When Ethiopia Came to Hornsey: A Weekend of Pure Magic

By Ethiopian Tribune Reporter  

Over the weekend, North London became a living canvas of Ethiopian colour, rhythm and resilience. More than 3,000 families gathered at New River Leisure Centre for a three-day celebration that fused sport, music, commerce and spirituality into something far greater than the sum of its parts. It was not merely a festival; it was a declaration of presence, a diasporic heartbeat pulsing through Hornsey’s arteries with the kind of authentic joy that makes you believe in community all over again.

 

The Ethiopia Sports and Culture Federation UK had pulled off something remarkable for their 13th anniversary celebration. What began as an ambitious three-day programme on 15-17 August transformed into a masterclass in cultural diplomacy, proving that sometimes the best way to understand a nation is through the laughter of its children and the pride of its elders cheering from the sidelines.

 

The football tournament, contested by fourteen teams from across the UK, offered drama and delight in equal measure. The Black Lion Football Team emerged triumphant, lifting the Mulugeta Kebede Memorial Trophy after a series of matches that felt less like competition and more like communion. Named after the legendary Ethiopian national team player, the trophy carried weight beyond its gold-plated surface, it was about legacy, remembrance, and the kind of sporting excellence that transcends borders.

 

“I’ve never seen this many Ethiopian families cheering side by side in London,” said Dawit Tesfaye, one of the coaches, his voice still hoarse from three days of passionate encouragement. “It wasn’t just about winning; it was about showing our youth that they belong, that they matter.” That sentiment echoed across the pitch, where even the most seasoned spectators found themselves swept up in an emotional tide that had little to do with the final score and everything to do with belonging.

 

Mesfin Alemu, a retired civil engineer who had travelled from Birmingham, captured the weekend’s spirit perfectly: “I came all the way from Birmingham to support my nephew, but I ended up shouting for every team. It felt like Ethiopia had landed in Hornsey.” Indeed, geography seemed irrelevant when faced with such concentrated cultural energy – this was Ethiopia unbound, Ethiopia portable, Ethiopia as a state of mind rather than a place on a map.

 

The music that followed was no less electric. Bisrat Surafel, Tsion Aseffa Nini and the legend Girma Tefera Kassa took to the stage on Sunday evening, transforming the leisure centre into a sonic sanctuary. Their performances were not just entertainment; they were memory in motion, each note carrying the weight of collective nostalgia and the promise of cultural continuity. “Bisrat’s voice reminded me of my grandmother’s radio back in Bahir Dar,” said Selamawit Bekele, a university student who had made the journey from Manchester. “I danced with strangers who felt like cousins,” added Henok Tadesse, a DJ from Leeds, summing up the weekend’s peculiar alchemy of intimacy and celebration.

 

The most poignant moment came when Girma Tefera’s teenage son was lifted onto the shoulders of his mates, singing along with his father in perfect harmony,  a scene that crystallised everything the organisers had hoped to achieve. Here was tradition passing hands in real time, witnessed by thousands who understood its significance without needing translation.

 

Local businesses turned the venue into a vibrant marketplace that would have made Adam Smith weep with entrepreneurial joy. From estate agents to spice vendors, the entrepreneurial spirit was unmistakable, creating an economic ecosystem that felt both organic and aspirational. “I sold out of Kategna special by Saturday afternoon,” beamed Ephreme “Efee” from Stockwell Kategna Restaurant. “People weren’t just buying; they were asking about recipes, about history. It was beautiful.” This wasn’t merely commerce, it was cultural exchange with receipts.

 

The Mayor of Haringey, Councillor Ahmed Mahbub, made a spirited appearance that proved local politics at its most genuine. Engaging with vendors and praising the event’s role in fostering multicultural harmony, his enthusiasm was infectious rather than performative. “This is what London is all about,” he declared, and for once, the rhetoric felt earned rather than scripted.

 

Ethiopian Tribune asked The Mayor of Haringey for his reflections on such events, capturing his unguarded enthusiasm in an interview that revealed genuine civic pride. “A big thank you to the organisers and all the volunteers – they put a lot of hard work and effort into this!” he declared. “I say to everyone watching: please do come to the event when it happens next year. It’s a fantastic day to spend with your community, with your family. Three things I take with me from today’s event: you guys have some of the best food, some of the best coffee, and some of the nicest people! Everyone’s smiling today and everyone’s been so welcoming. One of the best coffees I’ve ever had.”

 

The festival’s international reach was underscored by the planned attendance of Councillor Amsalu Kassaw from Aurora, Colorado, whose last-minute absence due to pressing constituency matters served as a reminder of the global Ethiopian diaspora’s political engagement. His intended presence would have highlighted the transatlantic connections that bind Ethiopian communities from Hornsey to the American Midwest, but the international spirit remained undimmed in his absence. The organisers’ official statement, delivered in flowing Amharic, expressed gratitude that transcended linguistic barriers. They thanked everyone from the security staff who ensured peaceful proceedings to the media professionals who documented every moment, acknowledging even those who faced parking difficulties or brief delays at the entrance – the kind of comprehensive gratitude that speaks to an organisation that understands community building as both art and responsibility.

 

Children raced across the grounds, faces painted in the green, yellow and red of the Ethiopian flag, voices raised in songs that bridged languages and generations. “My daughter learned the Amharic alphabet and ran her first 100m race,” said Rahel Mengistu, watching her seven-year-old collect a medal with the seriousness of an Olympic champion. “She went home tired, proud, and asking when the next festival is.” For many parents, the weekend offered more than amusement; it offered affirmation of choices made and identities preserved across continents.

 

“They saw athletes, artists, and priests, all in one weekend,” observed Emebet Assefa, a mother of three who had driven down from Glasgow. “That’s the kind of memory that shapes identity.” The presence of Circus Abyssinia added an unexpected theatrical dimension, their acrobatic performances providing inspiration for young Ethiopian athletes and reminding everyone that excellence comes in many forms.

 

The Ethiopia Teen and Youth Organisation New Generation UK deserves particular mention for their collaborative spirit, working alongside the federation to ensure the next generation felt not just welcome but central to the proceedings. Their football training sessions for young players created pathways between past and future, tradition and ambition.

 

As the final whistle blew and the last song faded, the community’s gaze naturally turned to the spiritual calendar. Across the UK, Ethiopian Orthodox churches were already preparing for Debre Tabor, also known as Buhe, a feast rooted in the Transfiguration of Christ. Soon, children would be cracking leather whips to mimic the voice of God, singing “Buhe belu ho!” door-to-door, and receiving moolmool from mothers whose own childhoods echoed in these ancient rhythms. Bonfires would be lit to commemorate the light of Christ’s glory, and families would gather to share food, hymns and stories that connect earthly celebration to divine mystery.

 

“The buna smelled like my aunt’s kitchen in Gondar,” said one attendee as the weekend drew to a close. “The scent lingered longer than the speeches, longer than the football chants. It was memory, brewed and served.” That coffee, Ethiopia’s gift to the world’s mornings, became a metaphor for everything the weekend represented: warmth shared, traditions honoured, and connections strengthened one cup at a time.

 

The celebration ended without a single police report, no frayed tempers, no incidents beyond the occasional parking fine, just laughter, music and the quiet dignity of a people who understand how to gather, how to honour, and how to remember. Ethiopia’s decencies prevailed, as they so often do when given space to flourish.

 

In a city that often fragments immigrant experience into isolated communities, this was a rare moment of synthesis. A weekend where joy became the adhesive, and Ethiopia – as land, memory, and myth – was not just remembered but relived with the kind of collective enthusiasm that makes cynics reconsider their positions. The organisers’ promise of return next August already has the quality of inevitability about it, because some traditions, once properly established, become as essential as breathing.

 

This was Ethiopia unboxed and unapologetic, a diaspora at its most confident, and London at its most generous. The kind of weekend that reminds you why multiculturalism, when done with this level of care and pride, remains one of Britain’s most beautiful experiments.