Editors' Note
My Story
Life Diaries
Family Feud
Triple Lattes ...
Is My Blood ...
Burying Demons
Seleda Berenda
30 Questions
Which Half ...?
Top Ten
Seleda Negarit

There are feuds, and then there are SELEDA FEUDS, may the two never be mistaken.

It all started innocently enough…

Wrote Seble:

"Once again I consumed Seleda in one gulp, ahoon liyanqen new. Maybe you should think of MengE's m.o. and give out ration cards. As always everything was beautiful, qonjo. qonjo. Aii Injera... Ere gud new. MT.. MT outdid HIMSELF.. Yes, Seledochu, it is a He. Enem inde Metti... "dessssssssss sileN" libel inji. I laughed all through it. It's what's makes Seleda to "Seledinet"..(you guys are probably too young to get that joke.) [wink]


Life Diaries.. yes they were THE diaries. Maybe I can spare you a lot of fugerra and you can just send me Fasil's email because he is meant for me. YenE new Fascil. Iyegebachihew new, Seledochu?

Be adnaqot inna fiqr,



{Naturally we let both Fasil and MT know of this… and then…}



Wud ihitE Seble, SebliyE, SebliyE, ehem, SebliyE:

If only our esteemed Editors had had the wisdom and the sensitivity to excise your Fasil comments from your otherwise lovely message before forwarding it to me, I would have been blown away by your kindness. Thrilled as I was to the core to receive your praise, I couldn't help but notice how tepid your cheers for me appeared to be when juxtaposed against your pronouncement that "Fasil is yours!"

IndEt y'honal tadya? M'new SebliyE! What about meeeeee? IndE! ;)

Lenegeru inkwan alferdibishim! If I came across a bumper-sticker that read: "Honk if you love Fasil," I bet I'd be the first to toot my . .er . .HIS horn. This godelo-big-leaguer, this Fasil-person routinely venividivici-es his way through the hearts and minds of Seledanbabian leaving havoc in his wake every doggone time he puts pen to paper. He makes me feel as though I slid into Seleda on a special pass called asteyayet! Besmab! MeTne lessu inji, iness I'll survive!

Anchi g'n SebliyE, m'nalebet lijE tinish asteyayet-cut-me-some-slack-biTE-neger bemadreg "You too, MT, are meant for me," btiyiN noro? Ay yesew neger!

Beterefe, I agree that this was a helluvaway to launch the new Seleda-year. Splendid!  My compliments to Heran too, she of "yes-it's-my-real-name" fame (I think) who put the "dynamic" in the duo. It was no accident that SHE was pitted against Fasil. It takes a beautiful mind to match wits with a beautiful mind!

And so it goes . . .

keTalq akbirot gar,



If Seble wonders why it took me so long to respond, please tell her I have been getting threatening mail (bewunetu lehiywote yemiasega) from, who else, MT, on account the love letter she sent me, and I have been away from my usual haunts, avoiding suspicious characters including the editors of Seleda.  MT refuses to accept the fact that the one Seble has chosen in the end is no one else but me me me me me. 

  Wochew guuud,



Wud wondmE Lij Fasil:

I hate to take the contrarian view, but there is hardly room for wrangling when there is no doubting Seble's intent that she meant to make a point by mentioning ME first in her letter to both of us. Surely, there is no need to guess at what she had in mind to convey when she tacked on her "obitrr-dictum-incidental" remark about YOU as some miskeeeeen afterthought.

I don't know how YOU chose to see it Lij Fasil, but a careful reading of the letter reveals the presence of an implicit "by the way" built into her remark right before she mentions you . . .down there, wayyyy down there, at the very, very end! It is far from my grasp how you could possibly revel in being "the chosen one" when in your heart-of-hearts" you MUST know that all she was doing was being inclusive!

Demo "the love letter she sent me" yibaliliNal! Dinqem love-letter! Abayin yalayE minCH yamesegnal alu! If you are referring to the same letter in which she declares to the world how MT "desssssss" indemilat, somesing ain't right! .If that was your idea of a love-letter, I wonder how you'd describe the one she sent me in private explaining how she had felt duty-bound to throw in a few kind words about you just to get it over with. Ay SebliyE! And, yes, you read that right! It's SebliyE! . .FYI, we go back a long way. She and I. We do. As Forest Gump would put it: "That's all I have to say about that!"

Birtatun yisTiliN!
yantew akbari,



Dear MT,

With an unflinching, yiluNtabiss joro dabba libes to Seleda editors' acerbic remarks regarding our exchange of cyber-banters through their medium, I will push the envelope one last time to say a few words to dispel your starry-eyed delusions about the clear choice Seble has made.

If you have a printout of the email, which I am sure you do, (enlarged, the last few lines whited out, framed and hanging on your bedroom wall above the alarm radio that ushers in with a scream another day of toil in the land of milk and honey, dinQem!) I direct your attention to the part that reads: "Maybe I can spare you a lot of fugerra..."  right after (you naively thought) she chose you.  Doubting for a moment my firm grasp on the Amharic lexicon (straight laced or otherwise) because of your refusal to bow out with grace, I looked up the meaning "mefoger" in yeduriye mezgebe Qalat, and it is defined as follows:

  Fogere:  TiQim felligo Qelammede;  hodu "sitasTella" sil, afu "wuy sittamir" ale.

Applied to Seble's usage of the word, it means, she "spread insincere praises and flatteries right and left to get what she wanted."  And what she wanted was my email address, MT, mT's!

You see, MT, despite her sycophantic preamble which you, in your touching simplicity, took for a declaration of a preference for you, Seble is an honest person at heart who doesn't have what it takes to lie to the end.  When she can no longer go on beating around the bush as she courtesy-dances her way through to me, she lets the cat out of the bag and confesses: "May be I can spare you a lot of fugerra and you can just send me Fasil's email," and then she drops the daisy cutter that should have blasted you to Begemidir, poor MT, m'Ts:  "He (me of course) is meant for me!"  How about putting that in your pipe and smoking it?  It might soothe the pain.  One more thing: she asked for my email, not yours.  And she ends it all with "yene new Fascil" meaning "I don't give a damn who takes those I mentioned for the sake of form."

The typo in the spelling of my name?  Just a mere lapse caused by the amorous whirlwind that swept through her as she made her desire known.  Don't you think, MT?  M''Ts!

   I wish you luck elsewhere, MT, m'Ts




Here I am, in all my chewa ye abesha lij bienséance, trying hard not to be flattered. But hell if all this virtual serenading by these two qendeNa (pun intended) cyber ashkormamiwech won’t make a girl feel pings and pangs of pride at being elevated way above the tereNa Seledista hoi polloi. (Sheeezzzz, it just might be the safest ménage á trois these days…)
O tempora, o mores!  

Eski-ki-ki-ki? indEt indEt? BejjjjjjjjjjjE…Gebachu yemilew?



Lij Fasil:

I was thoroughly charmed by your letter, even as I was frightened clear out of my wits by the eerily accurate description of my bedroom you offered. Gudikonew!

"assa gorguari zendo aweTa
yesew felagi yerasun aTa

Lekas ajirE, while I was locking horns with you over Seble, you've been checking out my bedroom. Perhaps THAT might explain why my wife has made a habit of reading any piece by the owner of Mekasha's Mother BEFORE she gets 'round to reading mine. I swallowed my pride once and sifera sicher asked why. Her response?

"Antenima awqihalehu!"

I tell ya, a guy can't get a break around here! . .Set my heart at ease, Lij Fasil. Tell me you'll stay out of my bedroom and I'll gladly cede my Seblitu to you, no strings attached. Of course, my retreat bodes ill for poor Seble since she will be forced to settle for second choice, but hey, life is a tradeoff, mn yidereg meches?

And so, we bury the hatchet, you and I, and Seledochu shall stop egging us on and shall henceforth pull in their horns. For the record, however, I'd like to point out a glaring fallacy in your analysis of Seble's usage of "Fugera." I'm afraid you got it backwards iko! It was six lines of profound introspection later (about me) that the "fugera" you so aptly defined made its first appearance, and not by accident. Seble was about to end her note when, out of purely humanitarian considerations, she decided to dedicate all of three lines to you. It was at THAT moment that it occurred to her that anything she might have had to say about you would, by necessity, be nothing but fugera! Hence, "I'll spare you a lot of fugera," she wrote. To my mind, the statement meant that "fugera" bore a direct connection with "Fasil." (She thought of Fugera when she thought of you, is all.)

With unrestrained glee you wrote: "What she wanted was MY e-mail."  Well, I hate to burst your bubble, but don't read too much into it, Lij Fasil. Seble would look stupid to ask for MY e-mail, because she's had it all along.

You cracked me up with your, "put this in your pipe and smoke it!" Would you be so kind as to send me a piece of what YOU are smoking these days? Shoot, if I'm gonna smoke some stuff, it might as well be the "good stuff" that YOU seem you have in your possession; that real mind-altering stuff! . .I too would like to know how it feels to have one's perception distorted; I too would like to know how the mind can be tricked into reading what's not there! . .Just, WHAT are you smoking, LijE?

Beterfema, Lij Fasil, as I honor my pledge to back off, I urge you to be a bit kinder and gentler towards SebliyE. I understand your frustration, but there's nothing to be gained by engaging in mudslinging. You're not gonna win Seble over by calling her a "sycophant" like you did in your letter.

"an evil man is ensnared by the transgression of his lips,
but the righteous escapes from trouble."

"HuNiNi-sm dro qere! Even second-place has to be earned. Be kind to her! In fact, I don't know why you thought you could get away with it. Seble ain't the type who'd shrug off such an insult. If you're not careful, she'll "bienséance" your ass to "hoi polloi" until you cry "O-baby-tempora-O-mores-marN!"

As for that "amorous whirlwind" that you were presumptuous enough to claim must have "swept through her" as she thought of you, I suggest that you bring it up with your doctor, and speedily. You might have been experiencing an attack of vertigo, which might have left you with a fleeting illusion that people were whirling about when, in reality, it was YOU, who was "meqaZet-ing" in a dizzying spin . .and out, wayyy out of the world of reason. I'll pray for your healing.

Cheru amlakachn Teninetun ayinfegih!

yantew akbari:


lol. Bakachiu...

The conclusion reminds me of the saying

"wusejiew wusejiew y'hunilish Tena

dmbajam biTe new dej'im ayasTena."  

And MT's wife crooning…

"minew qonjo gabbi lebseh y'berdihal

batawqew new inji tederibolihal.."

And zen I croon to MT:

"iwedih nebere ahoon Telahuhih

inde sefEd qolo manim zegenehi

(ere ine min gulbet noroN!!)

And zen I croon to Fasil, my one true love,

"And qen sew Tefto btastedadireN

ante ye moyaleam lij litidegagimen.."

As you say, gudnewyezendironeger.

Fasssssilllllllll, esti minale bitwedeN... be Mekasha mazer mot.





I am sure you have been wondering if I had been shamed into silence by your heartrending engurguro. I admit that your musho-biTe Erorro has plucked a couple of minor strings somewhere in the convoluted tangles and twists of my ruhruh anjet. But that is not what has kept me quiet for so long, and you are not the only thing I have ignored these past few days. I have also slammed the door shut on the endless maqinna cherq of this atakach hiywot. The reason? A blazing romance with — who else — Seblitu! After an aging affair with Maritu and a number of risky trysts with someone else’s wife whom I had to jettison because of thinly concealed hints of a reckless fantasy (leaving the father of her children and moving into my house!), Seble’s entry has been like an ample supply of mirT Qibe for the deddeb shiro that my life was turning out to be. My apologies if this makes you drool, but Seble is simply yeset QunCHo. Muyawa! Muyawa! Akalua! Sewunnetua! Endiaw zim yishalal.  

With your permission, I would like to meQeNet a few lines to praise Seble’s virtues and to pity those who have once dreamed of winning her heart. mTs! 




Getaw Lij Fascil:

You really gave it your all this time, I see. I bet you subjected yourself to a grueling rehearsal before you came out with guns blazing, albeit shooting blanks. In my haste to find something of substance in your letter, a futile exercise indeed, for a moment I thought the phrase "convoluted tangles and twists" referred to your LOGIC. Ay yenE neger, and I was about to agree, but, of course, I wouldn't be so lucky. I read on to discover that you were only describing your anjet! Thanks! I'm sure we were all dying to know about the exact layout of your anjet! A vivid description of your wotet-anjet and melalaCHa is what we were waiting to read about!

Lij Fascil, I am but a smidgen of a man next to you, but I saw in your letter a tragic account of what defines you. The letter was interesting for what it revealed (self-psycho-analysis) as well as for what it didn't (an ill-concealed cry for help). What is it with you and this preoccupation with intestines large and small? Your fixation with FOOD? This strange tendency you have to talk about food when you talk about a woman? "MirT qibE, dedeb shiro, yeset muya, Tat yemiasqoreTm woT!" IndEEEE! I've heard of Foot-Fetish, but Food-Fetish? Mn nekabiN Lij Fascil? You are elevating to new heights that age-old aphorism:" The best way to a man's heart is through his stomach!" Lekas wunet new?  

Lij Hod amlaku, this excessive obsession you have with gastronomic excesses is worrying me a lot, bayqoCH yangebegbal, mnm bihon yager lij nehna! With the same psychological quality of a tone you wrote about it in Maritu and, of course, it was all over the place in "Culinary Mestewadid" (July 2001) The same curiously bizarre LINK between a woman and your stomach! . ."A short spell of hunger robbed me of a good portion of my sanity and turned me into an unsmiling, foul-tempered swine ready to kill for a bowl of soup," you wrote. SebliyE may not be no damn Gloria Steinem, but I doubt if she'd slave away for you in your little kitchen! So, what what will you do? Kill the poor girl? . .Don't do it! You kill, you die! You die, they'll say: "hodam kalmote ayarfim!"

Lij Fascil, I'm afraid the line between Seble and food has become blurred for you. It's now safe to say that you're really talking about your love of FOOD when you profess your love for SebliyE! See? . .See how I broke it down for you? Wondim lemeche new!! If you require further proof, it's all there in your little gTm too where you attempted to wax poetic about SebliyE, but found it difficult NOT to link her with your mirT-qibE-Seble-lega-qibE-qbirTisso-Seble! How romantic, anteyE? Why is it that the poor girl has to be some damn qibE? No wonder you have to fight somebody for every woman, who catches your fancy! Whatever happened to: indesemay kewakibt yedemeqew fiqrish . . .?"

You ain't no lover! YOU, MY DEAR, ARE A BON VIVANT!!! Food is your expertise! Almost a year ago, you wrote about "whirling briefly in the frenzied dance of infatuation until the blaze turns to ash!" Hmmm! How prophetic! Sooo Food for thought, I say! I'll have you know, Lij Fascil, Seble's blaze does not diminish, inkwanissina turn to ash! You don't "infatuate" nothin' 'bout no Seble! You love her, or you leave her! Mn nekah anteee?

Beterefema, in a perfect blend of Solomonawi wisdom and unparalleled impartiality heretofore unseen this side of  Balege Shengo, Seledochu had decreed that you were to have the last word. To their credit, they heeded my objection and promised me the last word TOO! And with that non-sequitur, they came perilously close to being kind even if they were quite a ways from making sense! Ah, well . . . . . . . . .

Becher yigTemen iyalku, adegdigE ij inessalehu.








Table of contents Editors' Notes Comments How to Contribute Archives
© Copyright SELEDA Ethiopia, May 2002.   All Rights Reserved.