Eritrean Independence Day: A Day of Freedom or Forgotten Promises?

By Luwam Mebrahtu Gebrehiwet

Every year on 24 May, Eritreans around the world mark independence day. It’s a day that commemorates the hard-won victory of a nation that endured one of Africa’s longest and most brutal liberation struggles. After thirty years of armed resistance against Ethiopian rule, Eritrean forces, led by the Eritrean People’s Liberation Front (EPLF), marched into Asmara in 1991. 

On paper, 24 May is a day of triumph, the date when Eritrea became the master of its own destiny. However, for a growing number of Eritreans the day raises a painful question: Should we still celebrate Eritrean independence day?

The answer, for many, is not straightforward. It is shaped by personal losses, the absence of basic freedoms, and the disillusionment with a post-independence reality that has not delivered the promises of the struggle.

The Meaning of Independence: More Than Borders and Flags

At its core, independence is not just about the removal of foreign rule but about establishing a system that guarantees dignity, rights, and a better future for its citizens. Today, Eritrea is considered to be one of the most brutal dictatorships in the world. Countless people have fled, especially the youth. Over half a million Eritreans are currently registered as refugees. Many of the very heroes of the liberation struggle are detained without due process. Eritreans did not bravely fight for three decades just to replace external domination with internal repression. 

State Propaganda vs. Lived Reality

The Eritrean government has turned 24 May into a carefully orchestrated spectacle. Through parades, music, and state-controlled media, the regime portrays an image of unity, pride, and strength. Diaspora communities are often mobilized to participate in events that appear festive on the surface but carry undertones of surveillance and state loyalty.

This annual celebration has become more about state propaganda than people’s freedom. It paints a version of Eritrea that denies the suffering of thousands who are forced into indefinite national service, live in exile, or remain politically voiceless.

For many Eritreans, particularly those in refugee camps or fleeing across deserts and seas, 24 May is a bitter reminder,  not of what was won, but of what was lost or never achieved.

A Nation Built on Sacrifice, Now Trapped in Silence

There is no question that Eritrean independence was achieved through unmatched courage and sacrifice. The EPLF created a revolutionary culture rooted in self-reliance, equality, and justice. Women fought side by side with men. Fighters lived with minimal food, often digging trenches with their bare hands, driven by the vision of a free and just nation. But that vision has not materialized for the vast majority.

Today, Eritrea has no functioning constitution, no free press, no elections since independence, a population under mass surveillance and fear. Even young people born after 1991 often know more about escape routes and asylum procedures than civic rights or national pride. For them, “independence” is a distant concept, disconnected from their daily reality.

Mixed Understandings and Deep Divides

The Eritrean people are not unified in their feelings about Independence Day. Older generations and veterans may view it as a sacred day,  the culmination of their life’s purpose. Young Eritreans  particularly in the diaspora,  may feel conflicted, questioning whether independence without liberty is worth celebrating. Families of prisoners, exiles, and martyrs may mourn on this day, seeing no justice for those who gave everything.

Some Eritreans still celebrate 24 May out of national pride and love for their homeland, not for the government, but for the people. Others reject the notion of celebration entirely, saying: "Celebration is for positive results, not for surviving repression."

So, that brings me back to the question: Should We Celebrate Eritrean Independence Day?

I do not think we should. At least not in the way it is currently presented.

To celebrate is to honor something that has brought about positive change, freedom, or progress. Eritrea’s independence, while a crucial historical moment, has not yet led to these outcomes for its citizens.

We should, however, remember and honor the sacrifice of those who gave their lives for the liberation of Eritrea. Their courage must never be forgotten. But to honor them honestly, we must also acknowledge that the dream they fought for has been hijacked. The true spirit of independence day should be reclaimed, not by glorifying the past alone, but by demanding a better future. One that reflects the ideals of justice, democracy, and freedom for which so many died.

Let this day be not one of blind celebration, but of critical reflection and collective action. Let us speak openly about the failures, mourn the injustices, and work toward a truly full independence, one that liberates both the land and its people. Only when that happens, can Eritreans truly celebrate.

Luwam Mebrahtu Gebrehiwet is an Eritrean human rights advocate and writer. She was born and raised in Eritrea and currently resides in Italy.