Remembering our Colleague Amanuel Haile

The entire team at Seed Global Health is deeply saddened by the passing of our dear colleague, Amanuel Haile. Amanuel joined Seed in October 2022 as an accounting manager and was a valued and integral member of our team since day one. All who had the honor to know Amanuel knew that he was a very special person. His commitment, work ethic, and positive spirit made a lasting impact during his time with Seed.  

Those who had the pleasure to work with him closely witnessed what a proud father he was to his two children, Hermela and Filimon, and a loving husband to his wife, Senait. His professional career was dedicated to mission-driven organizations like Seed and Project Hope, where he worked for 15 years before joining Seed. We are profoundly grateful to have worked with and learned from Amanuel. He made our team stronger and we are so lucky to have known him.

Seed colleagues shared many fond memories of Amanuel:

• Amanuel was so warm and kind and made me feel very welcome in my first few days and weeks at a new organization. I always looked forward to chatting with him in the office and I will always remember his warm smile and shining eyes.
• Amanuel was so easy to work with, intelligent and kind. I’m breathless at this news. His smile and sparkle were endearing and his ability to stay cool during the stressful software transition (on top of just starting the job in October) was impressive. I will miss him very much.
• We are devastated with the news of the passing of Amanuel. He was always so kind to me in our work together. We are thinking of his family, friends and close colleagues during this difficult time. 
• This is an unimaginable loss. I truly appreciate the time I was able to experience Amanuel’s warm spirit and smile around the office. He would light up whenever he spoke about his family, especially how proud he was of Hermela and Filimon.
• This is so incredibly sudden and sad and an unfortunate reminder of how precious this time is we all have. Amanuel was always a bright light in conversation – kind, curious, helpful and optimistic – and I hope we can honor his memory by carrying forward these characteristics.
• I admired and was lightened every day by Amanuel’s warm and positive spirit opening up every meeting or interaction we had. He was incredibly sociable and graced many of us with his friendly camaraderie during days on site at the office. He was a family man, a faithful believer, a musician, a civic-minded community member very active in the Boston community, a big Celtics fan, and so many other things we didn’t get enough time to know about him.
• Amanuel was so kind and understanding of all his teammates. He always considered the human factor in all his responsibilities and interactions. Whereas I can be a stickler on deadlines, Amanuel took the approach of giving people space and time, and reminders to meet their obligations. I admired that. He was also a model of work and life balance.
• I am so very heartbroken for his family, as I know we are all and I am reminded of how precious and how short this life can be. Amanuel has taught me a lot about patience, perseverance, and kindness and I will keep that close to me as I move forward and try to honor his memory by emulating his many virtues in my work and personal life.  
• I have a very fresh memory of my in person meeting with Amanuel at Seed’s 10th anniversary gala last year. It was a very spontaneous human connection. It felt like we had known each other for decades. He carried an unforgettable charm of joy and simplicity. His purity of mind, heart and spirit was palpable.

In memory of our dear friend Amanuel:

When Great Trees Fall

by Maya Angelou

When great trees fall,

rocks on distant hills shudder,

lions hunker down

in tall grasses,

and even elephants

lumber after safety.

When great trees fall

in forests,

small things recoil into silence,

their senses

eroded beyond fear.

When great souls die,

the air around us becomes

light, rare, sterile.

We breathe, briefly.

Our eyes, briefly,

see with

a hurtful clarity.

Our memory, suddenly sharpened,

examines,

gnaws on kind words

unsaid,

promised walks

never taken.

Great souls die and

our reality, bound to

them, takes leave of us.

Our souls,

dependent upon their

nurture,

now shrink, wizened.

Our minds, formed

and informed by their

radiance, fall away.

We are not so much maddened

as reduced to the unutterable ignorance of

dark, cold

caves.

And when great souls die,

after a period peace blooms,

slowly and always

irregularly. Spaces fill

with a kind of

soothing electric vibration.

Our senses, restored, never

to be the same, whisper to us.

They existed. They existed.

We can be. Be and be

better. For they existed.