SEEING ONESELF IN ANOTHER: ANNA-MARIA TESFAYE RESPONDS TO RUTH HUNDUMA’S THE MEDALLION

In The Medallion, Ruth Hunduma offers us an intimate yet expansive portrayal of loss and remembrance. Through a delicate yet powerful narrative, the film captures the layered trauma of generational displacement and the ways in which the legacy of genocide persists within family histories, cultural memory, and, ultimately, identity. As an Ethiopian filmmaker, Hunduma roots her storytelling in a personal yet universal context, reflecting the experiences of many across the globe, particularly in regions scarred by historical violence, war, and displacement.

The significance of The Medallion becomes even more profound when viewed alongside 1489, a documentary that traces one family’s search for a brother lost in the violence of the Nagorno-Karabakh conflict. The two films, though set in different geographies, speak to one another in powerful ways. In both stories, we witness the toll of conflict on family bonds, the pain of unhealed wounds, and the ways in whichthat those left behind must carry the weight of memory and survival. This thematic intersection reflects the realities of communities—like those in Ethiopia and Armenia—that have endured colonisation, war, and ethnic cleansing, only to face the struggle of rebuilding amidst a backdrop of historical denial and ongoing marginalisation.

Through The Medallion, Hunduma shows us that a medallion, a seemingly small and simple object, carries with it the immense weight of history. It becomes a symbol not only of personal memory but of collective resistance against the erasure of that memory. It speaks to the act of preserving the stories of those who were taken—whether through violence, political turmoil, or forced migration.

There’s an understated yetbut powerful lesson in Hunduma’s film: that the survival of culture and family depends on the retelling of these stories, of keeping alive the memories of those who are no longer with us. This is a resonance felt by many Armenian families, especially in the wake of the Armenian Genocide and the ongoing struggles in Artsakh.

At the heart of both The Medallion and 1489 is the shared experience of those who have been forcibly displaced, who carry the intergenerational trauma of genocide, and who continue to seek justice and reconciliation, often in silence. These films, when viewed together, ask us to reconsider the ways in which we understand and define solidarity—how we as communities, though separated by geography, can find strength in our shared stories of survival and resilience. They challenge us to confront the systems of power that perpetuate these cycles of violence and to imagine new ways of healing, rooted in solidarity across borders.

In my own activism at Queer Svit, where I work with LGBTQ+ and Global Majority individuals in Eastern Europe, Central Asia and the Caucasus, I see the ways in which that displacement—whether due to political persecution, war, or identity-based violence—continues to fracture communities and families. Yet, I also see how the sharing of stories, of family histories, can foster solidarity and healing, even among those from seemingly disparate contexts. This sense of connection is mirrored in The Medallion, as Hunduma’s work speaks not only to the Ethiopian experience but to all communities who have faced the erasure of their histories.

For me, watching The Medallion is an act of bearing witness—not only to the specific narrative of loss it tells but to the broader, global history it evokes. It is a reminder that our stories, no matter how fragmented or painful, are worth preserving. They representare our resistance against forgetting, our refusal to allow those lost to remain invisible.

Hunduma’s film, alongside 1489, asks us to reflect on how we, too, might carry the weight of memory—whether through a medallion, a family heirloom, or even a story passed down through generations. These films call for an active engagement with history, urging us to continue telling the stories of displacement and survival, so that they may be heard by new generations, fostering a deeper sense of solidarity across communities that might otherwise seem distant.

In conclusion, The Medallion stands as a profound meditation on memory, loss, and resilience. It invites us to reflect on the ways that personal and collective histories intertwine, offering a poignant reminder of the importance of preserving our stories, even—and especially—in the face of unspeakable trauma. Whether in Ethiopia, Armenia, or any community marked by the scars of violence, these stories remind us that solidarity is not only possible but necessary in our shared struggles for justice, memory, and healing.

GUEST CURATOR’S BIO

Anna-Maria Tesfaye is a London-based multimedia human rights journalist, producer, and Queer Black rights activist. She serves as the project manager at Queer Svit, an NGO that supports LGBT+ people in the EECCA region.