My neighbor disappeared into the hallowed halls of Addis Ababa’s Yared music school, never to emerge as a graduate. I used to boast about being friends with someone destined for musical greatness, but now I’m left wondering if studying music is in fact a labyrinth of complexity.

Back when we were just kids, we would discuss music for hours on end, sharing our likes and dislikes. It was a rare occurrence for us to disagree on a song, but when we did, it was like a rift in the very fabric of our musical camaraderie.

As I reflect on my neighbor’s mysterious disappearance into the world of music education, I can’t help but wonder if she’s still trapped in a never-ending cycle of practice rooms and scales. Or perhaps she’s found a new calling as a ghostly presence haunting the halls of Yared, forever searching for that one elusive song we couldn’t agree on.

The dreaded melody of Wisdom, the Quintessential  (ጥበብ ነው ጠቃሚ) was like a relentless lecture from  the whip cracking Yeneta Mesfin of moral (ግብረ ገብ) and Teacher Laketch of science and life (ሳይንስ እና ህይወት) rolled into one, nagging at us incessantly on and off classroom. It was as if the song itself had taken on a life of its own, following us wherever we went, its bars increasing in volume by the day.

The cacophony of voices seemed to surround us, trying to lure us in with their high-pitched calls. It was enough to make even the most patient of souls want to plug their ears and escape to a quieter place from the agony of being trapped in the clutches of such an insufferable tune.

The rattle of scientific jargon and life lessons that accompanied the Saturday morning Ethiopian Radio science program interspersed with the dreaded song was akin to a sour melody crashing the mood we had once united in our shared love for music. Hosted by the illustrious army captain Afework Yohannes, who shared a neighborhood with my mother, the program served as a reminder of her youthful rebellion against schooling.

As a child, oblivious to how the radio actually worked, hearing the voice of someone who shared a childhood with my mom over the airwaves was nothing short of magical. It was like being transported to cloud nine – that is, until the relentless barrage of scientific jargon and off-key melody brought me crashing back down to earth, the experience was akin to a further clatter of music, with every discordant note hitting just the right nerve. As a discordant tune that refuses to resolve, the program was a constant reminder of the ways in which our choices and experiences shape our destinies.

As we listened to Captain Afework drone on, his words muddled with the dreaded song that punctuated his ramblings, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of ennui settle over me. The pompous tone of his lectures on obscure scientific principles only served to heighten the sense of tedium that hung in the air, all I could do was grit my teeth and endure the assault on my senses, longing for the sweet release of silence once the program finally came to an end.

At long last, the hated music piece served as a reminder of the harsh realities of life, a bitter pill that we were forced to swallow week after week. And as much as we tried to tune it out, it lingered in the air like a stubborn stain, impossible to ignore.

As the melody of science and reason played on in the background, I found myself drawn closer to its intriguing tune. It was like a symphony of knowledge and curiosity unfolding before me, a masterpiece of artistry that I couldn’t help but appreciate. However, as I shifted my perspective on the music, seeing it not just as a lesson in education but as a masterpiece of artistry, my friend seemed to retreat, distancing herself from the harmonious notes.

Menelik Wesenachew’s vocal prowess is truly a sight to behold. His skill and artistry create a melodic masterpiece that resonates with the precision of a well-tuned instrument. Each inflection adds a touch of magic to the music, dancing upon the notes with finesse. His ability to breathe life into each word is a lesson in itself, showcasing the power of the voice.

His timing is impeccable, showcasing his mastery of rhythm and cadence. The way he spaces his notes creates a sense of depth and dimension, drawing the listener in with each crescendo and decrescendo. It’s a delicate dance of sound and silence that captures the essence of the music.

One cannot forget Menelik’s use of harmonics, a true marvel of acoustics and physics. The way he manipulates the resonance within his vocal tract and mouth creates a rich tapestry of sound that captivates the ear and stirs the soul.

But what truly sets Menelik apart is his ability to inspire, calling to all who dare to dream.

In Haile Selassie I Theatre, now the National Theatre, Nerćes Nalbandian and his talented co-musicians brought the nostalgic piece to life with soul-stirring instrumentation. The music reverberated through the halls, echoing the legacy of those who have walked its stage before, a testament to the power of music to transcend time and space.

Who doubts that music is not just notes on a page but a living, breathing entity that speaks to the heart and soul. It is a testament to the power of music-making, showcasing the passion and dedication required to create something truly extraordinary.

So here I stand, forever changed by the shifting tones and rhythms of life. Though my friend may no longer be by my side, the music remains, a constant reminder of the bond we once shared and the beauty found in even the most intimidating of melodies.

Contributed by Tadesse Tsegaye