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    The Road to Tangible Hope: An Ethiopian Woman's Tale of Survival, Strength, and Inspiration
    The Road to Tangible Hope: An Ethiopian Woman's Tale of Survival, Strength, and Inspiration
    The Road to Tangible Hope: An Ethiopian Woman's Tale of Survival, Strength, and Inspiration
    Ebook105 pages1 hour

    The Road to Tangible Hope: An Ethiopian Woman's Tale of Survival, Strength, and Inspiration

    By Telile Yoseph

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    About this ebook

    The stories that I share in this book have always been a dark secret buried so deeply that even most of my friends and family had no idea what I have endured in life. 

    Now, having told my story, I feel that a huge burden has been lifted. My secrets are now in the open and I believe that no girl or woman in the world should have such dark secrets hiding in her heart. I want to encourage all women who are or have suffered the indignation of abuse to break free of the silence, live their lives with joy and look for ways to lift up others as well. Together, we can give voice to the voiceless, all over the world.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherAdu Publishing
    Release dateJul 4, 2024
    ISBN9798989262410
    The Road to Tangible Hope: An Ethiopian Woman's Tale of Survival, Strength, and Inspiration

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      Book preview

      The Road to Tangible Hope - Telile Yoseph

      Introduction

      Imet Telile Yoseph, nicknamed Lily, about ten years ago when I attended an inspiring presentation she gave about the work she was doing with young girls in Ethiopia. She first showed us pictures of sick, under-nourished, sad little girls. Then, we saw pictures of the same girls after she provided them with health care, nutrition, education, and personal mentoring. In the second set of pictures, the girls were glowing with health and confidence. I was sitting there with tears running down my face. I had to help. Soon, Lily and I became close collaborators on this mission. Since Lily spoke four languages—two Ethiopian languages, Dutch and English—I became the native English speaker who put Lily’s thoughts on paper.

      So it was that Lily told me she had amazing stories from her life that she had told no one. Even people close to her did not know the heart-wrenching, life-threatening experiences she had endured. My husband Floyd and I decided to rent a cottage on Vancouver Island, Canada and take Lily there so I could record her life story.

      Every morning, Lily would cook breakfast for Floyd and me and then he would take off for the day, leaving Lily and me to work on her story. Lily would lay on the floor, her story unfolding in her lovely, low, melodious voice. I would sit on the couch with my computer on my lap recording this amazing, twisted tale of her incredible strength, survival, and, especially, her spirit. Please note that this manuscript is short but dense and intense and it is written in direct, short sentences in the cadence of Lily's speech when she speaks in English. In a way, you are hearing Lily speak. This is Lily’s story.

      Janet Dean, Tangible Hope Foundation Board Member

      Grandmother Ako

      My grandmother Ako had 18 children with one man. There were three sets of twins. She was a midwife and delivered my family’s babies. She was a very strong, bold, and a beautiful woman. She was tall and carried herself with confidence. She had a bright smile with beautiful straight white teeth. She was well-known as a psychic and a healer who had incredible charisma. People were drawn to her. They would line up in front of her house, waiting for the medicines that she would concoct for their various illnesses. My family said I was just like my grandmother. I even inherited a dark streak along the side of my tongue (it’s called the snake tongue). That, in my culture means that when you curse someone, it sticks.

      Before I was born, Ako worked for wealthy people doing small jobs to earn enough money to send her children to school. She was illiterate but wanted her children to have an education. She managed to educate nearly all 18 of her children, and most of them did well in life.

      Grandmother in her garden

      Ako and her husband, my grandfather, lived as a loving couple for many years. Sadly, he died of pneumonia when I was about three years old. She mourned him so deeply that the sadness never really left her eyes.

      By the time of my grandfather’s death, Ako had earned enough money to have beehives, cows, sheep, chickens, and a huge vegetable and flower garden. On honey harvest day, we children were given the raw honey-combs as a treat. The sticky sweet syrup dripped down our chins as we happily slurped it up. Everything was delicious at grandmother’s house. She made a traditional Ethiopian dish, called inset, from shredded roots that were buried in the earth for three months. It is very healthy and high in mineral content. Every time I smell it and taste it, I can see my grandmother standing tall and smiling at me. She was the matriarch of the family, and everyone loved her, listened to her advice, and respected her decisions.

      Childhood

      Iwas an only child. My mom and dad met each other at the Swedish missionary school in Kofele, Ethiopia. My dad was raised in the Swedish missionary orphanage there, because when he was 13 years old, his mother and father died within one month of each other. We think they died of pneumonia, but there is no way of knowing for sure.

      My father, Yoseph, was the oldest of four boys. Of course, I never got to meet his parents (my paternal grandparents). My father told me they had a huge farm with cattle, horses, sheep, and chickens. When my father’s parents died, my dad’s uncle took all the wealth and property for himself. The family thought he would take the four boys, too. However, he did not want them and did not take care of them. My father, all alone with one of his younger brothers, walked many miles to the Swedish Missionary to ask if they would take them in. The kind missionaries gave him and his younger brother food, a place to sleep, school clothes, and enrolled them in school. Soon, my father went back to get his other two brothers so they could go to school there, too. The third brother was also taken in by the missionaries. One brother, who was too young for school remained with his uncle. He worked on the farm over the years and later became a farmer himself. My father understood how important this opportunity to go to school was and studied very hard so he would do well. Later, he became a teacher at the missionary school that he had attended. That’s where he met my mother who was also a student at the missionary school and became a teacher there as well.

      They fell in love and were married. One year later, I was born. I was a fat little girl, so my grandmother called me Gonjoba, the little chubby one. I was baptized in the Swedish Missionary Church. My baptismal name was Mehreat. It’s a biblical name meaning forgiveness. It was prescient, as I would have much need for forgiveness in my life.

      When I was old enough, I started going to Sunday school. My friends were the Swedish kids in kinder-garten. I had a handsome blue-eyed blond friend named Adam. I was completely obsessed with him. I loved that he was so different from Ethiopian kids. We became great friends, and I often played with him and his sister.

      My father played piano in Sunday services. Every Sunday I looked forward to going to church to listen to dad’s music and especially, to see my crush, Adam. We spent a couple of years attending school and church together. I told my father, When I grow up, I’m going to marry Adam. Father answered, We’ll see.

      My birthmother, me, age 4, my dad

      While I was still in kindergarten, I visited my father’s classroom. The world map was hanging on the wall. I told my dad, Daddy, I want to go here, here, and here, pointing to different places on the map. I want to meet people from all around the world. My dad assured me, You will see the world and meet many people. First, you must finish school.

      My father will always

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