INSIDE THE WORLD OF NEBYU ELIAS: YE TEFAW LIJ

It’s a quiet afternoon when I step into Nebyu Elias’s home studio, a space filled with warm lighting, scattered instruments, and an air of creative energy. The soft hum of a melody being sung by someone in the recording booth lingers in the background as he greets me with an easy smile. There’s no hesitation in his movements, no sign of doubt—only an artist entirely at home in his world.

“It’s bittersweet,” Nebyu admits, leaning back in his chair once we got settled. “There’s a lot of emotion tied to this album— years of work, personal stories, feelings I poured into every track. Once it’s out, I feel like I’ll never get those moments back. Of course, I’ll keep making music, but this project carries something special.”

He’s been working on this album for five years, a journey filled with growth, self-discovery, and lessons learned. “It’s been a long time,” he says with a chuckle. “It’s been a process of growth; from learning more about myself as an artist to navigating the music industry, it’s been a journey. But every moment has been worth it.”

Nebyu’s path to music wasn’t straightforward. “I wanted to be a soccer player,” he reveals. “From the age of 12, that was my dream. But at 18, a leg injury changed everything. During recovery, I picked up a guitar, and that’s when my musical journey began.” He grew up in a household filled with music, particularly Ethiopian religious songs. “My family was deeply involved in religious music,” he shares. “The way they talked about songs—how lyrics should mean something, how music should tell a story—it shaped how I write today.”

Pursuing a music career in Ethiopia came with challenges. “My family had their own perspective on music—it was a form of worship, not a profession,” Nebyu reflects. “At first, they weren’t sure about me pursuing it full-time, but over time, I had to show them that this wasn’t just a phase. It’s who I am.”

Stepping into the music scene in Addis wasn’t easy. “A lot of trial and error,” he says when I ask what led him to continue his pursuit of being a professional musician. “I held auditions, put together a band, and we studied music together for months before our first performance at a small bar.” He recalls the moment with a smile. “I was so nervous, but in the end, I knew that this was what I wanted to do.” Years later, he feels like a different person on stage. “I’ve learned to be more comfortable, to trust myself and my voice. Performing live isn’t just about singing—it’s about creating an experience.”

Despite his dedication, there was a moment when Nebyu almost gave it all up. “There was a time when I realized I had to make money to survive,” he confesses. “I stopped making music for a while. But then, I found my way back—my first show after the break was at Skylight. That moment reminded me why I do this.”

Curious about his creative process, I asked Nebyu how he draws inspiration—whether from personal experiences or the world around him. He pauses, considering the question, then admits how his approach to music is deeply personal. “A story comes first,” he explains. “Then the words, and finally, a melody forms. Every emotion—happiness, sadness, love, anger—shapes my music. I might witness something heartbreaking and feel compelled to write a song that offers a different perspective, hoping it inspires change. Among his upcoming releases, one track stands out “Ezaw Negn” encapsulates the essence of his journey. “When people listen to my music, I want them to think about their childhood—the honesty of it,” he says. “That sense of wonder and truth that we sometimes lose as we grow up.

The power cuts out mid-conversation, plunging the room into darkness, yet Nebyu barely reacts. Instead, he picks up his guitar and strums lightly, his voice rising against the silence. It’s a fitting metaphor for his journey—how he’s faced uncertainty and setbacks but never let them silence him. “We can no longer seek sadness or the shadows, we must keep on living,” he softly sings, his voice steady in the now darkened room. Streetlights cast long shadows through the window, but Nebyu remains in the moment, continuing to play. And one thing is clear—this is an artist who doesn’t just make music. He lives it.

Dawit:

(Nebyu’s Friend

Nebyu :

Do you write music based on things happening around you, or does it always come from personal experience?

I write all my music from personal experience. I don’t create just because of what’s happening around me; it has to connect with me on a deep level for me to put it out there. As I’ve grown and evolved, my music has changed too. You can hear my personal growth in my writing because everything I create is still rooted in my own experiences.

Dawit:

How has music helped you move past an experience?

Nebyu

Music has helped me move past certain situations in my life. There’s a level in my mind that is constantly fluctuating, and when it gets too high, I pick up a pen and paper. Writing helps me process my thoughts, connect with God, and figure out what to do and what not to do. Every time things feel heavy, I just write. Music comes to me naturally, and I pour all my experiences into my songs.

Dawit:

What is one lesson you’ve learned about yourself through your music journey?

Nebyu :

I would say I haven’t learned anything outside of music because music has taught me everything about myself. It has been my greatest teacher, guiding me through life and showing me the lessons I need to learn. When I listen to certain songs, I discover a lot about my own wishes and desires. Music helps me look within myself, shaping my understanding of what truly matters—whether it’s my relationships, my values, or my personal growth. Through music, I’ve learned so much about who I am.

Dawit:

What would you say if you could go back and give advice to yourself when you first started your music journey?

Nebyu :

I would tell him to stay true to his identity to just be himself. He is Ethiopian, he is Elias' son, and these are the core of who he is. The moment I lose sight of that is when I lose direction in my music. My identity is my foundation, and I always want to remind myself to stay true to it, because that’s where my purpose in music comes from.