What Changed for the Women — and What Fell Apart

Similar initiatives. Different outcomes. Same effort.

Ten years ago, I was forced to leave Ethiopia abruptly. There was no opportunity to say good-bye or plan for a smooth transition. I could only hope that some of our programs had made a sustainable difference.

In February 2026, I returned — nervous about what I would find and how I would be received. My intention was not to fix and not to help—I only wanted to observe and reflect. With the benefit of hindsight and a shift in perspective, I begin to see patterns that had been hidden by the busyness of the work. My return became a pilgrimage of the unexpected.

A discovery of why— not just what—endured.

Empowered — or Not?

During my first year in Ethiopia, I camped in the remote Minogelti kebele (a widespread cluster of huts), working under the radar while waiting for my non-profit, Global Team for Local Initiatives (GTLI), to be licensed.

A group of women, led by Gulu Bola, had formed the Minogelti women’s cooperative. They had no money, could only count to ten, and spoke very little Amharic, the national language. I hurriedly created a five-page list of questions and answers I believed they should learn, hired a local government worker to translate it, and found a missionary willing to teach. Voila — GTLI’s first school was born.

When we later received our USAID grant, we informed Minogelti that we would no longer be camping there. Our base of operations would shift to Wonga Bayno kebele — an area we believed had a critical advantage: a stronger, more cohesive group of elders.

Wonga Bayno became the test site for all GTLI initiatives: water systems, sanitation and hygiene training, education for children and adults, chicken farming, and women’s empowerment activities.

The Minogelti community felt betrayed. The women’s cooperative was devastated. We left, promising to continue support and include them in as many initiatives as possible — and we did.

Both cooperatives received training and grinding mills to generate income. Gulu Bola and Dobe Oita, their respective leaders, even accompanied me to the United Nations Permanent Forum for Indigenous Peoples in New York City.

Ten years after GTLI stopped working in the area, the outcomes could not be more different.In Wonga Bayno, the women’s cooperative no longer exists. Access to the community is difficult, the school is closed, the field camp is a wasteland, and the people — including Dobe —are struggling to survive.

In Minogelti, the women’s cooperative is thriving. Their annual dividend feeds their families for a year. Children regularly attend school. The access road is maintained by the government. The community is vibrant. Gulu has become a regional advocate for women.

What made the difference?

In Wonga Bayno where the cooperative failed, village elders controlled the money. The women had no voice. Dobe tried to advocate but she was beaten down by the elders and pushed aside.

In Minogelti, where the cooperative thrived, the women controlled their income—and had an aggressive leader, Gulu, who could defend that control.

The clarity of hindsight is simple:

Without control, empowerment is an illusion.

Changing the Norm

When GTLI was awarded a family-planning grant, we knew it would be difficult to meet our goals.

The five tribes we worked with shared a deeply embedded cultural norm: a woman’s value was determined by how many children she had. The more children, the higher her status—and her chance of being the primary wife.

We held numerous focus groups under the hot sun, searching for language that might resonate—

words that could challenge generations of belief. Our behavior-change specialists, Delphine Pastiaux-Murphy and Yehualashet Belete, developed a simple message: “Have fewer children to have more healthy children.”

It worked with four of the five tribes. But not with the Dassanech. They were not interested — until their environment changed. Several years after we left, the Gibe III Dam released floodwaters that displaced more than sixty percent of the Dassanech population. Food scarcity intensified. Children began to die.

In that new reality, something shifted.

Some adults remembered the message they had once rejected. Struggling to feed their families, they began having fewer children.The message had not changed.

The context had.

Family planning is now the norm.

My D.R.E.A.M.

Desire: To see clearly—without rushing to act, judge, or fix.

Reflect: On what has endured in my own life, not just what appeared successful in the moment.

Explore: Where timing, context, and control are influencing outcomes—often in ways I don’t

immediately see.

Acknowledge: That every decision creates ripple effects, and I am responsible for the tradeoffs

— not just the intentions.

Mantra:

I don’t need to rush to change everything.

I can pause, observe, and wait for clarity over time.

Reflection allows us to see patterns — not just in what worked, but in why it endured.

Short-term results are often misleading.

Ideas do not succeed or fail on their own merit. They succeed when they fit the reality people are living in—or when that reality shifts.