When Emperor Menelik II issued his call to arms, asking fellow countrymen and women from the country’s diverse ethnic regions, some of whom harbored deep-seated rivalries, to unite and march against the impending Italian invasion in 1896, he placed unwavering confidence in them transcending ethnic, political, and religious divides. And they did, in a victory that Kwame Nkrumah famously described as “a turning point in African history, demonstrating that Africans can unite to defeat colonial powers.” But what gave Emperor Menelik II such certainty that his people would choose unity over discord, seeing the Italian threat not as an opportunity for internal implosion but as a call for solidarity? When the people answered his call, mobilizing kin and kith to march by his side and vanquish the Italians, what propelled them to set aside differences and fight as one?

These are the untellable emotions, the profound motives, and the deep nuances that cameras can’t capture on paper, that monuments can’t replicate on stone – and that even the grandest of museums can’t fully materialize in artifacts, exhibits, and displays. Yet, to the credit of the Adwa Victory Memorial Museum at the heart of Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, everything—from the feel, the sound, and the sight—aims precisely for that: to capture, convey, even conjure those emotions and passions in its immortalization of the heroic sacrifices made, portrayal of the proud history, and commemoration of the Ethiopian peoples’ defeat of the Italian invading force on Sunday, March 1, 1896, near the town of Adwa to preserve Ethiopian independence and inspire anti-colonial struggles across Africa.

Inaugurated in February this year by Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed Ali, the memorial stands on five hectares of land in the location where Ethiopians from all corners of the country gathered before marching north to Adwa for the decisive battle. Today, it draws thousands of daily visitors who engage in a compelling visual, auditory, and interactive exploration of history and culture inside the majestic facility. For many who visit the museum, it is difficult not to remember the thousands of Ethiopian lives lost in Adwa battle, without also feeling the admonition never to forget their ultimate sacrifice, and it is impossible not to celebrate the independence they preserved, without feeling the obligation to uphold it – especially for those from Ethiopia and across Africa.

But perhaps even more relevantly, the Adwa Victory Memorial is a mirror for the current generation of Ethiopians and Africans, both leaders and citizens, in their respective countries – in light of the ideological and even material re-yoking of many to colonialism today manifest in economic exploitation, political submission, cultural erasure, and even territorial encroachment by erstwhile colonizers. Were African leaders to look into this mirror, would they see the reflection of self-honor and dignity that fueled Emperor Menelik II and queen, Taytu Betul? Or would they see the filthy image of dishonorable traitors and sellouts of their countries’ sovereignties? And for citizens, would they see the reflection of a people united and putting country first regardless of domestic rivalries, as demonstrated by Ethiopians in 1896 rallying behind their leader against a common national threat? Or would they see the unworthy reflection of colonial collaborators and complicit actors in their nation’s betrayal for personal or even myopic tribal/ethnic interests?

For all its worth, the Adwa Victory Memorial in Ethiopia is today, without doubt, the conscience of 21st-century Africa. As many from various African countries who enter this hallowed facility will attest, regardless of which of the several gates they eventually exit from, one is filled with the inescapable obligation to march forth to battle against the resurging forces of colonialism in their various disguises in their respective countries, inspired by the indomitable spirit of Adwa, much like the Ethiopians did on that day in 1896. Presently, Ethiopia is navigating through domestic political upheavals, which has left a sour taste for patriotic citizens and genuine friends alike.

Still, regardless of one’s views, it’s impossible to overlook how crucial it is for Africans to visit this memorial in Addis Ababa! Moreover, the legacy of that greatness must not merely be recounted superficially by walkie-talkie YouTubers or click-hunting bloggers, or even passively in government missives. Instead, Adwa Victory should be integrated into school curricula and mainstream conversations across Africa, imparting the full depth of its meaning, significance, and lessons for generations of Africa’s children and youths to embody, reminded of their value, identity, and right to self-determination—not as children of a lesser God, but as equals under the same God who created all.