Daily Archives: July 12, 2026

“DUGDA HIN DHUGATAN, HUNDA HIN DUBBATAN”: A Reflection on Truth, Struggle and Sacrifice in the Oromo Liberation Movement

By Adugna Kesso AduBoru/430


Introduction: The Weight of Untold Truths

There is an Oromo proverb that carries profound wisdom: “Dugda hin dhugatan hunda hin dubbatan” — “Do not drink from the back; do not speak from the back.” This saying warns against acting or speaking without full knowledge, without facing things directly. It calls for integrity, courage and a willingness to engage with truth head-on, rather than from behind or from a place of concealment.

In reflecting on the journey of the Oromo liberation struggle, this proverb takes on a deeper meaning. It reminds us that we cannot claim to understand the struggle, its sacrifices and its meaning, if we only observe it from a distance or speak about it without having lived it. True understanding comes from direct experience, from being in the midst of the fire, not from standing on the sidelines.


The Struggle Is the Teacher

Much has been written and spoken about the Oromo liberation movement. Some speak of it as outsiders looking in, analysing and categorising, as if it were a subject to be dissected in a laboratory. But those who have lived the struggle know that it cannot be reduced to theories or abstract discussions. As the reflection states: “Waan taanee fi goone hunduu waan itti amannee itti seenneedha” — everything we have endured and done, we entered into it with full belief and commitment.

The struggle is not a matter of taking sides superficially or speaking in ways that please different audiences. It is not about saying one thing here and another there. The “DIDDA MASTER PLAN” — the overarching strategy of resistance — is better understood when we speak about it directly rather than avoiding it. There is a gap between remembering and doing, between speaking about struggle and actually living it.


What We Have Seen and Endured

The reflection speaks powerfully of the experiences of those who have been at the heart of the liberation movement:

“Waan qabsoo keessatti nurra gahee fi argine garuu mataan isaa qabsoodha” — But what has befallen us and what we have seen in the struggle is the struggle itself. The struggle is not separate from the experiences; it is the very fabric of those experiences.

The question is asked with raw honesty: “Mana fincaaniirra taa’aa maaf nutti ajaa’e hin jedhamu” — Why should we be told to sit on the edge of a latrine? This is a reference to how Oromo people have been marginalised, pushed to the periphery of their own lands and treated as if they do not belong at the centre of their own history.

The reflection then poses a challenging question: “Gabrummaa morma nu gahe keessa osoo jirruu shiraan hidhamne, shiraan ajjeefamne yoo jenne eessa gabroomneree?” — If we say we were tied with ropes and killed with ropes while we were in the slavery that reached our necks, where were we free?

This is a profound acknowledgment of the reality of Oromo subjugation under Ethiopian imperial rule. It does not deny the suffering but places it in context: slavery and oppression did not happen only to others; they happened to us. And yet, even within that slavery, there were those who chose to sell themselves for personal gain and those who maintained their integrity.


Betrayal, Survival and Commitment

One of the most painful aspects of any liberation struggle is the reality of betrayal. The reflection does not shy away from this:

“Gabrummaa keessatti namoota gaggaarii osoo hin taane namoota nama gurguruu bira darbanii of mataa isaaniiyyuu faayidaa fi fedhiitti of gurguranii jiraataan danuu beekna” — In slavery, we know that there are not only good people, but also those who pass by selling others and even sell themselves for their own benefit and desires.

This is a honest reckoning with human weakness and the reality that not everyone who starts the journey finishes it. Some are bought with personal interests, with selfish desires, with the false promises of the enemy. They become informants, betrayers, those who dig holes for their own people.

But the reflection also honours those who remained steadfast:

“Gabrummaa fi gidiraa saba keenyarra gahu jibbanii warri qabsoo eegalan aarsaa fi wareegama gaafataman hunda hanga lubbuu isaanii itti kitimanitti kan qabsa’aan gufuun qabsoo keessatti osoo isaan muudatin hafee miti” — Those who hated slavery and oppression and began the struggle, offering all sacrifices and responsibilities until they gave their very lives, they are the ones who are the foundation of the struggle.


The Reality of Disunity

The reflection is also a warning about the dangers of division and betrayal within the movement:

“Qabsoo geggeessitu keessa akkuma firri qabsoo jiru diinoonni, gantootnii fi galtuun danuudha” — In the movement, there are enemies, traitors and those who sell out, just as there are true fighters.

This is not a cynical statement but a realistic one. The struggle is not a romantic venture. It is a battlefield where loyalties are tested and where some who begin with you will not finish with you. The reflection continues:

“Jaalli kee waliin qabsootti seente hundi hanga dhumaa na waliin deema jettee hin eegiin” — Do not expect that all your comrades who entered the struggle with you will go with you to the end.

Some will become weak and turn back. Some will reveal secrets out of exhaustion or fear. Some will be bought by personal interests and sell you out. And the hardest part: “Kan boolla si buusee, ragaa sitti ta’us irra caalaa namuma waliin qabsoo eegaltee fi waan hunda waliin taate” — The one who digs a hole for you, who becomes a witness against you, is most often someone you began the struggle with and shared everything with.

This is a painful truth that many liberation movements have faced. The greatest betrayals often come from those closest to us.


The Cost of Silence

The reflection then turns to a difficult but necessary observation:

“Amma nan gabaabsa gidiraa fi dararaa mooraa diinaa keessatti agarree fi shira adda addaa agarree fi warra kaan irra gahe hunda gabrummaatu fide” — I will summarise: the poverty, the hardship, the suffering, the various deaths, and everything that has befallen our people — all of it came from slavery.

This is the central thesis. The condition of the Oromo people under Ethiopian rule, with all its manifestations of dispossession, marginalisation, violence and economic exploitation, is rooted in a system that treated Oromia as a colony and the Oromo people as subjects to be dominated.

And yet, the reflection acknowledges that a choice has been made:

“Sana immoo Bilisummaa Saba keenyaatti uwwisuu fi Abbaa Biyyummaa Oromoo deebisuuf qabsoo eegalame xumura itti gochuuf ta’uu beeknee waan dubbachuu qabnu kumaatama dubbachuurra callisuu filanne” — But we have chosen silence, knowing that we must complete the struggle that began to liberate our people and restore the sovereignty of Oromia, rather than saying thousands of things that need to be said.

This is not a silence born of fear. It is a strategic silence, born of the understanding that the time for words has given way to the time for action. When the struggle is not yet won, words alone cannot achieve liberation.


The Courage to Speak Honestly

The reflection concludes with a powerful statement about the right to speak with authority:

“Hanga Leencoonni seenaa isaanii barreeffatanitti warruma leenca ajjeesetu leenca ofiin jedha” — Until the lions have their own historians, the story of the hunt will always glorify the hunter.

This is a call for Oromo people to write their own history, to tell their own stories, to ensure that the narrative of the struggle is not left to those who would distort or erase it. Those who actually kill the lion — those who do the work of liberation — are the ones who have the right to speak.

“QABSOON HANGA BILISUMMAAATTI!” — The struggle continues until freedom!


Conclusion: Truth-Telling as Resistance

The reflection of Adugna Kesso AduBoru/430 is a powerful contribution to the broader project of Oromo truth-telling. It does not offer an easy narrative. It does not romanticise the struggle or ignore its internal challenges. Instead, it offers a truthful account — one that acknowledges sacrifice, betrayal, suffering and hope.

The proverb “Dugda hin dhugatan hunda hin dubbatan” reminds us that truth-telling requires direct engagement. We cannot speak of the struggle without having drunk from its cup. We cannot understand liberation without having walked its path. We cannot honour the martyrs without being willing to continue what they began.

Oromo truth-telling is not about erasing or rewriting history. It is about finally telling more of it — from the voices of those who lived it, suffered for it and continue to fight for it. It is about ensuring that when the story of the Oromo struggle is told, it is told by those who were there, who saw, who endured and who chose to speak — not from the back, but from the front, with courage and honesty.

As Oromia moves towards a future of genuine freedom and reconciliation, it must do so grounded in truth — the kind of truth that does not turn away from difficult realities, that honours the sacrifices of the past and that commits to the completion of the struggle.

Bilisummaan Oromoo hin dhabamuu!


#OromooKuushGuddichaAfrikaa — The Oromo are the great backbone of Africa.

The Unfinished Story: Why Oromo Truth-Telling Matters

For generations, the history of Oromia has been told through a narrow lens—one that often excluded, silenced, or misrepresented Oromo voices and perspectives. Official accounts of Oromian history frequently omitted the full story, leaving gaps that have shaped not only how the past is understood but also how present-day realities are experienced. Oromo truth-telling seeks to change this by placing Oromo voices and lived experiences back at the centre of the narrative.

What Is Oromo Truth-Telling?

At its core, Oromo truth-telling means telling a fuller and more honest account of Oromia’s history. This includes confronting difficult chapters such as colonisation, dispossession, violence, child removals, stolen wages and discriminatory laws. But it also encompasses celebrating Oromo survival, resistance, cultures, knowledge and achievements. It is not about erasing or rewriting history—it is about finally telling more of it .

The concept emerges from a recognition that official versions of history have often been incomplete. As one study notes, the Ethiopian imperial conquest of Oromo territories from 1880 to 1974 involved not just military subjugation but a systematic process of land alienation, political domination and cultural marginalisation . The Oromo resistance against this imperial conquest, though significant, has frequently been downplayed or omitted from mainstream historical accounts.

The Historical Context

The Oromo people, one of the largest ethnic groups in the Horn of Africa, possess a rich political and cultural heritage that includes the Gadaa-Qaalluu system—a model of egalitarian governance, democracy and social organisation that predates many Western democratic institutions . This system, based on consensus-building principles like tchaffee and qixxee, demonstrates sophisticated democratic traditions that challenge portrayals of Oromo society as politically primitive.

Yet this heritage was disrupted by conquest. The Arsi Oromo resistance against Ethiopian imperial forces between 1880 and 1900, for instance, involved intense conflict where the introduction of firearms by imperial forces dramatically shifted the balance of power . The defeat that followed did not merely change political control—it established what scholars describe as a “feudal colonial order” in which Oromo lands were alienated and the Naftagna (settler-administrators) became dominant over local populations .

How Truth-Telling Happens

Truth-telling is not a single event but a process that can unfold through multiple channels. Oral histories, community projects, schools, museums, archives, memorials, public hearings and formal inquiries all serve as vehicles for recovering and amplifying Oromo perspectives. The principle guiding this work is that it should be led by the Oromo community, grounded in local history and handled respectfully. Meaningful action must follow—truth-telling is not just about speaking; it requires people to listen and respond.

Why It Matters Today

The past is not simply past. Discriminatory laws and policies from earlier eras continue to shape economic conditions, political representation and social relations in Oromia today. Understanding how systems of domination were structured—from taxation without representation to the informal structures of control examined in historical research—helps explain persistent inequalities .

Reconciliation cannot progress while difficult chapters remain unaddressed. Oromo truth-telling is not about assigning blame or fostering division. Rather, it is about creating the conditions for genuine reconciliation by ensuring that all parts of the story are acknowledged. A nation that avoids its uncomfortable history builds its future on unstable ground.

A Call to Listen

The Oromo truth-telling movement is a call not just for Oromo people to speak but for all Oromians—and indeed all who engage with Oromian history—to listen. It is an invitation to reckon with the full complexity of the past and to recognise the resilience and contributions of the Oromo people across generations. The survival of Oromo cultures, knowledge systems and identities in the face of colonisation and dispossession is itself a testament to the strength that truth-telling seeks to honour.

As Oromia considers its path forward, truth-telling offers a foundation. It does not promise easy answers, but it offers something essential: a fuller, more honest account of where we have been, so we can better understand where we are and thoughtfully choose where we are going.