The Door of Hope

21/05/2026

The Eternal Word
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things were made through Him, and without Him nothing was made that was made. In Him was life, and the life was the light of men. And the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not comprehend it. John 1:1-5

04/05/2026

When Nature Fails to Answer: What Pascal and Lewis Taught Me About Faith

By Zenebe Tsega
4 May 2026

There was a time when I believed, like many do, that the universe should somehow reveal God clearly—through its beauty, its order, its vastness. But the more I looked at nature, the more I understood why Pascal warned us not to build our faith on it. Nature is too mixed, too mysterious, too full of contradictions.
C. S. Lewis once described his atheism in terms that felt painfully familiar to me. He looked at the universe and saw emptiness, coldness, and silence. He saw a world where life survives by devouring life, where consciousness brings not only joy but fear, and where human beings—capable of reason and imagination—use those gifts to hurt one another. When he said that happiness is always shadowed by the fear of losing it, I felt the truth of that in my own bones.

If nature is the only evidence we have, then belief becomes difficult. The world is beautiful, yes, but it is also brutal. It gives us sunsets and storms, birth and death, love and grief. It does not explain itself.

Pascal understood this. He knew that faith cannot rest on the shifting ground of natural observation. Instead, it grows from the deeper places inside us—the longing for meaning, the ache for justice, the hunger for love that does not fade. These desires point beyond nature, beyond what we can see or measure.

In the end, both Pascal and Lewis helped me understand something simple but profound: faith does not begin with the universe; it begins with the human heart. Nature raises the questions, but it cannot give the answers. The answers come from somewhere else—somewhere deeper, somewhere more personal.

And perhaps that is the quiet miracle: that in a universe so vast, so cold, and so silent, the human heart still refuses to be satisfied with emptiness. It keeps reaching, longing, hoping. It keeps insisting that love matters, that justice matters, that meaning matters. That stubborn longing is not an accident of biology or a trick of evolution. It is a signal—an inner compass pointing beyond the visible world.

Pascal and Lewis taught me that faith is not the conclusion of a scientific argument but the response of a heart that recognises its own hunger. Nature may not speak clearly about God, but the human soul does. And when nature fails to answer, the heart begins to.

03/05/2026

Open Letter to the President of South Africa
Date: 3 May 2026
To His Excellency, President Cyril Ramaphosa
Subject: Urgent Appeal Regarding the Escalation of Violence and the Protection of African Refugees
Dear Mr. President,
I am writing to you today with a heavy heart, compelled by the escalating wave of xenophobia and targeted violence currently unfolding across South Africa. As the nation approaches the November 2026 local government elections, a troubling pattern has emerged in which the lives of African migrants and refugees are increasingly being used as political leverage.
In the final days of April and the beginning of May, Ethiopians, Ghanaians, Nigerians, and other African nationals have been subjected to violent attacks by vigilante groups and self‑styled protest movements in Johannesburg and surrounding areas. These incidents, carried out with alarming cruelty, have resulted in tragic loss of life and widespread fear among immigrant communities.
Recent events in Johannesburg, Pretoria, Durban, and other regions — including the storming of a school to remove foreign children, the forced closure of immigrant‑owned businesses, and the intimidation of families in their homes — represent a direct challenge to the principles enshrined in the South African Constitution and the Freedom Charter.
Mr. President, we respectfully urge your office to consider the following:
1. Political Accountability
Reports and public discourse suggest that some political actors may be amplifying anti‑immigrant sentiment to divert attention from domestic challenges. We call for firm action to ensure that leaders, regardless of party affiliation, are held accountable for rhetoric or behavior that incites lawlessness, misinformation, or hate.
2. Protection of Vulnerable Spaces
Schools, hospitals, and other essential public institutions must remain safe and neutral environments. The targeting of these spaces by groups such as Operation Dudula sets a dangerous precedent that threatens the safety of children, patients, and workers, irrespective of nationality.
3. Upholding the Spirit of Ubuntu
South Africa’s liberation struggle was supported by many of the same African nations whose citizens are now being targeted. Turning away from refugees and migrants today risks undermining the historical solidarity that helped bring an end to apartheid. The principle of Ubuntu — our shared humanity — must guide the nation’s response.
4. Enforcement of the National Action Plan
While the government has expressed commitment to addressing xenophobia, the pace and visibility of the response have not matched the urgency of the situation on the ground. A consistent, coordinated, and depoliticized approach to law enforcement is essential to protect all who reside within South Africa’s borders.
South Africa has the potential to lead the continent toward a future defined by unity, stability, and shared prosperity. That future cannot be built on foundations of exclusion, fear, or division.
We condemn the recent killings of African migrants and refugees. Their lives mattered, and their loss is a profound tragedy that calls for decisive and compassionate action.
Mr. President, we appeal to your leadership at this critical moment.
Your voice carries immense influence across the nation and the continent. A clear, firm, and principled stance against xenophobic violence would not only reaffirm South Africa’s constitutional values but also restore hope to thousands who look to your office for protection and justice.
We urge your administration to act swiftly, decisively, and transparently to ensure that every person — regardless of origin — can live in safety and dignity within South Africa’s borders.
Thank you for your attention to this urgent matter.
Respectfully,
Zenebe Tsega
Email: [email protected]
Mobile: +64210731462

02/05/2026

28/04/2026

https://youtu.be/1x5F_wop8xE?si=w2Ew67x2ttzygA3Y

802 likes, 52 comments. "Dereje kebede - vol #5 | ደረጀ ከበደ ቁጥር #5"

21/04/2026

By Zenebe Tsega 21 April 2026
Reclaiming the Crow: A Response to the Eagle Metaphor

In a recent speech, the Prime Minister of Ethiopia described himself and his government as “eagles,” soaring high above the people. In the same breath, he referred to the Ethiopian people as “crows” — noisy, weak, and stuck on the ground. Many heard this not as a metaphor, but as a message: a leader elevating himself while belittling the very citizens he is meant to serve.But the comparison reveals more about the speaker than the people. And it misunderstands the true nature of the crow.

To be called a crow is to be called resilient, intelligent, fearless, and communal. Crows do not beg for scraps — they innovate to find their own path. They survive in every environment, from the harshest cities to the most unforgiving landscapes. They remember those who mistreat them, and they do not abandon their kin. They stand together, warn one another, and protect their community with courage.
If the Prime Minister intended to use “crow” as an insult, then he has underestimated the very people whose strength has carried Ethiopia through generations of hardship. The crow is not a symbol of weakness. It is a symbol of survival.
And if we are crows, then we are people who can survive any season, outsmart any obstacle, and ensure that our voice is never silenced. We are people who innovate when resources are denied to us. We are people who remember our history — including the wounds, the betrayals, and the broken promises. We are people who stand together when power tries to divide us.
Some Ethiopians have responded to the speech by saying that a leader who mocks his own people reveals his own insecurity. Others argue that comparing citizens to “noisy crows” reflects a leadership style that prefers obedience over dialogue, silence over accountability, and fear over freedom. These are the concerns being raised by those who heard the speech and felt disrespected by it.
The crow, unlike the eagle, does not rule from above. It lives among the people. It sees the ground clearly. It understands the reality of daily life — the struggles, the hopes, the injustices. The crow does not need height to have vision; it has wisdom earned through experience.
If the government wishes to call itself an eagle, soaring far above the people, then let it. But the people — the so‑called “crows” — are the ones who endure. They are the ones who build communities, protect families, and carry the memory of the nation. They are the ones who refuse to be silenced.
To be a crow is not to be weak.
To be a crow is to be unbreakable.
And if the people of Ethiopia are crows, then they are a force that no speech, no metaphor, and no attempt at belittlement can diminish.

31/03/2026

Celebrating my 7th year on Facebook. Thank you for your continuing support. I could never have made it without you. 🙏🤗🎉