By Daandii Ragabaa

There is an old, unspoken rule in the theater of struggle: survivors write the history, but losers write the excuses. In the Oromo context, where the collective quest for self-determination, economic freedom, and cultural preservation is a daily examination of resilience, one question haunts the community: Who are we listening to?

A sobering observation often echoes through the chambers of Oromo intellectual discourse:

“Oromoonni hedduu gorsa qajeelaa argataa hin jiran. Namni qormaata darbuu barbaadu, nama qormaata kufe irraa gorsa fudhachuu hin qabu. Namoonni hedduun namoota qormaata qabsoo kufan irraa gorsa fudhatu; sun ta’uu hin qabu.”

Translated, it reads: “Many Oromo do not have proper guidance. Whoever wants to pass the test must stop taking advice from those who failed it. [Yet] many people do not take advice from those who failed the struggle.”

At first glance, the final sentence seems contradictory—if they don’t take advice from failures, why do they lack proper guidance? The answer lies in a painful paradox: the public square is dominated by the loud, defeated voices, while the silent, victorious architects remain obscured. This is the critical juncture where the Oromo struggle must evolve—from a theater of sympathy to a laboratory of strategic success.

The Danger of the Familiar Echo

Human psychology is wired for comfort. We gravitate toward those who validate our pain. When a community has faced systemic marginalization, it is easy to find solace in the company of those who share tales of bureaucratic stonewalling, economic collapse, or political betrayal.

But here lies the trap. The advice of a person who has never built a business, never negotiated a diplomatic win, or never successfully organized a self-sustaining institution is not just useless—it is parasitic.

The philosophy embedded in this Oromo axiom demands a radical break. The qormaata (exam) is not merely a classroom test; it is the existential evaluation of a nation. Are we passing the test of economic independence? Are we passing the test of educational excellence? Are we passing the test of diplomatic recognition? If the answer is no, we must scrutinize the source of our daily counsel.

Why the “Defeated” Cannot Guide the Victorious

To understand why one must stop taking advice from those who failed, we must define “failure” in the context of struggle. It is not the noble failure of a soldier who falls on the battlefield fighting an invincible force. It is the ideological failure of those who succumb to defeatism before the battle begins. It is the failure of those who normalize mediocrity, who preach that the system is “too big to beat,” and who mistake loud lamentation for meaningful action.

A student preparing for a rigorous medical entrance exam would never hire a tutor who failed the same exam five times. Why? Because failure does not produce the methodology of success. It produces the psychology of survival. The person who passed knows the shortcuts, the mindset shifts, and the precise sacrifices required. The person who failed knows only the pitfalls—and misery loves company.

The Silent Crisis of Mentorship

The axiom notes that many Oromo do not have proper guidance. This is the root catastrophe. In the diaspora and at home, the community is saturated with “critics” but starved of “architects.” We have an abundance of orators who can deconstruct oppression flawlessly, yet a scarcity of engineers who can construct the alternative.

Why do many avoid taking advice from those who did fail? Because those who failed are often the loudest. They dominate social media, they command the narrative of grievance, and they offer the easiest emotional catharsis. Meanwhile, those who have successfully passed the “exam”—the Oromo entrepreneurs running thriving global enterprises, the scholars published in top-tier journals, the diplomats navigating international corridors—are often too busy building to correct the noise.

The Paradigm Shift: Seek the Blueprint

The call here is not to abandon empathy, but to elevate strategy. If you are a young Oromo activist, do not ask the career protester how to build a political party; ask the person who actually registered a party and sustained it. If you are a student, do not ask the perpetual job-seeker for career advice; ask the professional who climbed the corporate ladder or built their own firm.

Empowerment theory, as discussed in previous discourses, argues that power is generated through competence. To break the cycle of collective stagnation, the Oromo must institutionalize a culture of Gorsa Qajeelaa—correct and proven guidance.

A Call for Discernment

The road to Bilisummaa (Freedom) is paved with strategic decisions, not emotional impulses. The “exam” we face is unforgiving. It does not award points for noble intentions; it awards results for precise actions.

It is time to adjust the volume dial. Turn down the noise of perpetual defeatism. Seek out the quiet victors in your midst. Ask them: “How did you pass?” And when they answer, take notes.

Because in the final tally of history, we are not judged by how eloquently we complained, but by how decisively we conquered. And we conquer by learning from the winners, not the defeated.