In the heart of Finfinne, a simple act of planting carries profound lessons for governance, sustainability, and the future of generations yet unborn

Finfinne, Oromia — In the bustling streets of Shaggar, in the Sabbata district of the capital city, a quiet but powerful act is taking place. A sapling has been planted. To the casual observer, it may seem like a modest gesture—a tree among thousands, a green shoot in a city of concrete and noise. But to those who understand the deeper meaning of such acts, this planting represents something far more significant: a statement about the relationship between governance, nature, and the future.

The tree that stands today in Sabbata is not merely a decorative addition to the urban landscape. It is a living testament to the interconnectedness of all life—human and non-human, present and future, local and global. It is a reminder that the decisions we make today, the systems we build, and the values we uphold will echo through generations.

The Many Gifts of the Tree

As we reflect on the planting of this tree, we are reminded of the countless benefits that trees and vegetation provide—benefits that sustain not only human life but the entire web of existence:

~> Ecological Balance: Trees maintain the natural equilibrium of our environment, regulating temperatures, purifying air, and supporting biodiversity. They are the lungs of our planet, breathing life into the atmosphere.

~> Water Management: Trees absorb and hold rainfall, preventing flooding, replenishing groundwater, and ensuring that our rivers and springs continue to flow. In a world of increasing climate uncertainty, this function has never been more critical.

~> Soil Conservation: The roots of trees bind the soil, preventing erosion and landslides. They protect the land from being washed away by heavy rains, preserving the fertility of our agricultural lands.

~> Sustenance: Trees provide food—fruits, nuts, and leaves that nourish both humans and animals. In rural areas especially, the tree is a source of sustenance and survival, a gift that keeps giving across seasons and years.

~> Shelter: Trees offer shade and protection, cooling our homes and communities. They are the silent guardians that shield us from the harshness of the sun and the elements.

~> Building Materials: From the timber that builds our homes to the branches that create our tools, trees provide the raw materials for our shelter and sustenance.

~> Medicine: The majority of medicines in our pharmacies trace their origins to plants. Trees heal us, offering remedies that have been discovered and refined over centuries of human wisdom.

~> Paper and Knowledge: The very pages on which we write our history, our knowledge, and our dreams come from trees. Without them, our civilization would lack the means to record and transmit its wisdom.

~> And so much more: The list of benefits is almost endless. Trees purify our air, beautify our surroundings, provide habitats for countless species, and offer spiritual and cultural significance to communities around the world.

In short, the life of a tree is inseparable from human life. To protect trees is to protect ourselves. To plant trees is to invest in our collective future.

The Duty of Care

“Biqiltuu dhaabuun, dhaabanii immoo kunuunsuun akka guddatu taasisuun dirqama ta’a.”

Planting a tree is not enough. We must nurture it, water it, protect it from harm, and ensure that it grows to maturity. The act of planting is the beginning, not the end, of our responsibility.

This simple truth carries profound implications for how we approach governance and leadership. Just as a sapling requires care and attention to flourish, so too do our institutions, our communities, and our nations.

“Biqiltuun dhaabatee guddate tokko dhaloota har’aa qofa fayyada osoo hin taane, dhaloota boruufis wabii ta’a.”

A tree that is planted and successfully grown benefits not only the present generation but becomes a witness and a resource for those yet to come. It is a legacy—a gift from the past to the future, a bridge between generations.

This is the true measure of leadership: not what we consume or accumulate, but what we create and leave behind. Not what we take from the world, but what we give back. Not how we serve ourselves, but how we serve those who will come after us.

Political Systems and the Tree

“Sirni ykn paartiin siyaasaa har’a jiru boru itti fufuufi dhiisuun waan yeroon murteessuudha.”

The political systems and parties of today face a choice: to endure or to pass away. Time will decide their fate, as it decides all things. But the tree—the tree is different.

“Garuu biqiltuun sirna ykn paartii siyaasaa waliin jijjiirama osoo hin taane, dhaloota irraa dhalootaatti darbaa deema.”

Unlike political systems that rise and fall, that change with the whims of leaders and the tides of history, the tree transcends political transformation. It passes from generation to generation, a constant in a world of change.

This is a humbling observation for those of us engaged in political struggle. Our systems, our parties, our ideologies—they are temporary. The tree, when planted with care, can outlive us all. It will stand witness to the rise and fall of regimes, the birth and death of leaders, the changing fortunes of nations.

“Kanaafuu biqiltuu dhaabuu qofa osoo hin taane, kunuunsanii guddisuun dirqama ta’a.”

Therefore, it is not enough to plant—we must nurture. It is not enough to establish—we must sustain. It is not enough to begin—we must complete.

A Call to Action

“Nutis biqiltuu har’a dhaabne kunuunsinee akka guddatu haa taasisnu; ni taasisnas!”

We who plant today must also commit to tending. We who envision a better tomorrow must also labor to bring it into being. We who hope for a future must also build the foundations upon which that future can stand.

This is the message of the tree in Sabbata. It is a call to responsibility. It is a challenge to think beyond ourselves, beyond our immediate needs and desires, beyond the narrow horizons of our own lifetimes.

The tree that stands in Shaggar today is a symbol of what is possible when we act with foresight, when we care for the environment, when we prioritize the needs of future generations. It is a model for how we should approach governance, development, and leadership.

The Broader Significance

In a world facing unprecedented environmental challenges—climate change, deforestation, desertification, biodiversity loss—the planting and nurturing of trees is more than a symbolic act. It is a practical necessity. It is a matter of survival.

As we reflect on the tree in Sabbata, we are reminded of the urgency of our environmental responsibilities. The Earth does not belong to us alone; it belongs to all living beings, present and future. Our stewardship of the planet will be judged not by what we accumulate but by what we preserve.

“Biqiltuun faayidaan inni qabu jiruufi jireenya dhala nama dabalatee, kan uumama hundaa waliin wal-qabata.”

The tree connects us to the web of life—to the soil, the water, the air, the animals, the insects, and the countless other beings that share our world. To care for the tree is to care for all of life. To neglect the tree is to neglect ourselves.

A Legacy for Generations

The planting of a tree is an act of hope. It declares that we believe in tomorrow, that we trust in the future, that we have faith in the generations yet to come.

“Biqiltuun dhaabatee guddate tokko dhaloota har’aa qofa fayyada osoo hin taane, dhaloota boruufis wabii ta’a.”

When we plant a tree, we are not just planting a plant. We are planting a legacy. We are creating a witness to our existence, a gift to those who will follow, a statement that we cared about something beyond ourselves.

This is what leadership should be—not the pursuit of power for its own sake, but the cultivation of a better world for those who will inherit it. Not the accumulation of wealth and status, but the investment in sustainability and justice.

Conclusion: The Tree and the Future

As we conclude this reflection, let us return to the image of the tree in Shaggar, in Sabbata, standing tall and green in the heart of the capital. It is a reminder that the greatest acts of leadership are often the quietest—the simple decision to plant, to nurture, to care.

The tree asks nothing of us but our attention and our labor. It gives everything: oxygen, shade, food, shelter, medicine, beauty. It connects us to each other and to the world around us. It bridges the past and the future, carrying forward the hopes and dreams of those who came before.

“Nutis biqiltuu har’a dhaabne kunuunsinee akka guddatu haa taasisnu; ni taasisnas!”

Let us commit to nurturing the trees we plant today. Let us commit to building a future that honors the interconnectedness of all life. Let us commit to leaving a legacy of sustainability, justice, and hope for the generations yet to come.

In the end, the true measure of our leadership will not be found in the statues we erect or the names we inscribe on buildings. It will be found in the trees we plant and nurture, in the lives we touch and uplift, in the world we leave behind for those who will inherit it.

Plant a tree. Nurture it. Watch it grow. And know that you have done something that matters—something that will outlast you, something that will benefit generations yet unborn.

The tree in Shaggar is not just a tree. It is a prophecy. It is a promise. It is a prayer.

May we all have the wisdom to plant, the patience to nurture, and the vision to see the forest in every single seed.