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It is unbecoming of any candid observer to
say Addis Abeba stands - truly and literally
- to represent its name. Although young, it
is far from conveying an image that is
blossoming as its founder, Empress Taitu
Bitul would have loved to see. Addis Abeba's
woes are blames exclusive to none of the
successive regimes since the late 19th
Century; neither were they the creation of
any of its 29 mayors.
The troubles start from the beginning of its
history; the city that prides itself as a
diplomatic capital of Africa, and once was a
small village with the name Finfine, has
gone through a process that has been rather
odd, as Milena Batistoni and Gian Paolo
Chiari, two Italian historians have noted.
Indeed, it came into being around 1886, with
the birth far from being a town but more of
a gigantic camp on an escarpment. There were
at first huts and tents, including one by
Emperor Menelik, "who drove the first pole
of his wooden tent into the ground where his
imperial palace would be built", witnessed
De Castro, an Italian medical doctor who
visited Addis Abeba at its foundation.
Addis Abeba has had a chaotic beginning, in
almost every respect. There was no attempt
to have a designed beginning for its growth
until the occupation of the Italians in
1936. The first master plan for Addis Abeba
was developed in late 1930s, by two Italian
architects, I. Guidi and G. Valle. They had
sought the growth of Addis south bound,
hence the birth of neighbourhoods such as
Casa Populare, Casa Inches, and Campo Nova.
Subsequent to Ethiopia's liberation from the
occupation, a British seasoned urban
planner, Partick Abercrombie (sir), had
taken the challenge of making sense to Addis
Abeba's urban management nightmare. Launched
the work of developing a master plan four
years after the liberation, in 1945, Sir
Abercrombie had tried to come up with a plan
to serve a population of 460,000; he
believed the city would have required no
revision until 1984. To manage the growth in
population, he suggested the formation of
satellite towns at Qaliti, Kotebe, Gafarsa,
Rapi, Yeka and Kolfe, to accommodate yet
another 300,000 residents.
This was not to be the last; two firms, the
British Bolton Hennessy & Partners, and a
French group led by L. de Marien, had tried
to review the earlier master plan.
Nevertheless, none of the original efforts
were able to project the population
explosion the city would have seen at the
end of the 20th Century. The existing master
plan, also known as Comprehensive
Development Plan (CDP), was finalized in
1994, after a 10-year work; it has been
granted a lease of life up until 2020.
Through out these processes, the city has
been expanding physically and accommodates
an alarmingly increasing size of its
population. However, it has hardly evolved
to become the modern metropolitan centre it
ought to be.
This is not to say that there is no change
for the better. To be fair, Krikor Hovian,
the Armenian exile responsible for the
construction of the earlier bridges and
roads in Addis Abeba, after his arrival in
1904, would have marvelled at how far the
city has developed in its road networks,
particularly over the past eight years.
Hovian would
have seen a road network stretched from
central Addis Abeba to Addis Alem; and from
Arat Kilo to Entoto, as well as the British
Embassy during his years which now has a
network length of 2,200Km, including over
200 bridges.
Nevertheless, considering the gravity of the
problems, whatever has been achieved so far
is a little above inconsequential. And
nowhere is this more glaring than the city's
public transport infrastructure. It is poor,
frustrating and unproductive. Addis Abeba's
public transport infrastructure has received
literally no meaningful investment.
In the absence of mass transporting rail
transits, and very low ratio of private
vehicle ownership, for 90pc of Addis Abebans
under absolute poverty, affected by poverty
or in the low income bracket, walking is the
most preferred means of transport involving
60pc of the trip, sometimes regardless of
the distance; an average of 1.5Km. After
all, 80pc of Addis Abeba's population is
young, under the age of 40. The city's also
poses topographic challenges to those who
would like to use a bicycle, as is customary
in many of the other towns, particularly in
the south, east and western parts of the
country.
Addis Abeba's transport infrastructure is
home to over 500 buses, more than 14,000
privately owned taxis, close to 90,000
private vehicles, and nearly 2,000 trucks as
well as an estimated 500 buses and minibuses
entering the city from other regions on a
daily basis. This is not including the 500
midibuses bought from China a year ago. In
addition, there are 300 horse ridden carts
mostly visible in Qaliti area and 5,000
heads of donkeys active in carrying
merchandises to and from markets.
Combined, these have dismal meaning to a
population of over 2.5 million (a very
conservative estimate), claiming close to
four per cent of the entire population but
enormously concentrated.
They claim 60pc of the nation's benzene
consumption (growing by an annual 29pc as
opposed to the national average of 7.6pc),
and 18pc of diesel (growing annually by 16pc
as opposed to 2.41pc of the national
average).
Ironically, Anbessa City Buses Enterprise,
the oldest public transport in the city and
the lone intercity operator subsidised by
the city administration, covers 40pc of the
need for public transport, while the
privately operated taxis; heavily dominated
by 12-seater minibus' and midibuses try to
claim the remaining share; which covers an
estimated 1.5 million passengers a day.
These passengers are believed to dedicate
close to 10pc of their household income on
transport cost, according to a study
conducted in 2007, by Meron Kassahun, a
postgraduate student at the Addis Abeba
University (AAU).
With the limited network of roads, Addis
Abeba's public transport system is prone to
painful congestion and inefficient mobility.
It has become a norm among its residents to
blame the bungling transport in the city for
not being prompt during meetings and
reporting late to their duties. A crippling
inefficiency at workplaces is helplessly
accepted attributed to unavailability of
public transport services. Any boss who is
exposed to the number of commuters who
physically push and shove each other during
rush hour could have no courage to demand
employees be punctual.
It is clear that the existing public
transport infrastructure, whether owned by
the state or operated by the private sector,
is too feeble to absorb the exploding size
of Addis Abeba's population. It was a short
lived response of the authorities' to
procure 500 buses from China and dispatched
them into the system, through the transfer
of ownership and their privatization. Long
before they become free of their debts, many
of them are now out of operation, parked
inside the garage of AnbessaCity Buses
Enterprise, in need of spare parts. Simply,
they were proven to be not long-lasting, and
a bad choice of the spending of taxpayers'
money.
There is little on the ground to indicate
that there are indeed a team of
professionals in charge of managing the
city's transportation theatre. As it
appears, the whole business of the
transportation network, vehicle circulation
and passengers are left to their own fate.
The city's traffic police officers have
never blocked and reopened routes judging
the flow of traffic; they simply run their
business as much by default than anything of
a design.
"A city bus carrying well over a 100
passengers can be stuck in a traffic jam on
a busy street next to a sedan carrying just
one person," Meron superbly observed.
It is indeed depressing to see that the
city's transport managers appear to be
devoid of the customary knowledge that lanes
should be segregated at least during rush
hour for shared taxis, buses, and private
vehicles.
It is time for the city administration to
think of a lasting and meaningful
intervention, both in terms of policy and
management.
It could start with laying down the
foundation for public transport
infrastructure serving medium and long term
purposes.
In the long term, the federal government
should be thinking a spending of substantial
amount of pubic fund in building a mass
transport system. This public investment
ought to parallel its investments in urban
housing and roads constructions. A policy of
promoting satellite towns in places such as
Sendafa, Dukem and Burayu could also help
ease the concentration of population in
Addis Abeba and thus offset the migration
from rural areas to the capital. It is good
to see that other towns such as Hawassa,
Bahir Dar and Mekelle are on a promising
path.
In the short term, however, city officials
should work hard in breaking down the
intense concentration of passengers in few
specific areas. Arat Kilo, Piazza, Stadium,
Megenagna, Mexico Square, Saris and Tor
Hailoch are where transport authorities must
begin their surgical work. They need to
build major terminals in various outposts
for public transport; Addis Abeba deserves
to have one major and two feeding terminals
in each of the 10 districts equipped with
all the facilities such as waiting rooms,
ticket offices, toilets, shops, and eatery
outlets. Each district could let these
facilities out to private operators. Not
only will the city design an income
generating scheme to the districts, it could
also create business opportunities to small
and medium enterprises that offer jobs for
many.
The city council should write a public
transport policy that should facilitate
loans and provide incentives to private
investors; the latter could import buses -
never mind the cost so long as they are
durable - with carrying capacities of over
100 seats that circulate within designated
zones in each district. This could hopefully
cut the huge traffic concentration on
certain areas, with certain terminals
designated as transits.
In the absence of these policy and operation
responses, and perhaps more helpful
suggestions by experts, we are afraid Addis
Abeba is heading into a brink of jam. That
will be unproductive and more expensive to
fix than the investment put to oil its
transport bloodlines. |
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