The Sunday Mail
The only sound at the top of the Entoto Mountains is the thwack of a cowherd’s staff against the tree trunks as he leads his small herd of oxen home.
I am doing my best to keep pace with Tirunesh Dibaba (30) and her younger sister, Genzebe (25), two wisplike Ethiopians with wide smiles and a fiercely close bond who may be the most formidable female track stars in the world.
In the late-afternoon light high above central Addis Ababa, we zigzag between the majestic eucalyptus trees, paying heed to the uneven ground below and staying alert for the not-uncommon hyena sighting.
“No problem”, the sisters assure me. “As long as you clap loudly and throw a rock in the animal’s direction, you will be ok.”
The Dibabas’ dominance in the field of distance running has captivated the track and field community.
“There are a few running families, but not like the Dibabas,” says the Ethiopian track legend Haile Gebrselassie. “What the Dibabas have is what Serena and Venus have, except there are more of them,” says Ato Boldon, NBC’s track analyst. “It’s not a stretch to say they are the world’s fastest family,” he said.
There are the only two siblings in recorded history to hold concurrent world records.
There are not the only competitors in the family; in fact there are actually seven Dibaba siblings and all of them run.
Tirunesh is the most decorated, with three Olympic gold medals, while Genzebe was tipped to win her first in Rio.
Both did not disappoint with Tirunesh winning a bronze medal in the Women’s 10 000 meter final, while Genzebe collected a silver in the women’s 15 000m final.
Their older sister, Ejegayehu (34) is an Olympian, too, with a silver from Athens, and their cousin Derartu Tulu was the first black African woman to win an Olympic gold, in the 1992 Games.
“World records, Olympic medals, world championships – the Dibabas’ accomplishments are unprecedented in this sport,” says Boldon.
As modest (and petite) as the Dibabas are face to face, they are outsize celebrities on the chaotic, construction-clogged streets of Addis Ababa, where they travel by car to avoid being mobbed.
Their arrival at their favourite restaurant, Yod Abyssinia, is greeted with hushed whispers (“Dee-ba-ba, Dee-ba-ba”) and reverential stares.
The sisters duck under the restaurant’s theatrical thatched straw canopies and take a table against the wall, smiling patiently as a young man approaches and asks for a photo.
Afterward Tirunesh takes out her iPhone 6 Plus, her cerise-lacquered nails clacking against the screen as she swipes past the photo of her chubby one-year-old son Nathan.
Genzebe, who prefers Zara, compensates for her timidity with a sweet attentiveness. Her feet look tiny in black ballerina slippers with grosgrain bows over the toe box.
She has replaced her Garmin GPS training watch with a gold one whose pavé diamond–ringed face takes up the entire width of her narrow wrist.
Both women have braids in their thick hair and giggle while confirming that they share a hairdresser.
Their respect and affection are obvious: Genzebe lives with Tirunesh, sharing a bedroom with her baby nephew, and when she becomes flustered following a question about her love life, Tirunesh protectively steers the conversation elsewhere.
For the record, Genzebe has a boyfriend, but he is not a runner, and she doesn’t want to talk about him.
Soon Tirunesh’s husband, fellow track-and-field Olympic medalist Sileshi Sihine, appears.
His and Tirunesh’s 2008 wedding ceremony was a nationally televised event, drawing half a million people to the city’s main square, where Olympic races are broadcast to huge crowds.
The bride wore a lace-embroidered bustier top and a millefeuille tulle ball skirt; the groom, an iridescent gray pin-striped morning suit – all purchased on a trip to Milan.
They don’t remember the name of the clothier, “but one of the best,” Sihine says authoritatively.
“We know people,” he quips.
Restaurant patrons lock their eyes on us as Sihine slips onto the low wooden stool next to his wife, squeezing her knee in greeting.
As the string notes of the krar fill the room and dancers take the stage to perform an Ethiopian eskista dance — a shoulder-snapping feat of timing and rhythm — I ask Tirunesh what music she likes to listen to.
“Michael Jackson,” she answers with a sly smile. “He is my favourite,” the last word pronounced in three crisp syllables.
At this Genzebe, breaking her shell of shyness, speaks up: “For me, Beyoncé.”
Their status — and status symbols — marks a stark contrast between the Dibabas and most others in this still highly impoverished country.
Yet Ethiopia has the fastest-growing economy in Sub-Saharan Africa, and Addis, with its ubiquitous eucalyptus-pole scaffolding and ragged blue construction tarps, is a riot of development. Like many of the nation’s successful track stars, the Dibabas and their in-laws have invested their fortunes back into their city; they are burgeoning real estate tycoons, owning multiple buildings in the capital — including the five-star Tirunesh Hotel, slated to open soon on Bole Road, the Fifth Avenue of Addis.
Along with Kenya, Ethiopia is a powerhouse for turning out elite runners.
According to David Epstein, author of “The Sports Gene: Inside the Science of Extraordinary Athletic Performance”, much of the two countries lies in an altitude “sweet spot” — around 6 000 to 9 000 feet.
“High enough to cause physiological changes but not so high that the air is too thin for hard training,” Epstein says. -Vogue.
