Kid Rock

Anyone cycle touring in Africa knows that, in Ethiopia, the kids throw rocks at cyclists.  In this beautiful country with warm and friendly people, it is upsetting that this is the commentary that precedes it.  You hear this long before you enter the country and you imagine it can’t be that bad.  Experience has taught us otherwise.

In Ethiopia, especially compared with Sudan, there are people everywhere.  Not only in the villages, but walking between them; tending cattle, carrying water.   There are 85 million people in this country and we think we’ve probably already seen about 20 million on the roadside. The vast majority of people are merely interested by us. Adults smile, nod and occasionally welcome us. As a bare minimum the children generally stand and wave excitedly, screaming “YOU! YOU! YOU!” (often with two hands) You cannot fault their persistence.  They run, full pelt off the hillside: ‘Where are you go? Where are you go?’ they chant at us.  ‘Addis Ababa’ we respond.  ‘Addis Ababa’ the chorus mumble back. 

Beyond this the most dominant shout is “Money! Money!” This demand comes from all angles at all times, often accompanied by a grubby paw thrust in our direction.  We put our Englishness aside (money is not a topic to be discussed) wilfully misunderstand and wave a cheery ‘Hello!’  For the majority of the time, this usually gives them the response they are after. However, the incessant monotony and energy-drain of having to wave and be cheerful to excited children for six hours a day (the challenge of the cycling aside) is extensive.  We do this to try and fend off the potentially worse outcome.

Outside the villages the kids are mostly barefoot, sporting interesting haircuts.  They puncture the quietness of the countryside with their shouts.  This has a Doppler effect as we ride past, getting noisier and then fading as the shouts of the next group kick in.  Some take up the challenge and run alongside us.  On the uphill in particular these children are hard to shed, lolloping alongside us, regardless of our responses the questions and demands still coming (Ethiopia doesn’t produce long distance runners for nothing).  

Local entrepreneur meets local barber

Beyond the shouts for money, what we have been most disappointed by are the rocks.  Whilst 95% of the children and their big grins are a joy, the remaining 5% are not. And 5% of a big number is still a big number. Some of the children pick up pebbles – they just want to hear the ‘ping’ as they hit our spokes. Whilst a bit concerning when they come your way, that is fine and understandable.  We have tried to give the others the benefit of the doubt: however, the image of the sheer malice in the eyes of some of the children who aggressively throw rocks the size of grapefruits at our backs and our bikes, will stay with us for a long time. 

The fact that some children run away having thrown a rock, that some hide behind trees to throw them with anonymity, mean they know that what they are doing is wrong.   As practised herders, they have extensive experience of using stones to keep their goats and cattle in line, their eyes are well in and their arms well calibrated, meaning they are often on target.  Some of our riders have been spat at, had sticks shoved in their spokes, been hit in the face by a rock big enough to chip their tooth and split their lip, requiring stitches. It is unjustifiable. And it means that the absolutely stunning scenery we are passing through is constantly tempered by us spying kids in the distance, picking up rocks, ready for us.   

Many of the children are working in the countryside and carry sticks and shovels over their shoulders, whips and other such implements.  We have seen children you can barely imagine are able to walk carrying scythes.  Whilst these are tools for the field, given our experience of their aggression, this can make passing a bunch of kids pretty intimidating, and once they all start shouting at you, at times terrifying.

There are different theories as to why they do this, as a basic starting point the lack of education is pointed to; certainly there must be a role for childish mischief, frustration also seems to play its part.  Some link it to the demands for money.  We have heard bad stories of tourists passing through in their SUVs throwing 1 birr (the Ethiopian currency) notes out the window to children – this horrifies us, whilst we cannot understand why you would pester a sweaty rider half way up a mountain and struggling to breathe for money (clearly it is not the moment!), this does perhaps makes us understand the children’s demands a little better.  

Alastair Humphreys, who cycled around the world, wrote that “the huge input of unconditional aid by Western countries, generalised in local minds as ‘white people’, seemed to have bred a generation of Ethiopians who wanted to be rich, but didn’t want or feel the need to put in the effort themselves…too many people felt they had the right to be bankrolled by me. I did not feel as though I was a fellow human being.”  Many of those that we see on the road are working, with wood to transport, water to collect, houses to build, however, whilst shocking, we can understand this point of view.  What is it that is unique about Ethiopia that leads to this behaviour?  Our experience has led us to question the impact that aid has had here.