BY YAFET GIRMA
OPINION:- On Wednesday, the Ethiopian government has taken a significant step that could reshape not only our housing market but also the very concept of ownership and belonging in our cities.
The Council of
Ministers passed a draft proclamation that would allow foreigners to own or
possess immovable property in Ethiopia. As this legislation heads to the Parliament for further discussion and potential ratification,
I find myself grappling with both cautious optimism and deep concern.
Let me be clear: I am not opposed to
foreign investment. Ethiopia has long needed a more dynamic and diversified
economy, and external capital, if managed wisely, can help us get there. We
live in an increasingly interconnected world, and no country thrives in
isolation. However, the question that haunts me and many others is: At what
cost?
For decades, owning a home in Ethiopia has symbolised not just economic stability but dignity, independence, and a stake in the country’s future. Yet for most average citizens, especially in rapidly growing cities like Addis Ababa, Bahir Dar, and Hawassa, that dream has become harder and harder to attain.
Housing prices have soared in recent years. Land
availability is shrinking. The few government-led housing programs that do
exist often fall short because of mismanagement, delays, and limited reach.
Against this backdrop, introducing a law that allows foreigners to compete in an already strained housing market seems, at best, risky. At worst, it could further disenfranchise those of us who have been waiting, saving, and hoping for years.
We already feel like outsiders in
our own cities. What will happen if wealthy outsiders are now allowed to buy
into what little is left?
Supporters of the draft proclamation argue that the law will stimulate investment, create jobs, and boost the construction sector. I do not deny the possibility of benefits.
Ethiopia has
massive housing needs, and private sector involvement, whether local or
international, could accelerate the supply of residential and commercial units.
Foreign investors could bring in advanced building technologies, sustainable
materials, or innovative urban planning ideas that could help modernize our
cities. However, again, the issue lies in how this is implemented and whom it
actually serves.
Policy makers often roughly explain such cases as it is about jobs, innovation, and economic drive. They are right in theory. However, the theory does not pay rent or put a down payment on a condominium.
For people who have been saving for nearly a decade to buy a
modest home, this new law is not just an economic decision. It is a shock for
all who fear being priced out of their homes forever.
One of the major concerns regarding opening the door to foreign property ownership is the risk of gentrification. We have seen it in other parts of the world, from Nairobi to Cape Town, to parts of Southeast Asia.
When wealthier foreigners begin buying up property, prices do
not just rise; entire neighborhoods transform. Locals are displaced, and the
social fabric of communities begins to fray. Will Ethiopia be any different?
In this regard, the government claims that the law is being carefully drafted to strike a balance between attracting foreign capital and protecting citizens’ rights. I want to believe that. But history tells us that such balances are difficult to maintain, especially when powerful interests, both domestic and international, are at play.
The
proclamation is said to include zoning restrictions and ownership limitations,
potentially allowing foreigners to buy property only for commercial or
investment purposes. But what does that look like in practice? How will it be
enforced? And what mechanisms will be in place to ensure transparency and
accountability?
Another layer to this conversation is the Ethiopian diaspora. Many Ethiopians who have lived abroad for years, often because of political, economic, or personal reasons, are eager to return and invest in their homeland. Shouldn’t they be allowed to participate more easily in our real estate market?
Perhaps this new law could include provisions to
prioritize diaspora Ethiopians who maintain cultural and emotional ties to the
country over anonymous foreign investors with purely financial motives.
At the heart of this issue lies a broader question about what kind of Ethiopia we want to build. Is development measured by skylines and foreign capital inflows? Or is progress defined by how well we care for our citizens, our communities, and our shared spaces?
I
believe these two visions do not have to be in conflict, but we need a legal
framework that prioritizes Ethiopians first.
The Council of Ministers may have approved the draft, but it is now up to the House of People’s Representatives, and I would argue, all of us, to scrutinize it closely.
Civil society
organizations, housing advocates, legal experts, and, most importantly,
everyday citizens must have a seat at the table. This cannot be a top-down
decision made behind closed doors. The consequences are too great.
In the end, I want to see Ethiopia grow. I want to see modern buildings, smart cities, and a thriving economy. But I also want to see my fellow citizens, the teachers, drivers, shopkeepers, and students, get a fair chance at homeownership and have a stable life.
If this
new law helps achieve this, I will support it with a sincere commitment. But if
it tilts the scales too far towards foreign interests, we must speak up before
it is too late.
As the draft proclamation moves forward, I will remain hopeful
but watchful. Change is coming. Let us make sure it’s the right resolution.
NB:- Thee opinions expressed herein are solely those of the author and do not necessarily represent the views of Keyir Media