There was a time in my life when I had nothing — no light, no comfort, no certainty about tomorrow.

I was born in Hidi Village, Ethiopia, a small community of 250 families nestled in the Amhara Region. Life there is simple but hard. Families depend on subsistence farming of wheat, coffee, and root crops. There is no electricity, no running water, and few educational resources.

When I was seven, my mother made the most painful decision of her life — she gave me up for adoption, hoping it would give me a chance at a better life. She made that choice out of love, not abandonment. Her sacrifice gave me the opportunity to grow, learn, and dream beyond what was possible in Hidi.

But the journey wasn’t easy. I lived with multiple families, often moving from place to place, struggling to belong, and carrying the ache of separation from my birth family. There were nights I felt completely alone. And yet, through every challenge, people radiated love into my life — mentors, teachers, friends, and strangers who believed in me and gave me hope when I had none.

That love became my light.

Today, I am a Dyer Fellow at Lafayette College, studying International Affairs and Africana Studies, and I’m working to build a nonprofit called Radiate Love — an organization dedicated to bringing sustainable solutions to Hidi Village, the place that raised me.

In 2023, after more than a decade apart, I was reunited with my birth family. Before returning home, I wanted to bring something meaningful — a gift that reflected my gratitude and my desire to give back. I spent three months collecting 575 backpacks for every student at Hidi Primary School. Delivering them was one of the proudest moments of my life.

But when I arrived in Hidi, what struck me most wasn’t just the joy of seeing my family again — it was the darkness.

After sunset, the entire village goes silent. Children stop studying. Parents stop working. Families sit in darkness. My mother’s home was the only one lit — thanks to my older sister, who had worked as a housemaid in Saudi Arabia for 13 years to support our family. When I returned back home to Ethiopia in 2023, my sister Dehnnet bought a solar panel for my Mom.

That one small solar panel changed everything. It allowed my family to gather at night, read, cook, and live with dignity. I realized then that light is not just electricity — it’s opportunity, safety, and hope.

That’s why I started Radiate Love’s first major initiative: “Light Up Hidi Village.”

My goal is to raise $22,500 to buy, deliver, and install solar panels for all 250 households in Hidi.

Just $90 can light up an entire home.

A gift of $5 can join with others to light a family’s future.

This project is about more than solar energy — it’s about empowerment. It’s about giving children the chance to study after dark, giving parents the chance to work longer hours to support their families, and allowing a community to step forward into a brighter future.

I’ve been given so much — access to education, mentors, and endless opportunities. Because of that, I feel an even greater responsibility to extend my hand back to the place where my story began.

Every donation you give will help transform Hidi from a place of darkness to a place of light — literally and symbolically. When you give, you’re not just funding solar panels — you’re fueling dreams, restoring dignity, and continuing the cycle of love that once lifted me up.

Six solar panels installed.

Even today, this is how people farm in Hidi. Even little boys as young as 7, 8 or 9 go out there and farm, just like the boy you see in the picture.

These are the children of Hidi Village. After providing the 575 backpacks from the amazing souls who donated, I spent time with them. Witnessing their joy after receiving a backpack reminded me of the importance of giving back to the community that shaped me.

In this picture are my biological mom and my aunt. The two guys are our neighbors. They are crushing peppers for a special spice called Berbere. Living without modern technology is not easy for the Hidi Community, and they desire change.

am sharing this picture with you because it holds deep meaning for me. Right after high school, I returned home, thanks to the loving people in my life who made a way for me, even those who weren't directly involved. Despite facing setbacks and pain, I am happy to have graduated high school. Moving from home to home was challenging.

When I returned home with the 575 bags, I also brought my cap and gown. One reason was to fulfill my biological parents' dream of seeing me graduate. Another was to show the students at Hidi Primary School that I was once like them, attending the same school. While living in Hidi, I felt trapped, thinking I would always be confined to village life, but God had other plans.

I wanted the students to realize that they are not so different from me and that they, too, can graduate from high school and attend college, as I am doing now. I didn't just want to speak these words to them; I wanted them to understand that I firsthand experienced their situation and understood how lack of resources could hinder their potential.

When I placed my cap on each student, it was a reminder and a promise from me that I would not forget the Hidi Community. It was a pledge that Hidi students would receive every opportunity I have here in the United States. While it might not happen immediately, I wanted to assure them that serving the Hidi Village is not only God's will for my life but also deeply embedded in my heart.

I hope you can see how the lack of opportunities in places like Hidi Village persists, forcing some to repeat the cycle they were born into. I hope this inspires people to radiate love to Hidi while inspiring change.

When I was seven years old and still in Ethiopia, this was the type of home I lived in. It was not comfortable and barely fit my family of three and my biological parents. There are still many homes like this in Hidi and its surrounding area.