In Ethiopia, a woman’s startup is reshaping the idea of what it means to pack up and go.
When Ethiopians move house, they typically call in friends, cousins, and chaos. Furniture is hauled by hand, fragile crockery wrapped in old t-shirts, and time—never in surplus—is cheerfully wasted. For decades, this ritual of disarray was the accepted cost of transition. But in a quiet corner of Addis Ababa, a woman with a single truck and a clearer vision is challenging that norm, one careful carton at a time.
Semira Neway knows the moving business from the inside—literally. She once worked as a packer at a local firm, wrapping dishes and lifting sofas before deciding she could build a better model. In 2023, she founded Addis Bet Movers, a logistics outfit with ambitions far beyond Ethiopia’s crowded capital. The name, meaning "Addis Home," is more than a nod to her roots. It reflects a subtle mission: to move Ethiopia into a new era of professionalised logistics, starting with the homes and offices of its rising urban middle class.
Semira's business began modestly, with a focus on household relocations. But within a year, it had outgrown the living room. Clients such as Kifiya, a fintech firm, and Awash Bank entrusted her team with large-scale office moves. “We are no longer just lifting boxes,” she says. “We’re redesigning what people think moving should feel like—efficient, safe, and thoughtful.”
That may sound obvious in richer economies, where logistics is a slick industry governed by apps and automation. But in Ethiopia, the moving sector is still a patchwork of informal operators, borrowed lorries, and verbal estimates. For years, even educated urbanites balked at the idea of paying a company to do what family members could botch for free. That is starting to change.
So too is the market. Ethiopia’s economy, despite going through macroeconomic turbulence over the last decade and now in state of recovery, remains one of the largest in the region, with a growing appetite for private sector services. Rising urbanisation, digital connectivity, and the expansion of professional employment have created demand for businesses that deliver not just goods, but convenience. In that landscape, moving services—once seen as a luxury—are quietly becoming a necessity.
Semira estimates that Addis Bet Movers now deploys up to 20 workers per job, though none are full-time. Most are contract staff, trained on the spot and retained by merit. Fragile items are wrapped with care. Safety shoes are non-negotiable. “You can tell by watching someone pack whether they understand the work,” she explains. Her crews include women—particularly for delicate tasks—though muscle still dominates the job description.
The sector’s informality is both a blessing and a curse. On one hand, it allows small operators to scale quickly with low overhead. On the other, it exposes them to regulatory headaches. Semira’s firm is VAT-registered and must acquire special permits to operate, particularly when moving trucks cross zones under curfew. Poor signage, bad maps, and chaotic traffic all conspire to turn even short moves into logistical puzzles. “Some roads are so narrow that you can’t take a truck through,” she says. “We adapt—sometimes with smaller vans or even forklifts.”
Technology, unsurprisingly, is still catching up. Semira dreams of launching a mobile app but admits it remains aspirational. For now, word of mouth is her greatest asset. Most customers come through referrals, not online ads. That, she says, is a vote of trust—and also a sign of Ethiopia’s unique business culture, where personal recommendation still outweighs digital marketing.
There are deeper structural challenges. Moving is a seasonal business, and profitability is elusive in the early years. Addis Bet Movers began three years ago with a modest capital of 250,000 birr (about 4,500 US dollars at the time) and owns just one truck. Others are rented as needed. Pricing is bespoke: a household move starts around 20,000 birr, while corporate jobs can go well over 100,000. Heavy machinery—like gym equipment or half-cranes—carries its own price tag and logistical gymnastics.
Yet for all the constraints, Semira’s model hints at a wider trend. Ethiopia’s logistics sector, long plagued by inefficiencies, is slowly opening to private innovation. Recent government reforms, including the liberalisation of transport and logistics services, have begun to shift the terrain. But bureaucratic opacity and infrastructure gaps still limit how far small firms can grow without external backing.
