There are many moments I’ve asked myself:
“Why am I doing this?”
When I could’ve chosen a stable job that paid well, allowed me to travel, and spared me the weight of worrying about “impact” or pursuing passion. A life where I didn’t have to deal with fabric suppliers disappearing mid-order, unreliable printing timelines, half-written grant applications, bureaucratic runarounds, or the emotional labor of micromanaging every inch of the process or finding the right team, or arguing over import/export duties.
But I chose this path, or maybe it chose me.
Because no one else was going to stitch this dream for me.
Being a female entrepreneur in Ethiopia isn’t just about business, it’s a series of quiet negotiations, with society, with systems, and often, with yourself. It’s about navigating systems that weren’t built for us. It’s quietly enduring moments when your voice is dismissed, when your questions are ignored in offices where decisions get made or worse, dismissed.
I’ve walked into government offices seeking support or clarity only to have my questions ignored or waved away. I learned, painfully, that competence wasn’t always enough. In some cases, I learned to bring my father to those dreaded government processes, because his presence as a man smoothed the way in places where patriarchy still dictates who gets taken seriously. I didn’t do this out of weakness. I did it out of strategy. I had to choose sanity over pride. Sometimes, the smart way forward is through someone else, if that’s what gets things done looks like. If someone else opens the door for me, and, I choose to walk through it.
It’s not fair, but it’s real.
And I’m not sharing this for pity. I’m sharing it for visibility.
And yet, even with all the frustrations, I believe this journey is worth it. Not because it’s glamorous or gets celebrated with headlines. But because every small win, every inch of progress, chips away at the status quo. Because DolMel ™ isn’t just a brand, It’s a living rebellion, stitched in heritage and resilience. Where it isn’t just an Ethiopian movement. It’s a continental one.
A refusal to accept that we, as #Africans, must always be recipients of secondhand systems, secondhand clothes, and secondhand dreams. It’s about showing that we can build our own, from our roots, with our hands, and through our own stories. It’s about building something from the ground up with intention, not exploitation. About making our stories wearable. About rewriting how the world sees #African creativity, not as a trend, but as a movement.
I believe in growing a community grounded in conscious living and storytelling. I always say our heritage is not static, it’s alive, evolving, and powerful enough to inspire a new future for #Africa. We just need to choose to tell our own narratives.
And yes, it’s hard. It’s often lonely. Because every challenge I face is a thread in the bigger fabric of why I started.
This is not the full story, just another piece of the patchwork.
Thank you for being part of this journey.
Whether you’ve read from the start or are just joining in, I hope this series continues to give you a glimpse into what it really means to build something from scratch, especially when the odds are stacked against you.
Let’s keep going… shall we?
#DolMelWave Continues
