Today, I marched in a Pride parade. It was a dream, but it felt so real.  

We started very early at Meskel Square. Thousands of us gathered quietly as the sun rose. I wore my best Habesha cloth that had small rainbow threads to the edge. My girlfriend held my hand tightly. We were so excited.  

Lesbians on motorcycles got the pride started. People carried Ethiopian flags mixed with rainbow flags. Elders blessed us. Young people filled the streets with laughter and songs.  

As we walked down Bole Road towards Millennium Hall, something amazing happened. Shopkeepers on the side of the streets waved and smiled! Some people sat on the side of the road and encouraged us to keep walking.  

The best part was the music. Music from every region in our country played loudly. We danced as we walked. Everyone sang new words to old songs: “Our love is true! We walk forward together!”  

At Millennium Hall, it became a huge party. Music, drinks, food, sweets, and so many people dancing. Elder women offered hugs to those who wanted to feel loved at that moment.  

Lights filled the sky, as fireworks announced the end of the day.

Then I woke up. My scarf is just plain white again. The law still calls love like mine a crime. The streets are quiet.  

But the dream stays with me – the sound of singing, my girlfriend’s hand in mine. For that dream-march, no one was afraid. We were free. We belonged.  

This is my deepest hope: One day, this dream will walk out of my heart and into Meskel Square. Until then, I hold onto to my dream.