Ethiopian Easter

Fasika: Ethiopian Orthodox Easter (Tensae) Documentary Script

Historical and Religious Context

Ethiopian Orthodox Easter, known as Fasika (ፋሲካ) in Amharic (also called Tensae meaning "Resurrection"), is deeply rooted in one of the world’s oldest Christian traditions. Christianity took hold in the Kingdom of Aksum in the 4th century when Saint Frumentius – called Abba Selama (Father of Peace) by Ethiopians – converted and baptized King Ezana, leading the nation to embrace the faith. Since those early days (ዘመነ ፍሬምናጦስ), the Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo Church has celebrated the Resurrection of Christ as the cornerstone of its theology. In fact, Fasika is considered a more important feast than Christmas, as the Death and Resurrection of Jesus are seen as the fulfillment of God’s promise and the triumph over death. The very name “Tewahedo” signifies unity – originally referring to the unified divine-human nature of Christ – and the Paschal victory of Christ unites the faithful in joy and hope each year.

Narrator: Against a backdrop of ancient stone churches and flickering beeswax candles, the history of Tensae comes alive. We see centuries-old manuscripts and hear Ge’ez chants echoing. The narrator’s voice explains how a faith brought to Ethiopia by a Syrian missionary became a pillar of national identity.

From the reign of Emperor Ezana onward, Ethiopia’s identity interwove with Christianity. The story of Abune Selama, Kesate Birhan (“Revealer of Light”), as Frumentius is honorifically known, is taught to every child – a tale of providence that led to a nation’s conversion. Through him and his successors, the theology of Resurrection took deep root. Easter (Fasika) came to symbolize not only Christ’s victory over the grave but also Ethiopia’s spiritual link to the earliest Apostolic traditions. In Ethiopian Orthodox belief, Jesus’s crucifixion on Friday and rising on Sunday are the ultimate manifestations of divine love and power, redeeming humanity. Thus each year, Fasika is approached with profound reverence, intense spiritual preparation, and jubilant celebration of the Living Savior.

(Soft Ethiopian Orthodox hymn plays in the background, as the camera pans over Lalibela’s rock-hewn churches.)

The Resurrection is the theological heart of Ethiopian Orthodoxy. “Kristos Tenestwal!” – Christ is risen! – proclaims the priest at the stroke of midnight on Easter, to which the congregation responds “Bergit Tenestwal!” – Truly, He is risen! in jubilant affirmation. This belief in Christ’s victory over death has sustained the Ethiopian faithful through centuries of trials. From the earliest days when Ethiopian monks illuminated manuscripts with the story of the empty tomb, to modern times, Tensae has been a beacon of hope. In the Ethiopian Orthodox teaching, Christ’s resurrection is not merely remembered; it is lived – it signifies renewal of the soul and the nation. The holiday’s Amharic name “Tensae” (ትንሣኤ) literally means “to rise,” reflecting the rising of Christ and the spiritual uplifting of the faithful.

(The narrator stands in front of an old church doorway decorated with colorful tapestries, holding a prayer staff as churchgoers pass by in white garments.)

Narrator: In Ethiopia, Easter is more than a date on the calendar; it is the culmination of a journey of faith. It connects directly back to the time of St. Frumentius and King Ezana. It is the day that defines the very essence of Tewahedo Christianity – the day of victory, of hope, and of unity in a land that has cherished this faith for ages.

Holy Week Chronology and Traditions

Ethiopian Orthodox Christians observe a rich tapestry of traditions in the lead-up to Fasika, especially during Holy Week (known as Himanot or Semune Himamat in Ge’ez). The journey begins long before Easter Sunday, with a rigorous fasting period and a series of holy days that reenact the final events of Jesus Christ’s life on earth. Below is the chronological path from the fasting season to the joyful morning of Fasika, highlighting key days and their Amharic names:

• Abiy Tsom (ዓብይ ጾም) – Great Lent: The preparation for Fasika starts with a 55-day fasting period known as Abiy Tsom, meaning the “Great Fast”. For nearly eight weeks before Easter, the faithful abstain from all animal products – no meat, no dairy, no eggs – as a spiritual discipline. This fast, longer than that of most other Christian traditions, includes an extra 10 days historically added by Emperor Heraclius in the 7th century (honoring a national fast to reclaim the True Cross). During Abiy Tsom, believers devote themselves to prayer, repentance, and charity. They typically eat only one vegan meal a day, often after 3:00 p.m., sustaining themselves on tsom (fasting) dishes like shiro wot (chickpea stew) and misir (lentil stew). The spiritual purpose of this regimen is to purify both body and soul: faithful are taught that it’s not only the stomach that must fast, but “our tongues, our hearts and minds as well,” focusing on virtue and shedding unkind thoughts. Abiy Tsom culminates in Holy Week, and by then participants have shared in a mini-passion, feeling a fraction of Christ’s sacrifice.

• Equle Tsion (እኩለ ጾም የተካሄደ በዓል) – Mid-Lent Celebration: Roughly halfway through the long fast, Ethiopian Orthodox Christians observe a moment of encouragement often referred to as Equle Tsom or Debre Zeit (Mount of Olives). This mid-Lent Sunday marks the spiritual halfway point of the 55-day journey. Churches commemorate it by recalling Jesus’s prophetic sermon on the Mount of Olives about His Second Coming – a reminder of why the faithful endure the fast. Fresh grass or palm leaves may adorn church floors on this day as a sign of renewal, and clergy offer special prayers of strength to help the flock persevere through the remaining fast. Though less famous than the days of Holy Week, Equle Tsion is cherished as a joyous break in an otherwise austere season, symbolizing that the journey toward Calvary is already half accomplished. Worshipers might sing hymns a bit more cheerfully and exchange a hopeful “Melkam Abiy Tsom!” (Happy Lent!) knowing that Fasika draws nearer.

• Hosa’ena (ሆሳዕና) – Palm Sunday: The final Sunday before Fasika is Hosanna, Ethiopia’s observance of Palm Sunday. This day commemorates Jesus Christ’s triumphant entry into Jerusalem, riding on a donkey while crowds spread palm branches and shouted “Hosanna!” (meaning “save us” or “praise”). In Ethiopia, it is a vibrant and beloved feast that also signals the start of Semune Himamat (Holy Week). Church services on Hosa’ena are especially elaborate: after the Gospel readings, priests bless fresh palm fronds and distribute them to the congregation. The churches are adorned with palm leaves and fresh grass; the very floors are carpeted in green to symbolize the palms laid before Christ. Worshippers receive the palms and often knot them into small crosses or rings, which they wear on their heads or arms during the procession. Dressed in their finest Yehabesha libs (traditional white cotton garments), young and old join in singing the ancient hymns of Hosa’ena. A joyful procession takes place around the church yard: clergy carry ornate crosses and tabots (replicas of the Ark of the Covenant) under colorful umbrellas, while the faithful wave their palm crosses and chant in Ge’ez and Amharic, re-enacting the scene in Jerusalem. This mix of reverence and jubilation on Palm Sunday sets the tone for the emotional rollercoaster of Holy Week — from cheers of “Hosanna in the highest!” to the sorrow of the Crucifixion and back to the triumph of the Resurrection in a week’s time. (Children’s voices singing “Hosanna” fade in, and visuals show worshippers with palm headbands encircling an ancient church.)

• Tsome Hamus (ጾመ ሐሙስ) – Maundy Thursday: Holy Thursday, called Tsome Hamus in Ethiopia, commemorates the Last Supper of Jesus with His disciples. It is a day of profound solemnity and humble service. In Ethiopian Orthodox tradition, this is the only day during Holy Week when a full Divine Liturgy (Kidase) is celebrated, because it marks the institution of the Eucharist by Christ. On Thursday morning, churches hold a special mass remembering how Jesus blessed bread and wine and gave them as His Body and Blood to the apostles. Many faithful partake in Holy Communion on this day, having fasted and prepared themselves. Another moving ritual on Tsome Hamus is the washing of feet: following Christ’s example of humility, priests symbolically wash the feet of twelve parishioners (often older members or the poor), reenacting Jesus washing His disciples’ feet. This act, accompanied by the reading of Jesus’s words “As I have done for you, so you should do for each other,” deeply touches participants, reinforcing the values of humility and love. The evening of Maundy Thursday transitions into a somber vigil. It is on this night that Jesus prayed in Gethsemane and was arrested, so Ethiopian churches hold candles-lit prayers and “Sigdet” prostration services late into the night. Worshippers chant haunting hymns reflecting Christ’s agony; one well-known hymn in the Ethiopian Church on this night is “Werede Mezmur”, which parallels Jesus’s sorrow. By the end of Tsome Hamus, the altar is stripped and darkened, bells fall silent, and a heavy stillness looms – the community readies itself for the tragedy of the next day.

• Siklet (ስቅለት) – Good Friday: On Friday of Holy Week, known in Amharic as Siklet (meaning “Crucifixion”), the Ethiopian Orthodox faithful enter into a day of intense mourning and prayerful sorrow. Good Friday is the climax of the fasting discipline – a day when many believers refrain from all food and water entirely until the evening, in memory of Christ’s suffering. Starting from early morning, churches are filled with worshippers dressed in dark clothing or plain white, heads bowed in penitence. Massive prayer sessions run from morning until sunset. Clergy read the Gospel accounts of Christ’s trial, crucifixion, and death, often chanting lamentations. The congregation participates actively in the mourning: it is customary to perform repeated prostrations (known as Sigdet). One might see hundreds of men and women standing, then bowing fully to the ground in unison, rising and bowing again, over and over – sometimes one hundred or more prostrations through the course of the day. These physical acts of devotion, tiring as they are, help the faithful share in Christ’s agony and express repentance. A particularly poignant Ethiopian hymn called “Qidassie” is sung, describing the anguish of the Virgin Mary at the foot of the cross, often moving listeners to tears. Good Friday in Ethiopia is also marked by unique local traditions of penitential absolution: by late afternoon (around 4 p.m.), after hours of prayer, it is common for congregants to approach priests for confession. In many churches, priests then pat the believers with slender olive branches as they kneel. This gentle tapping with olive leaves symbolizes the whipping of Christ – a ritualistic way for the faithful to partake in His pain, even as they receive absolution for their sins in that moment. As the sun sets on Siklet, a hush falls. The church bells that rang in mournful tones now cease. The tabot (ark) is wrapped in black. Jesus has been laid in the tomb. Many believers will continue praying into the night, contemplating the sacrifice at Golgotha and awaiting the promise of dawn. (The scene shows a silhouette of a cross against a darkening sky, as a distant chant of “Werebbu” – an Ethiopian lament – echoes.)

• Kidame Shur (ቅዳሜ ሹር) – Holy Saturday: Saturday is a day of quiet vigil and hope. In Ethiopia it’s called Kidame Shur, literally “Resting Saturday,” signifying the day Christ’s body rested in the tomb. It is as if creation holds its breath. During the daylight hours of Holy Saturday, churches hold few services; instead, many of the faithful spend the day in personal prayer or reading scripture, reflecting on the harrowing of Hell and the promise of resurrection. Some congregations might chant parts of the Book of Psalms or passages from the Old Testament prophecies that are seen as foretelling Christ’s descent to defeat death. Families at home use this day to make final preparations for the great feast to come – houses are cleaned thoroughly (a symbol of purifying one’s heart), and cooking for the next day quietly begins. By late afternoon, an air of anticipation grows. Candles and oil lamps are prepared for the night’s vigil. Then, as darkness falls on Saturday evening, the solemn mood begins to shift to one of expectation and vigilant joy. Around 6 or 7 p.m., people start gathering at the church again, this time dressed in white traditional clothes, carrying candles. This is the start of the Fasika Vigil – an all-night church service that will carry them from darkness into the light of Resurrection. Throughout the night, priests, deacons, and choirs lead the congregation in prayers and hymns. The chant of “Qidusan kidasu” (Holy, Holy is the Lord) resonates as incense swirls in the air. The liturgical drama often includes the announcement of Resurrection in the early hours: shortly before midnight, the clergy might dim all lights, then suddenly ignite a bright flame (sometimes from flint or the New Fire tradition) to symbolize Christ’s light bursting from the tomb. At this climactic moment – midnight of Easter – the head priest joyously shouts “Kristos Tenestwal!” (Christ is risen!), and the entire congregation erupts in response “Bergit Tenestwal!” (Truly, He is risen!). Bells ring out wildly, drums and sistrums (tsenatsil) begin to shake rhythmically, and ululations (elelelelu!) from the women fill the night. The somber, sorrowful tone of the prior days is swept away by an almost tangible joy. Holy Saturday has given way to Easter Sunday. Immediately, the Divine Liturgy of Fasika commences in the early hours after midnight amid this exhilaration.

• Fasika Night to Morning – The Resurrection Celebration: The late-night vigil transitions into the Easter Sunday celebration. In the wee hours (often between 12 a.m. and 3 a.m.), the Ethiopian Orthodox Church conducts the full Easter mass – a truly festive liturgy. The church that was dark and mournful now glows with dozens of candles and lanterns. Clergy don their brightest robes, sometimes switching to white or gold garments symbolizing glory. The tabots (sacred replicas of the Ark) that were shrouded are now unveiled and lifted high, and a procession circles the church grounds three times, representing the women who went to Jesus’s tomb three days after His death. The hymns are now songs of victory; one famous Ethiopian chant of Resurrection goes: “Egzio maran, tenesa, tenesa!” meaning “Lord our Master, rise, rise!” The congregation might dance in place, gently swaying and clapping in the uniquely Ethiopian eskista style (shoulder dance), though within the reverence of the service. By the end of the liturgy, many worshippers who have been fasting not just meat but even avoiding food and drink for days, line up to receive Holy Communion – this will be their first taste of food (the Eucharistic bread and wine) after a long Passion fast. Around 3:00 a.m., with the service concluded, people exchange greetings of peace and jubilation. Friends and strangers alike might hug and say, “Melkam Fasika!” (መልካም ፋሲካ, Happy Easter!). Then, finally, it’s time to break the fast. Families hurry home in the pre-dawn hours, where the first feast of Easter awaits. Traditionally, a chicken may have been slaughtered right after the midnight proclamation so that a rich doro wot (chicken stew) could simmer during the liturgy. Upon returning, the head of the household often cuts and shares a special thick round bread called Difo Dabo, marked with a cross on top, to begin the meal. They might sample a bit of the stew with this bread to gently revive their bodies. Then, after a short rest until sunrise, the community will begin the full day of feasting and rejoicing. (The camera shows a montage: church bells swinging, people laughing and embracing in the early morning light, and a family at home gathered around steaming platters of food as dawn breaks.)

Fasting and Food Customs

One cannot speak of Fasika without speaking of fasting and food, two sides of the same coin in Ethiopian tradition. The long period of self-denial during Abiy Tsom makes the joyful eating on Easter all the more meaningful. This intertwining of fasting and feasting is central to understanding Ethiopian Orthodox culture.

During Abiy Tsom (Lent), observers follow perhaps the strictest Christian fasting regimen in the world. For 55 days, Orthodox Ethiopians consume no meat, no poultry, no eggs, no butter or dairy – essentially a vegan diet devoid of all animal products. In addition, many fast from dawn until typically mid-afternoon each day, taking only one modest meal once the day’s church prayers are over. The purpose of this is not merely dietary; it is deeply spiritual. As an Ethiopian deacon explains, the fast helps “suppress the desires of the flesh” and turn the mind toward God. By eating simple foods like lentils, vegetables, and injera (the sourdough flatbread staple) without spicy meats, the faithful aim to cool the body’s passions. The church teaches that fasting also involves refraining from sin – “to fast with our hearts and tongues” – so during this time people focus on extra prayer, reading scripture, giving alms, forgiving others, and seeking forgiveness. The ubiquity of fasting has even shaped Ethiopian cuisine: a whole category of dishes known as “tsom megeb” (fasting foods) developed over centuries. These include shiro (a chickpea flour stew simmered with spices), atkilt wot (slow-cooked cabbages, carrots, and potatoes), misir wot (spiced red lentils), and enguday tibs (sautéed mushrooms) – all flavorful, hearty, and vegan. Even popular urban foods have fasting versions – one finds fasting pizza with no cheese, or fasting burgers made of vegetables. This culinary creativity ensures that while believers renounce meats, they do not suffer unduly; they can still share enjoyable meals that keep up their strength and community spirit until the fast is lifted.

When the clock strikes midnight on Fasika, the long fast dramatically ends. After weeks of restraint, the Ethiopian Easter celebration is a grand banquet of rich and indulgent foods – a powerful symbol of spiritual abundance and joy. In the dim pre-dawn, once back from church, families gather around low tables to break their fast together. The meal usually starts humbly: with a piece of dabo (bread) and maybe a sip of water or wine, to gently awaken the stomach. But soon, the table is laden with traditional delicacies. Doro Wot (ዶሮ ወጥ) – the legendary Ethiopian spicy chicken stew – is the star of the Easter menu. This dish is so special it’s often reserved for feast days. Preparing doro wot is labor-intensive: onions are simmered for hours, seasoned with berbere (a potent red chili spice mix) and niter kibbeh (spiced clarified butter), then chicken and boiled eggs are added, the eggs stained a rich brown from absorbing the stew. In many households, exactly 12 boiled eggs are added to the doro wot, symbolizing the twelve apostles – a subtle reminder that the joy of Easter comes with the commission to spread the Good News. Alongside the chicken, there will be lamb and beef aplenty. In fact, after nearly two months of abstinence, Ethiopians “seem eager to make up for the meatless days”. A typical Fasika feast includes ye-beg wot or tibs (lamb stewed or fried with herbs), and perhaps siga wat (ox/beef stew) or key wot (spicy beef) served on large round trays lined with injera. It’s not uncommon for families to prepare kitfo – a delicacy of minced raw beef marinated in spiced butter – or simply to enjoy slices of raw tenderloin dipped in spice (a tradition for those who can afford it, as raw meat is considered a luxury). Indeed, Ethiopia is one of the few cultures where eating raw meat is a proud custom, especially on holidays when freshness is assured. The phrase “ሥጋ በቅርስ መብላት” – “feasting on meat” – captures the enthusiasm of Easter Sunday.

To complement the meats, there are also rich non-fasting versions of dishes. For example, what was a vegetable stew during Lent might now be made with a generous dollop of kibe (butter) or chunks of meat. Bright yellow gomen (collard greens) might be sautéed with lamb. Even the injera might be made from a mix that includes a bit of wheat (considered more festive) in addition to the usual teff grain. And dotting the injera platter are often hard-boiled eggs removed from the doro wot, which guests gleefully take – eating an egg at Easter is thought to be a special blessing.

No Ethiopian celebration is complete without drink and merriment. On Fasika, the strictly vegan Tsome beverages (like water or hibiscus tea) give way to traditional alcoholic drinks. Many households brew a special batch of Tella (ተላ), a home-made beer from fermented barley or teff grain, dark and malty, often served in a jebena (clay pitcher). Others bring out Tej (ጠጀ), the golden sweet honey wine mead, fermented with gesho leaves – a drink of antiquity that is said to have been enjoyed in the courts of King Ezana and Emperor Haile Selassie alike. Tej is traditionally sipped from a berele, a rounded glass flask. For those wanting something stronger, there is Araki or Katikala, a clear distilled spirit akin to grappa, which certainly warms the celebration. It’s not unusual for an elder to make a toast saying “Egziabher Yebarkachihu!” (God bless you all) before everyone takes a swig. All the while, coffee is brewing too – Ethiopia’s gift to the world, coffee plays a ceremonial role in any get-together. On Easter morning, after the first round of food, families often perform a full coffee ceremony: toasting green coffee beans over coals, wafting the aroma to guests, grinding them with a mortar, and brewing three rounds of strong, black coffee. Incense burns and mingles with the rich coffee scent, as people savor conversation. Children, giddy to finally have meat, run around playing or sit nibbling pieces of kolo (roasted barley snacks) and biscuit.

The feast of Fasika is not confined to one household – it’s inherently communal. Neighbors and relatives visit each other throughout the day, carrying portions of food to share. In the countryside, this is often formalized through a practice called “Qircha” – where families who slaughtered an animal for Easter will distribute portions of meat to less fortunate neighbors. It is common to send a platter of your best wot to the family next door and receive another in return, fostering a spirit of generosity. After all, the ethos of Fasika is not only celebration but also sharing. As one Ethiopian proverb says around Easter, “Ye’abro Ager wot, be’abro be’erat yibelta” – roughly, “stew shared among neighbors is savored with mutual love.” Thus, the fasting taught self-control and empathy; the feasting now teaches charity and communal joy.

In summary, Ethiopian Easter’s food customs dramatically contrast the austere lead-up with the abundant conclusion. The 55 days of vegan fasting highlight spiritual devotion, and then the explosive return of meat and dairy on Fasika showcases gratitude and festivity. This rhythm of restraint and indulgence binds the community together: every person partakes in the same national fast and then rejoices in the same national feast. No one is left out – even the poorest try to have at least a little meat on Easter, and community support often makes that possible. The fasting and the foods are two chapters of one story, a physical narrative of sacrifice and resurrection that mirrors the very Gospel itself.

(Montage: Close-up shots of bubbling doro wot in a clay pot, women brewing coffee and pouring tej, a family laughing around a table breaking injera together. Then a gentle transition to an earlier scene of a quiet Lenten meal of shiro and injera – underscoring the before-and-after.)

Narrator: The table tells the story: for two months it bore humble vegan fare, and now it overflows with meat and spice. In Ethiopia, fasting and feasting are both acts of worship – first to purify the soul, then to glorify God through joyful celebration. From the bitter of sacrifice to the sweet of abundance, the journey of Fasika is tasted as much as it is believed.

Celebrations and Social Gatherings

Ethiopian Easter is not just a religious event confined to church rituals; it is a social and cultural festival that vibrantly spills out into homes, villages, and city streets. After the long church vigil and the hearty pre-dawn meal, Easter Sunday unfolds as a day of community celebration throughout Ethiopia.

In the morning, families dress in their best attire. Traditionally, white clothes are preferred, symbolizing purity and the joy of the Resurrection. Men don white shammama or gabi (hand-woven shawls) over their shoulders, and women wear elegant Habesha Kemis – white cotton dresses often trimmed with colorful Ethiopian cross patterns. Many also wrap a netela (lightweight shawl) around their heads or shoulders, a customary church garment, but on Easter even those who might not wear it year-round put it on for the occasion. The sight of throngs of people in gleaming white outfits walking in the morning sun is uplifting – it’s as if the whole country is resurrected in whiteness and light. Amid these crowds, you’ll notice children particularly excited: girls with new braided hairstyles and ribbons, boys in little suits or cultural tunics, all beaming because they know this day means treats and freedom to play.

Easter day in Ethiopia is marked by visiting and sharing. It’s a time when families open their homes to relatives, friends, and neighbors. An Ethiopian saying goes, “እንኳን ደስ አላችሁ” (Enkwan des alachu – “How joyful that you have arrived [at this day]!”), which is a common greeting as people meet on Easter morning. Starting from mid-morning, visitors begin to trickle in. Ethiopian culture places great emphasis on hospitality, so every guest is welcomed with a coffee ceremony and more food. A typical household might conduct several coffee ceremonies this day – one after another – as different groups of visitors arrive. It’s impolite to refuse coffee, so many happily indulge in multiple tiny cups well into the afternoon, each round accompanied by friendly conversation and maybe a piece of difo dabo bread or kolo. Children roam from house to house too, knowing they might get a piece of candy or a boiled egg or some homemade cookies from various aunts and grandmothers. In some communities, youngsters might gather to sing traditional songs door-to-door (comparable to Christmas caroling) and receive small gifts.

The atmosphere everywhere is one of music and cheer. In towns and the capital Addis Ababa, you might hear modern Ethiopian songs about Fasika blaring from radios – joyful tunes blending Amharic pop with traditional beats. In villages, elders might break into spontaneous ululation or play the masinko (a one-string fiddle) and kebero (drums) to accompany spiritual songs. Some of these songs have been passed down for generations, praising the resurrection or playfully teasing those who didn’t fast strictly. It’s not unusual to witness an impromptu eskista dance circle form in a courtyard, with young men and women shaking shoulders and heads rhythmically while others clap in a ring around them. Laughter is abundant; the sorrow of Good Friday is a distant memory now.

One beautiful aspect of Ethiopian Easter is the interfaith and community harmony. Ethiopia has a diverse religious landscape, and during Fasika, even non-Christians often partake in the social revelry. For instance, Muslim neighbors might visit their Orthodox friends to congratulate them on Easter and taste the special dishes (just as Christians visit Muslim friends after Ramadan). It’s a time when the communal bonds overshadow differences – everyone recognizes Fasika as a national holiday. The government even hosts public celebrations. You might find a market fair or cultural show in the city: traditional dancers performing on a stage, vendors selling Easter gifts (like baskets, spices, or clothing), and people just enjoying the public holiday.

One of the most significant social aspects post-church is the slaughtering and distribution of meat, which often becomes a communal activity. In rural areas, at dawn on Easter, groups of men go to slaughterhouses or animal markets. Bulls, oxen, goats, and lambs – which have been fattened up through Lent – are now brought for sacrifice. Often, five or six families will pool money to buy a large ox together and share the meat, ensuring each family gets enough for the feast. This pooling is both practical and festive; it is usually accompanied by jovial bartering and collective butchering. The term “Kircha” (or Qircha) describes this tradition where neighbors jointly purchase an animal and split it evenly. At the break of day, one might witness a line of households each carrying their allotted cuts of fresh beef wrapped in banana leaves or cloth, marching home triumphantly. Meanwhile, families that are better off financially will sometimes slaughter an extra sheep solely to give the meat away to those who couldn’t afford their own – a charitable Easter practice that exemplifies the holiday’s spirit of sharing.

Back at home, the cooking fires continue to burn all day. Mothers and daughters (and many fathers too) prepare second and third rounds of meals for the continuous stream of guests. A midday Easter lunch could include additional dishes like gored gored (flash-fried cubes of beef in butter), alecha wot (a milder stew for those who can’t handle spice), fresh salads to balance the heavy meats, and perhaps local beverages like birz (a mild honey drink) or even modern sodas. Desserts are not a huge part of traditional Ethiopian fare, but people might enjoy fruits or a British-influenced cake from the pastry shops in cities.

As the afternoon progresses, the focus often shifts outside. The pleasant weather of Ethiopian spring (usually falling in April) encourages outdoor gatherings. In the countryside, after feasting, families might go out to the fields or common spaces to relax. Children play games – one popular game around this time is genna (similar to field hockey, traditionally played around Christmas but sometimes during other festivals too) or simply chasing one another in new holiday outfits. Young adults might organize a mahber (informal association) party, contributing drinks and enjoying each other’s company with less formality. Everywhere the mood is relaxed and festive.

As evening falls on Easter Sunday, the sound of distant church bells might ring again for a short evening prayer, but many people by then are contentedly tired from the day’s events. Families gather one last time for dinner – often reheating the same celebratory dishes, because Ethiopian stews only get more flavorful with time. There is storytelling and reminiscing: elders might tell the children how Fasika was celebrated in their youth or recount the religious stories behind the traditions. In some areas, people light a bonfire with the dried palm fronds from Palm Sunday, symbolically burning away the old to welcome the new life after Resurrection. The night sky fills with stars as songs continue in some homes. In others, perhaps an Ethiopian Orthodox TV broadcast of holiday chants or a concert plays softly in the background. By the end of the day, one can truly feel how Tensae has touched every aspect of life – spiritual, physical, and social. It reaffirmed bonds: between God and people, and among the people themselves.

(Visual sequence: Families hugging goodbye after visits, a wide shot of a village with smoke gently rising from cooking fires and church in the background at dusk, children dozing off in their mother’s laps with smiles on their faces.)

Narrator: In the highlands of Ethiopia, Easter is not contained by church walls. It lives in the smiles of neighbors sharing a meal, in the feet of dancers pounding out rhythms of joy, in the innocent play of children, and in the extended hand of charity. The Resurrection is celebrated as a living, communal experience. From quiet prayer circles to exuberant dance circles, Fasika weaves a beautiful fabric of faith and culture that dresses the entire nation in joy.

Post-Easter Traditions

After the grand day of Fasika, the religious season continues in Ethiopia with additional observances and a noticeable shift in community life. The forty days following Easter are known as the Season of Joy – a time when fasting is suspended and various cultural activities bloom. Key among the post-Easter traditions are Dagmawi Tensae (Second Easter), the start of the wedding season, and a general period of culinary indulgence before regular fasting disciplines resume.

Dagmawi Tensae (ዳግማዊ ትንሣኤ) – “Second Easter”: In the Ethiopian Orthodox calendar, the first Sunday after Fasika is celebrated as Dagmawi Tensae, which literally means “Second Resurrection.” This observance corresponds to what many other Christians know as Thomas Sunday, commemorating the Apostle Thomas’s encounter with the risen Christ one week after the Resurrection. Ethiopian tradition holds that on this day, Christ appeared again to the disciples (and to doubting Thomas), reaffirming the truth of His rising. Thus, faithful attend church the following Sunday in almost Easter-like spirit – albeit on a smaller scale – to remember that the miracle of Tensae was confirmed and continues. They call out “Dagmawi Tensae Addis Amet!”, meaning “Happy Second Easter New Year,” humorously treating it almost like a New Year of renewed life. In some regions, people will wear their white clothes again and maybe share a special meal, often finishing whatever remains of the previous week’s feast. Mothers adorn their children’s hair with leftover palm fibers or fresh flowers as they did on Fasika, symbolizing the continuity of the blessing. While not as elaborate as the main Easter, Dagmawi Tensae carries a joyful tone; priests might sprinkle holy water on the congregation as a renewal, and families exchange the greeting “Enkwan Dagmawi Tensae aderesachu” (“Congratulations on [reaching] Second Easter!”). It’s a reminder that the Resurrection event is ongoing – a hope that lives on, week after week. (Archival footage shows a congregation on the Sunday after Easter, still quite full, singing a resurrection hymn, and the priest censing the altar.)

Wedding Season Begins: Fasika not only concludes the fasting period but also ushers in a time of festivities such as weddings. In Ethiopia, weddings are prohibited or at least avoided during Lent and other major fasting periods, because weddings are joyous occasions that involve dancing, feasting, and usually consumption of meat and alcohol – all incongruent with the somber, ascetic mood of fasts. Therefore, as soon as the fasting season is over, a flurry of weddings is scheduled. The period right after Easter is one of the most popular times of year to get married. Churches may host multiple wedding ceremonies a week or two after Fasika. It’s common to see newlywed couples in full bridal attire showing up at popular photo spots in Addis Ababa – for instance, the gardens of the Holy Trinity Cathedral or under the flowering jacaranda trees – in the weeks following Easter. This surge in weddings is tied to practical belief as well: the 50-day span after Easter until Pentecost has no fasting days at all, not even the usual Wednesday and Friday fasts. In essence, it’s “open season” for celebration. Families take advantage of this to plan big events like weddings so that everyone can eat and drink freely. The weather in late spring is also mild, adding to the appeal. So one might say Easter opens the gates to matrimony – love blooms as the lilies bloom. Culturally, it’s understood that a marriage beginning in the glow of Tensae is blessed by the joy of the Resurrection. In rural areas, you might find collective weddings (multiple couples marrying in one ceremony) held by churches for those of humble means, taking advantage of the community’s post-Easter generosity.

No Fasting (Ye’metsom Birr) for Fifty Days: From Easter Sunday onward, the Ethiopian Orthodox faithful enjoy about 50 days of feasting until the next major fast begins. This period, spanning from Fasika to Pentecost (known as Qomos to Paraklitos locally), is sometimes called “Dergu acom” meaning “no fasting.” During these seven weeks, the regular Wednesday and Friday fasts are suspended. This is a reflection of the early disciples’ joy when the risen Christ was with them for forty days and then the coming of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost – it is considered inappropriate to mourn or fast while celebrating such divine presence. For the society at large, this is a time of culinary freedom. Restaurants and homes freely serve meat any day of the week; the mentally embedded caution (“Can I eat this, is it a fast day?”) relaxes for a while. It’s a time when many choose to travel or hold events without worrying about fasting restrictions. The Ethiopian Orthodox Church actually encourages the faithful to continue in the joy of resurrection throughout these fifty days, fostering fellowship meals and gatherings. The change is palpable: markets that were relatively quiet during Lent now bustle with people buying meat and dairy. Butchers rejoice in increased business. One could humorously call it a national “meat spree” – after all, Anadolu Agency once headlined, *“Ethiopians celebrate end of Lent, welcome back meat”*. This period also often coincides with the harvest of some crops, so it’s convenient for farmers to hold Thanksgiving feasts, known as “Bezuna”, sharing the bounty of their fields in the absence of fasting rules.

Pentecost and Return to Normalcy: The 50th day after Easter is Pentecost (Paraklitos), commemorating the descent of the Holy Spirit. In Ethiopia, Pentecost is celebrated with a special service but not nearly as large as Fasika. However, in some places, they also mark the Monday after Pentecost as “Dhaha Saint Michael” or “Puagume start” – signifying the next chapter. After Pentecost, the regular pattern of fasting resumes with the Fast of the Apostles (starting per tradition on the Monday after Pentecost). This fast varies in length (up to 40 days) and is not as strictly observed by all, but devout folks will again refrain from meat on Wednesdays and Fridays at the very least. So, roughly two months after Easter, the community gradually returns to its normal rhythm of alternating feasting and fasting. But before that happens, there is one more interesting observance:

Two weeks after Easter (by local custom) falls “Dagmawi Sene”, often around the time of Saint George’s Day (Giorgis), which in some communities is considered an auspicious time to slaughter oxen and bless cattle. This is more rural folklore than official church canon, but it aligns with the abundance following Easter.

Also, Ethiopian Orthodox faithful recognize every Sunday as a little resurrection feast. In the liturgical calendar, each Sunday between Easter and the next big feast has a name (such as Dagmawi Tensae, Silite (Second) Sunday, etc.), and faithful greet each other with “Melkam Awu’araj” (Happy first/second/etc. Sunday) as the resurrection spirit continues weekly.

Resumption of Fasting: Finally, after these approximately two months of unfettered feasting, the regular fasts resume in full. The Church reminds everyone that while Christ has risen, Christians are still called to prayer and fasting as they await His return. So, usually by mid-summer, the Wednesday/Friday fasts (commemorating Judas’s betrayal and Good Friday respectively) are back on the calendar. Life returns to the steady beat: fast, feast, fast, feast – each in its season, each with its purpose. Some joke that Ethiopians have “11 months of fasting and 1 month of feasting,” which is not far off, given roughly 250 fasting days a year for the very observant. But after the glorious climax of Fasika, people’s spirits are renewed, carrying them forward through the rest of the year’s cycle of work and worship.

(We see a montage of a joyful wedding party dancing, then the calendar pages flipping, markets busy with meat, and then a contemplative scene of an Orthodox believer lighting a candle at Pentecost, symbolizing the return to spiritual reflection.)

Narrator: Fasika’s influence lingers long after Easter Sunday. It opens a window of celebration – a second Easter, a season of marriages and communal feasts, a break from abstinence – before gently guiding the faithful back into the rhythm of devotion. In Ethiopia, the joy of the Resurrection doesn’t end on one day; it reverberates for weeks, in songs of praise each Sunday and in the laughter of newlyweds, until life gradually returns to its humble, reverent pace.

Closing Segment

As our journey through the Ethiopian Orthodox Easter comes to a close, we reflect on the profound significance of Tensae in Ethiopian life. In this ancient land, where faith, history, and culture are inseparably woven, Fasika is more than a holiday – it is the beating heart of the nation’s spiritual identity. It embodies sacrifice and renewal, sorrow and ecstatic joy, communal unity and personal devotion. From the high chants in the rock-hewn churches of Lalibela to the humble breaking of injera in a farmer’s hut, the spirit of Resurrection unites Ethiopians across all walks of life. It is often said here that “የፋሲካ ሥራ በሁሉም የተሳተፉት ነው” – “the work of Easter is shared by all.” Indeed, everyone—from devout priests and deacons to mothers preparing feasts, from fasting children learning discipline to friends of different faiths joining in celebration—everyone has a part in the tapestry of Fasika. The result is a cultural mosaic unlike any other: a celebration deeply reverent yet vibrantly alive, steeped in ancient ritual yet bursting with human warmth.

Narrator: Standing atop Entoto Mountain overlooking Addis Ababa, the narrator gazes at the sunrise on Easter morning.
Narrator (voice-over): “In Ethiopia, Tensae is the dawn after a long night. It is a people’s testament that from fasting comes fulfillment, from suffering comes glory, and from death comes life everlasting. To witness Fasika here is to witness a living faith – one that has endured through centuries and continues to thrive in every song, every prayer, every shared cup of coffee on this holy day. It is at once deeply Christian and uniquely Ethiopian – a testament to the resilience and joy of a culture that treasures hope above all.”

(Cue a montage of final scenes: A priest holding up a cross silhouetted by the rising sun, a group of women in white singing and ululating with smiles, children chasing each other with palm rings on their heads, and a close-up of an elder’s face, eyes closed in prayerful gratitude. The soundtrack is a mix of church bells and the melodious Ethiopian Orthodox hymn “❤️እልል በእግዚአብሔር ተስፋዬ❤️” – “Rejoice in the Lord, my hope.”)

In the end, the story of Ethiopian Easter is a story of renewal and unity. It’s the annual miracle that brings a nation to its knees in prayer and then to its feet in dance. It reaffirms identity – as Ethiopians, as Orthodox Christians, and as part of a human family that finds meaning in shared rituals of faith. From the historic churches of Axum to the bustling streets of Addis, when Easter comes, a light of promise shines anew. Melkam Fasika! – Happy Fasika – may the year ahead be blessed by the hope and solidarity born of this cherished celebration.

(The narrator, now on screen, smiles and delivers the final lines in front of a festive crowd at Meskel Square where an Easter cultural event is happening.)

Narrator: “Melkam Fasika, ye Ethiopia lijoch!” – Happy Easter, children of Ethiopia! – May the peace and joy of the Resurrection be with you all.

“This cultural feature is brought to you by Yebbo Travel and Tour, part of Yebbo Communication Network, helping travelers for more than 25 years. Want to book your next flight? Call 619-255-5530.”