Tsehay had been a pharmacist in Bahir Dar for nine years, and she had a reputation for being patient at the counter. She would explain a medicine twice if needed, write instructions on the back of the packet, and sometimes walk a customer through how to use an inhaler until they got it right. But she had noticed a pattern that bothered her. The same questions came back again and again: how to take a tablet with food, what to do after a missed dose, why an antibiotic had to be finished even after feeling better. Each conversation was useful, but each one was also a one-off. People left the shop with the answer for that day and then came back with the same worry a month later.
One afternoon a community health volunteer asked her whether she would give a short talk to a group of women who met weekly at the church hall near the market. Tsehay agreed, expecting twenty minutes and a few questions. She ended up talking for nearly an hour, and the room stayed full the whole time. Afterwards, several women came up to her, not with questions about a particular illness but with thanks, and one asked whether she could come back the following month to talk about her husband’s medicines.
That small session started something. Tsehay began running regular education workshops, and over the next year she learned a great deal about what makes them work, what makes them fail, and how they can build a pharmacy’s reputation in a way that advertising never could. This post shares what she learned.
Authority in a pharmacy does not come from a sign on the wall or a claim on a website. It comes from people experiencing your competence and your care directly. A workshop puts you in front of a group of people who are interested in their health, gives them a chance to ask questions, and lets them see how you handle those questions. That experience builds a kind of trust that is hard to create any other way.
Workshops also reach people who may never come into your shop with a question. A community group, a parents’ association, a workplace, or a local religious gathering can introduce you to customers you would not otherwise meet. Over time, the people who attend become ambassadors, telling their families and neighbours where they heard clear, reliable information.
There is a subtler benefit too. Teaching forces you to be clear. Preparing a session for a room of non-specialists pushes you to explain medicines in plain language, which in turn sharpens how you speak to customers at the counter. Many pharmacists find that their everyday counselling improves as a result.
Before planning any workshop, be clear about the boundaries of your role. A pharmacist can explain how medicines work in general terms, how they should be taken and stored, common side effects to look out for, and when to seek help from a doctor. A pharmacist should not diagnose conditions in a group setting, recommend treatments for individuals, or encourage anyone to change or stop a prescribed medicine.
Tsehay made this boundary explicit in every session she ran. She opened each talk by saying that she could explain general information, but that anyone with a personal concern about their own treatment should speak to their prescriber or to her privately afterwards. She never invited people to name their own conditions in the room, and she kept individual questions for a quiet conversation at the end.
Check the current rules on health promotion and advertising with the regulator before you begin. In Ethiopia, the Ethiopian Food and Drug Authority sets requirements around pharmaceutical information and promotion, and those requirements should be confirmed before you plan a session, especially if you plan to mention specific products. Keep your talks focused on education rather than sales.
The most successful workshops start with questions the community is already asking. Tsehay kept a small notebook at the counter for a month and wrote down every medicine question she was asked that felt worth discussing more widely. She then spoke with two community health workers and a group of parents, asking what worried them most about medicines in their families.
The answers gave her a shortlist of topics: safe use of common painkillers, what to do about a missed dose, how to store medicines during the rainy season and in hot weather, and understanding why some medicines must be finished even when symptoms improve. She also found strong interest in the medicines used for long-term conditions, especially among families caring for older relatives.
Keep each session focused on one topic, and keep it practical. A workshop called “understanding your medicines” is too broad to be useful. A workshop called “taking blood pressure tablets safely every day” gives people something to act on.
A good workshop is short, clear, and interactive. Tsehay found that forty minutes of talk followed by twenty minutes of questions suited most audiences. She used a few simple visual aids, including a large chart showing how to read a medicine label and a small table of storage conditions. She brought real packets, so people could see what she meant when she pointed to the expiry date or the batch number.
Plan for different levels of experience. Some people in the room will have managed their own treatment for years. Others may have just received a diagnosis. Speak clearly, avoid jargon, and check understanding by asking people to explain the key point back to you in their own words.
Think about the setting. A church hall, a community centre, or a workplace canteen may suit a group better than a clinic. Make sure the room is comfortable, the seating is arranged so people can see and hear, and there is space for questions. If you use a microphone, test it beforehand.
Consider language carefully. In Ethiopia, workshops may need to run in Amharic, Afan Oromo, Tigrinya, or another language depending on the community. Tsehay offered her sessions in Amharic and brought a volunteer who could translate for one group that spoke mostly Tigrinya. A short translated handout, prepared with help from a qualified translator and checked for accuracy, made a noticeable difference.
Accuracy matters more in a workshop than almost anywhere else, because people trust what they hear in a group setting and may repeat it to others. Prepare your content from current, authoritative sources, and have it checked by a qualified colleague or a doctor before the session. Guidance changes, and a talk that was accurate a few years ago may now be out of date.
Avoid making claims about cures or guaranteed results. Be honest about the limits of what medicines can do, and be clear about when a person should seek medical help urgently. Give people a simple list of warning signs to watch for after any talk.
Keep records of what you covered and when, and update your materials whenever guidance changes.
Questions in a group can be unpredictable. Someone may ask about a medicine they are taking, describe a worrying symptom, or raise a sensitive personal issue. Tsehay’s approach was to answer general questions fully and to gently move personal ones to a private conversation afterwards. She would say something like, “That is a good question, and I would like to talk about your situation properly. Could we speak after the session?”
Be prepared for disagreements. A member of the audience may have heard something from a relative or a neighbour that contradicts what you are saying. Listen respectfully, check the facts, and explain clearly where the evidence points. Avoid arguing, and never make a person feel foolish for asking.
Follow up. A quick message or a printed sheet with the main points, given to those who want it, helps people remember what they heard. It also gives them a reason to come back to you with questions.
A single workshop is a good start, but authority grows through consistency. Tsehay now runs a session every two months at the church hall, rotating topics and keeping a simple feedback form for each one. She asks participants what they found most useful, what they still find confusing, and what they would like to learn next. Their answers shape the next session.
She has also learned that the most valuable outcome is not the number of people who attend, but the number who come back. Over time, a small group of regular participants has become a trusted community, and several of them now refer friends and relatives to the pharmacy.
Be generous with your time. Offer to visit schools, workplaces, or youth groups when they ask, and be willing to speak in more than one language. Partnerships with local health workers and community organisations can extend your reach without stretching your team too far.
Workshops create expectations. When people hear about a medicine in a talk, they may go to the pharmacy looking for it. If the product is not in stock, the trust you have built can disappear quickly. Keep the medicines you discuss reliably available, and check your reorder levels before each session.
Reliable supply also means you can speak with confidence about what is on your shelves. If you are looking for exporters who understand Ethiopian import requirements and can support steady, documented supply of the medicines your community relies on, you can review the options at pharma exporter to Ethiopia. Verify product registration, certification, and documentation before committing, and check current import rules with the relevant authorities.
Tsehay’s workshops have changed how her pharmacy is seen. She is no longer only the pharmacist who answers questions at the counter. She is the person who came to the church hall, explained things clearly, and stayed to answer every question. Customers greet her differently now, and some have started bringing their children to her counter for advice on school medicines.
The most important lesson, she says, is that people do not need a pharmacist to be a salesperson to trust her. They need her to be honest, clear, and willing to spend time on their questions. Workshops give her the chance to show that, one room at a time.
Medicine education workshops can build real authority for a pharmacy, but only when they are honest, accurate, and rooted in what the community actually needs. Stay within your role, choose topics people care about, plan sessions that invite questions, and keep the content current and checked. Handle personal concerns privately, follow up with useful materials, and build the relationship over time. A pharmacy that teaches patiently and listens well becomes a source of trusted information in its community, and that kind of authority is earned one session at a time.