

Coffee spread to the highland areas of Sidamo where the trees are newer. In my home area, the trees can be 65-85 years old. Trees this mature no longer produce good, flavoursome coffee but farmers have been resistant to replanting due to the perceived interruption in their income. On a side note, in response to this issue Kerchanshe now runs a range of ...
In those days, during the peak of harvest, buying or selling coffee was strictly prohibited. It was a time dedicated solely to the gathering of nature’s gift. Only after the main harvest concluded—around Tir (January)—would the Coffee and Tea Authority officially open the market, setting prices at the district level. But what happened after the main harvest was something even more profound—a custom that blended social ethics with compassion. It was known as “Kotee.”

When the final cherries were picked and the baskets emptied, the community entered the “Kotee” season. During this time, poor families and young people were permitted to visit coffee farms or nearby coffee forests to collect leftover cherries from the ground. Farm owners were forbidden from gathering these remnants themselves. Doing so was considered taboo—a violation of community ethics and a mark of social shame. Instead, Kotee was seen as a moral and social obligation, a gesture of solidarity that allowed others to benefit from what remained. In its simplicity, Kotee represented something powerful: a tradition of dignity and mutual support. It allowed the poor to access resources without begging and reminded everyone that the coffee harvest was a blessing to be shared, not hoarded.

For many young people, Kotee offered their first taste of independence. The cherries they collected were often sold, and the income became seed money—used to buy a first goat, new clothes, or school supplies. For families struggling to make ends meet, it provided a vital opportunity to bridge the gap between seasons. And for others, like schoolchildren, it was a moment of mixed emotions. Some, forbidden by their parents from participating, watched their classmates return to school proudly wearing new shoes and shirts bought with their Kotee earnings. It was a small reminder that every cherry on the ground carried a story of effort, opportunity, and hope.

Kotee is more than just a forgotten harvest ritual—it is a window into Ethiopia’s moral economy, where community well-being once outweighed individual gain. It embodies the ethics of sharing, a principle deeply intertwined with Ethiopia’s coffee heritage. As Kerchanshe Coffee continues to grow and engage with farming communities across Ethiopia, we recognize and honor traditions like Kotee—not only as cultural heritage but as timeless lessons in compassion, sustainability, and respect for humanity. At its heart, Kotee reminds us that every bean of Ethiopian coffee carries not just the aroma of excellence—but the spirit of community.



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