For centuries, Armenians and Ethiopians have shared more than passing encounters or diplomatic footnotes. They have shared faith, trust, exile, refuge, and an enduring sense of recognition that predates modern borders. Long before Addis Ababa became a capital city, Armenians were already present in Ethiopia as monks, craftsmen, traders, musicians, and envoys, welcomed not as strangers but as people bound by a shared spiritual and cultural worldview. That long history still lives today in the voices of Ethiopian Armenians who continue to describe themselves not in terms of two halves, but as a whole.
“I am 100 percent Ethiopian and 100 percent Armenian. There’s no 75/25,” said Vahe Tilbian, reflecting on an identity that has never required negotiation. “I am fully and equally both.”
Vahe Tilbian was born and raised in Addis Ababa and represents the fourth generation of his family to call Ethiopia home. On his mother’s side, his family arrived in Ethiopia in the late nineteenth century. On his father’s side, his grandfather survived the Armenian Genocide as a child, fleeing through Syria before settling in Ethiopia in the early 1930s.
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Vahe often recounts how his grandmother was pregnant during that journey, giving birth along the way, a detail that anchors his family history not just in survival but in motion. “Whenever I talk about home, it is Addis Ababa. Always,” he said.
Growing up in the 1980s, Vahe came of age as the Armenian community was already shrinking. He attended the Armenian community school before completing secondary education at Sandford School. Later, he studied abroad in Canada, but the idea of staying far from home was not one he ever truly considered.
“From the first day of university, I knew I would finish, graduate, and move back home,” said Vahe.
His fluency in Amharic often surprises people.
“I always have to explain where I’m from. I speak Amharic fluently, so what people hear and what they see doesn’t connect,” he explained. That disconnect has followed him into his artistic life as well. A musician and dancer, Vahe became known for blending Ethiopian and Armenian musical traditions, performing songs in both languages and reworking melodies across cultures.
“My music is always fusion. I try to introduce Armenian music to Ethiopia and Ethiopian music to Armenia,” he told The Reporter Magazine.
That sense of fusion extends beyond music. Vahe also speaks with pride about the lasting material and cultural contributions Armenians made to Ethiopia.
“We can never deny the introduction of jewelry-making or carpet-making here. These two were 100 percent introduced,” he said, pointing to the legacy of Armenian artisans. “The jewelry making is called ‘erban sera’ in Amharic, and there is a theory that the name comes from Yerevan, the capital of Armenia. The best jewelers today were taught by Armenian jewelers.”
He also places coffee within this same continuum of cultural contribution.
“The same way, coffee was discovered here in Ethiopia and taken through the Middle East to Europe, there is historical proof that Armenian merchants took coffee from Ethiopia to Europe,” he said, adding that “they had some of the first coffee shops in Europe.”
Reflecting on that shared history, he remarked, “We take pride in that, saying we were part of that historical story. Sometimes I say, ‘You’re welcome, Europe.’”
That same sense of belonging carries into the life of Tamar Kevorkian. Born in Addis Ababa to parents and grandparents who were also born in Ethiopia, Tamar is a fourth-generation Ethiopian Armenian. She attended the Armenian community school and Sandford before studying business management at Addis Ababa University.
In 1998, Tamar and her mother opened Aladdin Restaurant in Bole.
“In the beginning, it was small, seating 26 people,” she said. “After one year, it grew to around 100.”
Though redevelopment later forced the restaurant to move from its original location, Aladdin continues to operate in the Old Airport area, sustained largely by loyal Ethiopian customers.
“We have Ethiopian customers who were kids and are now grown up,” she said. “I wouldn’t have come all this way without them.”
Beyond Aladdin, Tamar co-founded Eco Omo Safari Lodge in South Omo with an Italian partner and works in IT and business development. She also represents the Armenian IT Union in Ethiopia and Africa.
At home, cultural blending is instinctive rather than symbolic.
“Growing up, we had both Ethiopian and Armenian food,” she said. “One of my favorite foods is shiro. I love shiro. I can have it every day.”
Similarities between the two cultures extend beyond food. Tamar notes that Armenians, like Ethiopians, place great importance on communal presence, especially during life’s milestones.
“Weddings or mourning are huge gatherings,” she said. “Nobody understands a five-person wedding. They are never less than 100 people.”
The deeper roots of this shared world are carefully documented by Vartkes Nalbandian, an engineer by training, a businessman by profession, and a historian by devotion. He is the son of Nerses Nalbandian, the renowned composer and arranger whose work shaped modern Ethiopian music.
Vartkes has worked in the chemicals, leather, and real estate businesses and has authored significant works documenting the Armenian experience in Ethiopia. His memoir, I Want to Die with a Flag: Ethiopia: My Delusions and Disillusionment (2019), details his life through three Ethiopian regimes (Imperial, Derg, and EPRDF), exploring themes of statelessness and his deep connection to his birth country.
He later co-authored Armenians of Ethiopia: A Compendium (2023) with Mary Nalbandian, a detailed historical compilation documenting the roles and traditions of Armenians in various Ethiopian cities from 1515 to 2020. He also serves as a deacon at St. George Armenian Orthodox Apostolic Church located around Seba Dereja near Piassa.
“The history of Armenians and Ethiopians goes back many millennia,” he said. “I will not go back to the Trojan War. I will start in the first century when Armenians and Ethiopians had religious interaction through Christianity.”
That shared faith, he explained, became foundational in the early fourth century.
“Both churches believe in the Orthodox faith of Miaphysitism, the fully divine and fully human nature of Jesus Christ in one body; what Ethiopians call Tewahedo,” he told The Reporter Magazine. “On these principles, the two churches have been close since the fourth century.”
In the 7th century, he noted, Armenian monks fleeing the Islamic invasion of their homeland “escaped to Ethiopia and found refuge here,” further strengthening the spiritual ties between the two nations. By the 14th century, Armenians were present at St. Estiphanos Monastery of Hayq in Wollo. Among them was the notable Aba Giorgis Armenawi, who “wrote an epic poem about St. Mary,” reflecting the depth of Armenian monastic life in Ethiopia.
Armenians also played key roles beyond the religious sphere. “Apart from religious interactions, which continue today, Armenians have served Ethiopia as envoys and trade delegates trading with Ethiopia and for Ethiopia,” Vartkes told The Reporter Magazine.
One of the most prominent figures was Mathewos the Armenian (Mathewos Armenawi), who “was sent to Portugal as an envoy to curb the expansion of the Ottoman Empire into Ethiopia.” In 1543, his mission coincided with the arrival of a Portuguese contingent of 500 men led by Christopher da Gama, grandson of Vasco da Gama.
“They were able to fight the forces of Ahmed bin Ibrahim, known as Ahmed Gragn. It was a diplomatic mission in which Mathewos was successful,” Vartkes explained.
With the Portuguese also came Jesuit monks, who attempted to evangelize in Ethiopia. “Ethiopians didn’t like this, and the Jesuits were finally sent back,” he said, noting that it was one area where the two nations collaborated.
Armenians, however, continued to enjoy special trust. Morad, an Armenian envoy of Emperor Fasilides, “went to the Mughal Empire, Batavia, and the Dutch East Indies for trade delegations and diplomatic missions. Morad was an Armenian from Aleppo. He served in Ethiopia for 60 years, under different emperors,” Vartkes added.
After the Jesuits, Ethiopia became more cautious with foreigners. “Except for Armenians,” said Varktes.
During the 17th and 18th centuries, Armenian travelers and historians continued to visit Ethiopia, “writing books which can serve as the basis of Ethio-Armenian history,” he explained.
In the mid-19th century, Armenian priests were involved in British efforts to negotiate with Emperor Tewodros II. “Though the mission was not ultimately successful because of General Napier’s military intervention, the emperor was originally pleased to meet them,” Vartkes noted.
Among the most influential Armenians in Ethiopia was Boghos Markarian, whom he called “the father of the community.” Markarian served Emperors Yohannes IV and Menelik II and traveled extensively as an envoy and trader.
“For his services, Menelik gave him vast land at Zequala, where he died and is buried,” Vartkes said.
Armenians also left a lasting mark in craftsmanship and industry. In the 1870s, Dikran Ebeyan arrived to craft the crowns for Emperor Menelik II and Empress Taytu. Around the same period, Sarkis Terzian, based in Harar, played a key intelligence role. “After Emir Abdullahi lost the battle at Chelenqo, Terzian approached the camp of Emperor Menelik to inform him of the Emir’s escape,” Vartkes told The Reporter Magazine.
Terzian later became close to Menelik, “was given a mayoral position in Biokobbo, and was also given the monopoly of transportation and oil research south of Ethiopia,” he added.
Terzian’s contributions extended to military and industrial efforts.
“In 1894, Emperor Menelik sent Sarkis Terzian to Europe to bring armaments to Ethiopia. Before the Battle of Adwa, Terzian brought large quantities of ammunition and guns,” Vartkes explained.
He also recounted an industrial achievement: “In 1905, when the European contract was cancelled, Emperor Menelik was very disturbed. Sarkis Terzian said, ‘Don’t be disturbed, I’ll bring you the steam engine.’ He took permission and went to Dire Dawa, brought the steam engine, and it started clearing the roads of Addis Ababa. By 1915, it was parked, clearing the road to Addis Alem. The steam engine remained near Abune Petros Square. The area is now called Sebara Babur because that babur (steam engine) remained there for many years, losing its parts, becoming a sebara babur (broken train) instead of a working one.”
From the earliest Armenian monks to envoys, priests, craftsmen, and industrial innovators, Vartkes told The Reporter, the Armenian community “has played a continuous and trusted role in Ethiopia’s religious, diplomatic, and economic history.”
Perhaps the most enduring cultural contribution came in 1924 with the arrival of forty Armenian orphans from Jerusalem, later known as the “Arba Lijoch”. Led by Kevork Nalbandian, they formed Ethiopia’s first official imperial band.
“Kevork Nalbandian composed the national anthem, with lyrics by Yoftahe Kebede,” Vartkes said. His brother later joined him, followed by his son Nerses Nalbandian, whose arrangements followed Ethiopian modalities so closely that, as Vartkes noted, “that is why some people call him the father of Ethiopian music.”
Vahe Tilbian sees his own work as part of that lineage. “I prefer the sad songs, the minor songs,” he said, naming Mahmoud Ahmed among his inspirations. “But what I perform and what I listen to is completely both Armenian and Ethiopian.”
He recalled declining casting offers that required him to play Italian or foreign roles during the occupation era.
“They would offer me roles as Italians or foreigners,” he said, “but I’m Ethiopian.”
Today, the Armenian population in Ethiopia is very small. Institutions such as St. George Armenian Orthodox Apostolic Church, the Ararat Armenian Sporting Association, and the former Kevorkoff Armenian School continue to anchor communal life, but the community itself continues to shrink.
“What I can say with certainty is that the number of Armenians in Ethiopia is declining,” said Vartkes.
In recent years, the presence of a resident Armenian ambassador, Sahak Sargsyan, has helped sustain cultural and diplomatic engagement, and Vartkes believes that much of the community’s future interaction with Ethiopia will increasingly be coordinated through the Armenian Embassy.
At the same time, long-standing Armenian institutions continue to serve as anchors.
The Kevorkoff Armenian School, which operated from 1918 until 2020, has since been converted into a cultural center, though it has not yet officially opened. “
“There will be Armenians in Ethiopia for at least a few more generations,” Vartkes told The Reporter Magazine, “and the community and the embassy will support one another in maintaining Ethio-Armenian relations.”
For those who carry this history, identity is not a question of balance but of continuity.
“Whenever I am in Armenia, I am the Ethiopian. Whenever I am here, I am the Armenian,” Vahe said. It is a statement that echoes across generations, shaped by faith, culture, work, and memory, and carried forward by a community that has learned how to belong to two homes without ever leaving either behind.
