Ethiopian Women and Safety: Why Some Change Their Ethnic Identity to Get to Work
For thousands of Ethiopian women employed in the country’s growing garment and manufacturing sector, the daily journey to work involves far more than clocking in and out. It can mean navigating tense public spaces, managing fear, and in some cases, quietly altering their ethnic identity simply to feel safe.
As global garment production steadily shifts from Europe to Asia and now increasingly into Africa, Ethiopia has emerged as a key destination. The government has invested heavily in large industrial parks, positioning the country as a competitive, low-cost manufacturing hub within reconfigured global value chains. International brands have followed, attracted by favourable policies and inexpensive labour.
Yet beneath this narrative of industrial progress lies a troubling reality.
Unlike long-established manufacturing centres, Ethiopia’s rapidly expanding industrial zones are often built without adequate safety nets. Transport systems are poorly protected, worker safety policies are limited, and little attention has been paid to the country’s complex ethnic dynamics. For women, these gaps can turn an ordinary commute into a daily risk.
Our findings reveal that some women feel compelled to adjust how they present themselves in public spaces, changing the language they speak, modifying their accent, or even adopting a different surname, just to avoid harassment or confrontation on their way to low-paying jobs. In extreme cases, ethnicity itself becomes something to conceal rather than celebrate.
When women must temporarily erase or disguise their identity to travel safely, it exposes a deep failure in the system meant to support them.
This is not simply a matter of personal choice or resilience. It raises uncomfortable questions about the true cost of global industrial expansion and who bears its burden. When global industries arrive without adapting to local realities, the consequences fall disproportionately on women, particularly those already navigating economic vulnerability.
It is difficult to call this progress.
Industrialisation cannot be measured solely by factory output or foreign investment figures. It must also be judged by the dignity, safety, and wellbeing of the workers it relies on. A system that forces women to change who they are, even briefly, to earn a living demands urgent scrutiny.
Beyond workplace safety, this issue touches on deeper questions of belonging and identity. Is altering one’s ethnic identity an act of agency, or a response to social pressure and insecurity? What does it say about everyday life when safety depends on how you speak, dress, or introduce yourself on a bus ride to work?
Not every woman faces such extreme circumstances. But the fact that these strategies exist at all underscores the pressures created by moving through strained public spaces in a rapidly industrialising society.
If Ethiopia’s industrial growth is to be truly transformative, it must go beyond economic gains and address the human realities on the ground. That means investing in safe transport, gender-sensitive policies, and protections that recognise local social dynamics, so no woman has to change who she is just to make it to work.
