Why Solar Lanterns and SHS Failed in Ethiopia

I still remember the day the first solar lantern arrived in my village. It was a small, bright beacon — a symbol of hope in a place where the sun set early and darkness stretched long. For the first time, families could gather around a light without the choking fumes of a kerosene lamp. Kids studied into the night, phones were charged, and there was music from radios powered by tiny solar panels. It felt revolutionary.

But that revolution was short-lived.
Within months, most lanterns had gone dark. Batteries failed, solar panels collected dust, and there was no one to fix them. Solar Home Systems (SHS) that promised to power multiple lights and small appliances sat useless, their owners burdened with loans for technology that no longer worked.

This isn’t just the story of my village — it’s the story of rural Ethiopia. A story of good intentions that failed to meet real needs.

Solar lanterns and SHS didn’t fail because people didn’t want them. They failed because they didn’t solve the actual problems rural communities face.

The biggest mistake made by many solar initiatives in Ethiopia was assuming that access to basic lighting was enough. Yes, having light at night is valuable — but light alone doesn’t transform lives.

Rural communities in Ethiopia face deeper challenges: water scarcity, food insecurity, inadequate healthcare, and limited economic opportunities. Farmers need water pumps to irrigate their fields, not just lights in their homes. Families need energy to power mills, grinders, and refrigeration to process and preserve food. Clinics need reliable electricity for lighting, refrigeration for vaccines, and equipment to treat patients. Small businesses require power for machinery, tools, and communication to grow and create jobs.

Solar lanterns and SHS didn’t meet these needs. They offered a band-aid — a light in the darkness — but not the power to change lives.

One of the most promoted selling points of solar lanterns and SHS was affordability. Pay-As-You-Go (PAYG) models promised that anyone could afford solar energy by paying in small, manageable installments. But in practice, this wasn’t the case.

Rural incomes are not only low but also irregular. A good harvest might bring in some money, but a bad season — due to drought or pests — could leave families with nothing. Yet, even during hard times, payments for solar systems were still due.

I remember Fatima, a mother in my village, who proudly bought an SHS through a PAYG plan. She was able to make payments for a few months, but when her crops failed due to drought, she had to choose between feeding her children or paying for the solar system. She chose food. Soon after, the company repossessed her SHS, leaving her home in darkness — and in debt.

This wasn’t an isolated incident. Across Ethiopia, countless families faced similar situations, leading to widespread disillusionment with solar energy.

Another major reason for the failure of solar lanterns and SHS in Ethiopia was the poor quality of many products and the lack of after-sales support. Many companies, eager to scale quickly and reduce costs, flooded the market with cheap, low-quality systems. Batteries degraded within months, solar panels were easily damaged, and there was no network of technicians to handle repairs.

When systems failed, most families had no idea how to fix them — and even if they did, spare parts were often unavailable or too expensive. This lack of support eroded trust. In many villages, solar energy is now seen as an unreliable, short-term solution — a shiny promise that quickly fades.

The failure of solar lanterns and SHS isn’t the end of solar energy’s potential in Ethiopia. It’s a wake-up call — a chance to rethink how we approach rural electrification.

Energy isn’t just about lighting a bulb — it’s about powering opportunity. Future solar initiatives must focus on productive use: solar-powered irrigation systems for farmers, mini-grids that power small businesses and community centers, and energy for schools, clinics, and local industries. By providing power that helps communities grow food, run businesses, and improve healthcare, solar energy can become a tool for economic development — not just illumination.

Rather than selling individual lanterns and SHS units, we need to invest in community-based solar mini-grids. Mini-grids can power entire villages, providing energy not just for homes but for schools, clinics, water pumps, and businesses. They also allow for shared costs, reducing the financial burden on individual families. Most importantly, mini-grids can be managed and maintained locally, creating jobs and ensuring that when something breaks, there’s someone nearby who can fix it.

It’s time to prioritize quality over quantity. Rural communities need durable solar systems built to withstand local conditions — and they need access to technicians who can maintain and repair them. Training local youth as solar technicians creates jobs while ensuring the sustainability of solar projects. With proper support, solar energy can become a reliable, long-term solution rather than a temporary fix.

We must rethink the financing models that have trapped many families in debt. Instead of rigid PAYG systems, we need flexible payment plans that account for seasonal incomes. Community cooperatives, savings groups, and government subsidies can also play a role in making solar energy truly affordable. The goal should be to empower families, not burden them with unmanageable debt.

The failure of solar lanterns and SHS in Ethiopia wasn’t a failure of technology — it was a failure of vision. We focused too narrowly on providing light when we should have focused on providing power — power to grow, to heal, to learn, and to thrive.

Rural Ethiopians don’t just want affordable solar energy. They want solar energy that solves their problems. Energy that pumps water to their fields, powers machines for their businesses, lights up their schools, and keeps their clinics running.

It’s time to stop thinking small and start building systems that meet these real, complex needs. Because in the end, energy isn’t just about turning on a light — it’s about turning on opportunities.

Let’s get it right this time.