Jebena: The Cultural Symbolism and Humanity.  

It is a beautiful artifact that cradles the spirit of the ancient sun, woven with the vibrant threads of Ethiopian and Eritrean tales, where the dance of coffee and frankincense meets the rhythms of resilient hearts. In the tapestry of time, their shared history intertwines, birthing stories of unity and strength. It is a precious vessel that beckons the world to find a home in the embrace of their shared traditions, a timeless melody that unites in the enchanting dance of their heritage. How can one lifeless object become so essential and tie people together? How can one unconscious object become so valuable for so many generations? It has been part of our life, and when we pass it down to the next generation, eventually, it becomes a culture. That is what our ancestors did. Most of the time, it is made by our mother's hand, clay, and decorated with detailed patterns, making it a stunning piece of art. It is called Jebena. Jebena is a traditional artifact that Habeshans, specifically the Tigray people, created to make coffee. It is part of culture and history, which makes us, the Habeshan, proud of our history. The Jebena, a traditional Habeshan coffee pot, is not just a vessel for brewing coffee; it holds a special significance in Habeshan culture as a symbol of hospitality, community, and womanhood. Typically used during coffee ceremonies, where people gather and share stories, ideas, and experiences. The Jebena is an essential part of these ceremonies, as it helps bring people together, facilitate conversation, and promote unity. Beyond its practical use, the Jebena is a powerful symbol of connection, love, and peace, and it holds a special place in the hearts of Ethiopians and Eritreans worldwide. 

 

Throughout my childhood, I had the privilege of witnessing the unique designs of the Jebena in various Habeshan households. Despite their differences, they all share one thing: they are all like precious infants to our mothers. The Jebena, with its delicate curves and complex patterns, holds a special place in our cultural heritage and is a symbol of the warmth and hospitality of our people. Habeshan's mother keeps the Jebena in a very sacred place, the locked cabinet, and no one dares to touch this Jebena except our mothers or permitted users. Our culture has a unique tradition of performing coffee ceremonies three times daily - in the morning, afternoon, and evening. And it's not just about having one cup of coffee and calling it a day. No, we take it seriously. We drink three cups of coffee each session, each with a unique name. The first cup is called Abol, the second Tona, and the third Berka. So, in every round of the ceremony, we drink coffee three times and give each cup the respect it deserves by honoring it with its specific name. During the traditional coffee ceremony, the brewed coffee is well-known for its bright and lively acidity, intricate flavors, and unique notes of berries, chocolate, or sometimes evocative wine. It's often praised for having a pleasing scent that captures Ethiopia and Eritrea's diverse and vivid landscapes. The women make coffee with Jebena whenever we have a coffee ceremony.

​

Whenever I see my mother or respected elder make the coffee, I think about how Jebena is related to womanhood. I have always believed that the Jebena is the mother of the little traditionally designed cups (sini). Holding the cold cups in my hands, I feel a chill running down my spine. But the moment I pour the hot, aromatic coffee from the Jebena, the cups feel alive and warm, as if they were all waiting for this moment. It's like a mother's warm embrace that makes everything feel better. Without the Jebena, the cups would be empty and lifeless, waiting to be filled with the rich, brewed coffee that comforts my soul. Maybe our mothers are so strict about this artifact because it represents them as no antique did. Perhaps the meaning of Jebena for young women is to prepare themselves for the next chapter of their lives. 

 

Our forefathers made a sacred commitment that they passed down to future generations throughout history. They took great pains to ensure this vow would persist through any misfortune. It was a promise filled with reverence and upheld with the utmost dedication, a heritage that still influences our lives today. Unfortunately, the Habeshan community broke Jebena's promise to stay peaceful and care for each other for better or worse. I think there is little left of the pledge; I cannot see the Jebena as I used to. How can one fight a brother/sister just because of the region they grew up in? It is just a piece of land, isn’t it? You can be born and raised in a specific place; however, it means nothing if you do not value the people who helped you walk on both feet. It means nothing if you do not treasure what your ancestors fought for because, at the end of the day, we are all the same species and came from the same ancestors. So, what is your reason for destroying, backstabbing, lying, and creating wars in the same land where you were born, as your brother/sister did? It seems that no one wants the chaos you’re assembling. It does not matter what you call yourself; you can call yourself by the region name you grew up in, Oromian, Tigraian, or Amharan, but by the end of the day, that region you grew up in is still in the country. So, why create wars? Why create hatred? If Oromia, Amhara, Tigray, and other regions still exist in Ethiopia. Ethiopia's eighty-one regions are like the veins of a body, each vital and interconnected.

 

Witnessing this divided world, I cannot imagine Jebena's feelings when she sees her children fighting. Possibly, the Jebena felt broken, shattered, or smashed. I do not see Jebena as I used to know her, the one that’s beautiful with its detailed designs and shines when it is put on fire. I notice that the Jebena now lies shattered because no one has been there to keep it in a sacred place because everyone is blinded by hatred and wars. The cups have gathered dust, and some are broken because of the outside environment, and they no longer have the same shine as their mother, the Jebena. It is possible that the meaning of Jebena may have shifted slightly. If we view the mother as the Jebena and her children as the cups, then perhaps we can see Ethiopia as the Jebena and its people as her children. 

 

I have always wondered why it seems so challenging for humans to live in harmony with one another when even a simple object like a clay pot can embody the qualities of love, friendship, and peace. It is fascinating to note that despite being made from the same clay and serving the same purpose, each Jebena is unique in its design and decoration. Each is carefully crafted with complex patterns, colors, and shapes, making it unique. And yet, as humans, we struggle to maintain peace and unity despite being the same species and possessing the ability to reason and communicate. It is a puzzling paradox that begs the question: what can we learn from the humble Jebena about spreading love and creating a peaceful coexistence among ourselves? Perhaps we can understand that despite our differences, we can all come together and serve a common purpose, just like the Jebena. If we adopt the resilience of the Jebena, there may be a possibility of repairing the broken pieces of our lives, just like the Jebena. It can withstand heat, pressure, and even occasional falls, which has become a source of inspiration for many people. As I observe the Jebena, I sense it is undergoing a gradual yet steady healing process. It reminds me that our shattered lives, too, can be mended with time, patience, and self-belief. We can begin by acknowledging our inner strength and resilience, just like the Jebena. We must strive for a harmonious coexistence where diversity is celebrated and learn from each other's unique qualities. This way, we can repair the Jebena and the fragments of our lives and move forward with renewed strength and determination.

 

 By The Untold Story