planners of
the time. They shaped the cities in Europe and North America
following the ideology put forward by the ‘Charta of Athens’.
The economic success and financial growth of those nations in
the second half of the twentieth century resulted in a fusion
and also confusion of the visible image of the cities with the
notion of modernity. Those images started to be imitated by
new booming economies in the beginning of the twenty first
century, mainly the Tiger States in Asia, India, Dubai and China.
The African cities also started the copy paste strategy, losing
their own identity in the process. If they do not stop the import
of images, they will be for centuries nothing else but a rip-off of
an outdated system. While the European countries started to
reinvent themselves with great struggles in order to overcome
their existing ideologies, the developing nations have the
great chance to be ahead of the game and introduce a reverse
modernism, whereby the North could learn from the South.
It needs visionary leadership and decision makers to believe
in the very strength of every nation: their people. If it is still
true that our cities are a mirror image of our social, cultural
and technological accomplishments, how would cities based
on an ecological transformation if not revolution look like? Can
ecology be the fountain of youth for our economies? And can
such a development shape the urban territory as the industrial
revolution did? Can we think of African cities that path the way
for a new way of thinking and invent the necessary modes of
an ecological urbanism? Can we think of African cities that
produce more renewable energies than they need? Can we
think of African cities that favor public space over speculative
space? Can we think of African cities that base their housing
projects on cooperatively owned incremental programs instead
of ready-made objects? Can we think of African cities with zero
emissions? I clearly think we should.