Feature Commentary: The Solemn Charge of 2026 – Beyond Strength, Toward Sanity

The plea is simple, repeated like a mantra or a prayer: 2026, 2026, 2026. In these three repetitions, writer Yaadasaa Badhaasaa Kutuu captures a weary hope, a desperate focus, a pinpointing of time as the final arena for change. “Let this year be different” is not a cheerful New Year’s toast; it is an ultimatum delivered to history and to those who shape it.

The commentary begins with a universal truth—we have one life, finite chances—but quickly sharpens it into a political scalpel. This is not about personal resolutions, but about the terrifying leverage of political power. When the author states that every decision by a leader can ripple out to affect the entire world, it is less an observation and more an indictment of the casual brutality and negligence that have defined so much governance, particularly in contexts of conflict like Ethiopia.

Here, the argument makes a crucial pivot. It dismantles the antiquated, corrosive model of the African “strongman”—a figure of raw power, often devoid of vision, whose strength is measured in control rather than in the security and prosperity of the people. This model, the commentary argues, is not just outdated; it is catastrophically inadequate for our complex, interconnected era. The world’s needs have evolved, and so must its leaders.

The call is for a new political literacy. The required curriculum is not machismo or ethnic arithmetic, but emotional intelligence, compassion, and a forward-thinking approach. It demands leaders who are diagnosticians of society’s ills, not just amplifiers of its grievances. This is a profound shift from politics as a theater of domination to politics as a discipline of stewardship.

Thus, the charge for 2026 is specific and revolutionary: adopt a progressive approach to the past. This means not being enslaved by historical grievance or triumphalist narrative, but learning from it with clear eyes to break its cycles. It means elevating the dull, unglamorous pillars of functional society—the rule of law, transparency—above the flash of charismatic authority. The ultimate metric is heartbreakingly basic: improving the lives of people suffering from “years of misguided political decisions.”

The closing crescendo—”No more war, no more suffering”—is the raw, unfiltered cry that underpins the entire intellectual argument. The yearning for “the year of unity,” “the year of compromise,” is a direct repudiation of zero-sum politics. It recognizes that true strength now lies not in defeating an enemy, but in the harder task of building a common peace. The bloodshed, the author insists, must not just be mourned; it must become obsolete.

2026, 2026, 2026. This commentary frames the coming year not as a mere passage of time, but as a moral deadline. It is a plea for the political class to finally grow up—to trade the childish, destructive game of strongman politics for the mature, healing work of sane and compassionate governance. The difference we are asked to believe in is not a small change; it is the difference between a past of suffering and a future of peace. The year is now here. The test begins.