The dream of escaping poverty in Ethiopia has once again turned into tragedy. Earlier this month, a crowded boat bound for Yemen capsized in the Gulf of Aden, leaving more than 130 people unaccounted for, including teenagers lured from their villages by smugglers promising a better future.
Among the dead is 19-year-old Nigus Yosef. His parents in Adi Qeyih had pleaded with him not to leave. They already knew the risks: one of their sons is jailed in Yemen for entering illegally, and their daughter, who also made the journey, remains trapped in Saudi Arabia without legal status. But Yosef, desperate after years without work, set out with five friends on August 3. That night, the vessel overturned. Fewer than 60 of nearly 200 passengers survived.
“His parents are in deep shock and grief,” said his uncle, Redae Barhe. “They can’t even voice their sorrow.”
Eden Shumiye, just 13 years old, was also on the boat. Her parents say traffickers approached her on market day and persuaded her to travel with Yosef’s group. They heard nothing until another migrant phoned from near the Djibouti border. Weeks later, a message from Saudi Arabia confirmed their worst fear: Eden’s body had been found.
“Her mother is heartbroken,” her father, Shumiye Hadush, said. “The pain is truly overwhelming.”
Watch a recent episode of The BreakDown podcast below and subscribe to our channel PanaGenius TV for latest episodes.
The Red Sea and Gulf of Aden have become a corridor of death for migrants fleeing unemployment and instability in Ethiopia. The International Organization for Migration (IOM) estimates that at least 1,860 people have perished along the route, including hundreds who drowned. Despite Yemen’s ongoing war, the number of migrants arriving there nearly tripled in three years, surging from 27,000 in 2021 to 90,000 in 2024.
For many families, the dangers are not confined to the sea. In Addis Ababa, mother Senait Tadesse described how her daughter was kidnapped in Yemen after arriving illegally. The captors demanded a ransom through Facebook.
“I sold my car and all my jewelry,” she recalled. “I deposited the money in an Ethiopian bank account, but they still wanted more.” With no other options, she went to the police. Later, a survivor informed her online that her daughter had been killed. “To date, no arrests have been made,” she said.
Although the war in Tigray ended in 2022, many young Ethiopians remain trapped in cycles of unemployment and despair. Nigus Yosef never finished school after joining the Tigray armed forces at age 12. When the ceasefire was signed, he returned home but could not find work.
“Many young people no longer see a future for themselves within a nation that does not prioritize their needs,” said human rights advocate Yared Hailemariam. “The cause of this migration is lack of economic opportunities and growing conflicts. Young people are faced with a choice of either taking up arms to fight in endless conflicts, or providing for their families.”
READ ALSO: Ghana’s role in Africa’s future: Alan Kyerematen calls for bold leadership on integration
Migration experts say the absence of legal options only fuels irregular travel. “Passports are hard to obtain due to rising costs,” explained Girmachew Adugna, a scholar of migration in the Horn of Africa. “Young people often have little or no access to legal migration pathways, which leads them to migrate through irregular means.”
Following the latest disaster, Ethiopia’s government issued a warning urging citizens not to take “the illegal route” and to avoid traffickers “at all cost,” instead calling on them to pursue “legal avenues for securing opportunities.” But families of the victims say those pathways remain out of reach.
Meanwhile, the funerals continue in villages across Tigray. For every body recovered, there are dozens still missing.
“Our youth are dying because of this dangerous migration,” lamented Eden’s father, Hadush in an AP report. “They fall victim to the cruelty of traffickers. When will this tragedy come to an end?”
READ ALSO: Dozens missing after boat capsizes in northwestern Nigeria’s Sokoto State