By Samuel Getachew

There are many occasions when I reflect on people that have meant much to me over the years. The person I often think of is always my wonderful grandfather, Jembere Tulu, who died when I was barely 10, but meant the world to me then and even now as I grow older.

I was in high school in Ottawa when my history teacher was teaching us about the great father of universal health care Tommy Douglas, and I asked to go to the washroom and cried my heart out. At the time, I did not know why I cried, but now as time has passed, I realize that it was the kind and wonderful characteristics I saw in Douglas that were similar to my grandfather. One born in poverty in Saskatchewan and the other in the corner of the world in Ethiopia, their life is connected through me, Ethiopian born but a Canadian by choice.

My grandfather was a hero of mine in many ways. When he was a teenager, he left poverty behind by moving from his village to the capital city of Ethiopia, Addis Ababa, looking for opportunities in the big and modern city with determination and youth on his side. He wanted to borrow money and open a small business like many of the ambitious young people of his generation to no avail as the banks turned their backs on him.

Frustrated, he looked on as his close friends prospered in business and family. He was the one who seemed to have been left behind until his friend suggested that he change his name from an ethnic Oromo name to that of an Amhara name, Haile, just like the Kunta Kinte’s character in Roots. He changed his last name from Tulu to Haile. Banks started to give him loans and opportunities opened up.

He decided to invest his money in transportation and started buying buses it seemed at a rate of one every other week. Within a few years, he owned many long-distance buses, a brick factory, was part owner of a huge gas station and had investments in many areas.

As a dictatorial communist government under Mengistu Haile Mariam took over Ethiopia, the government forced his businesses to close down and literally took some of them for government use. But he never gave up the great spirit that brought him from the village nor did he lay blame for the struggle he went through because of his ethnicity.

As his health started to fail him — he became blind later on in his life — he turned to religion and his grandchildren to remind him of the foundation he had built for us all. When he prayed at night, he prayed for Ethiopia and for then United States President Ronald Reagan to bring capitalism to Ethiopia. Never did he allow bad government to determine the true heart of his country.

A few years ago, when my dad visited me here in Canada, he reflected much about his father — my grandfather. He told me of his struggle, his dream, his passion and the fact that he never gave up even when the challenges were so great and deep. He spoke of the many people whom he helped along the way, the generosity of his spirit, his love of the outdoors. He reflected much, became emotional a bit and said that everything that my grandfather stood for and the kind of environment he dreamed of his whole life was embodied in Canada.

My grandfather never met Tommy Douglas nor did I meet the great giant. Their stories, lived very differently, are the reason I live in a decent, generous country like Canada. These two great people allowed poverty to inspire them to do great things for others. One life Ethiopian, one Canadian, both connected by my own Canadian journey.

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