We Knew This Was Coming — Yet We Chose to Stay Silent

By Koste Abdiisaa

If we had shown even 1% of the outrage we have expressed over the past two days three, four, or five years ago—when Fano killed hundreds of innocent Oromos in Kiramu, Hagamsa, Amuru, Alibo, Jardega-Jartee, and elsewhere—perhaps these killings would not have happened.

We knew this was coming. The signs were everywhere. The warnings were clear. Yet we chose to remain silent. We chose to look away. We chose to believe that the storm would pass us by.

But storms do not pass by those who refuse to prepare. They break over them.

The Warning Signs We Ignored

For years, the enemies of the Oromo people have been methodically preparing for this moment. While we argued among ourselves, they were opening training camps in our backyard. While we engaged in name-calling and petty divisions, they were building security structures and training hundreds of people to carry out their plans.

We saw it happening. We heard the reports. We knew that innocent farmers—our farmers—were being killed in Kiramu, Hagamsa, Amuru, Alibo, Jardega-Jartee, and countless other places. And what did we do?

We expressed outrage on social media. We posted our anger, shared our grief, and then went back to business as usual.

Our collective inaction allowed this to continue. Our silence gave them permission to proceed. Our failure to act was an invitation for more violence.

The Consequences of Inaction

This is not about hindsight. This is about foresight—and our failure to use it. We cannot pretend that these killings were unexpected. We knew what was coming. We had every warning. But we failed to act.

And now, the consequences are here.

The killing of our innocent farmers is not just a tragedy—it is a judgment on our collective failure to protect our own. It is the result of years of political naivety, misplaced priorities, and a refusal to confront the reality of the threat we faced.

We were good at crying after the fact. We were good at expressing outrage on social media after tragedies happened. But we were very poor at recognizing threats early on, listening to those who recognized them, and preparing ourselves to face them.

The Deeper Outrage

Like many of you, I am outraged by the killing of our innocent farmers. But I am even more outraged by our inaction—our lack of political awareness, our failure to recognize and respond to such cruelty for so long.

What is even more troubling is that some of our so-called political entities—those who claim to speak for us—continue to seek alignment with those responsible. They act as if there is still some humanity left in them to appeal to. They still hope for dialogue with those who have shown, time and again, that they have no interest in peace, only in domination.

This is not leadership. This is delusion.

And we, as a people, have allowed it. We have allowed ourselves to be led by those who refuse to see the enemy for what they are. We have allowed ourselves to be distracted by petty divisions while our people are being slaughtered.

The Beginning, Not the End

Let us not pretend that this is the end. This is the beginning. The attacks will continue. The killings will escalate. And if we do not act now—with unity, determination, and clarity—the tragedies we see today will seem small compared to what is coming.

I fear that we may still fail to act in a timely manner. I fear that we will continue to cry and express outrage for a week, and then return to normal life. I fear that we will continue to do what we seem to be good at: mourning after the fact, but never preparing for what lies ahead.

A Call to Look Within

If this senseless killing of our people does not make us angry enough to question our collective inaction, then perhaps we need to look within ourselves and ask: What kind of society have we become?

Have we become a people who only react after the damage is done? Have we become a people who prioritize social media outrage over real action? Have we become a people who are more concerned with who is right than with what is right?

We must ask ourselves these questions. And we must answer them honestly.

The Path Forward

We cannot change the past. The blood that has been spilled cannot be unspilled. But we can change the future. We can act now—today—to ensure that these tragedies do not continue.

This requires several things:

1. Unity: We must put aside our petty divisions and unite as a people. Our enemies are united; we must be even more united.
2. Awareness: We must wake up to the reality of the threat we face. We must recognize the signs and act before it is too late.
3. Action: We must support those who are willing to sacrifice and risk their lives to defend our people. We must build the structures and institutions necessary to protect ourselves.
4. Accountability: We must hold our political entities accountable. We must demand that they prioritize the defense of our people over their own political ambitions.
5. Resilience: We must be prepared for the long fight ahead. This is not a battle that will be won in a day. It requires patience, courage, and an unwavering commitment to our people.

Conclusion: Enough Is Enough

The killing of our innocent farmers is a crime against humanity. But our collective inaction is a crime against ourselves.

We cannot afford to continue down this path. We cannot afford to remain silent while our people are being slaughtered. We cannot afford to wait until the next tragedy to express our outrage.

Enough is enough.

Let us honor the memory of those who have been killed by resolving to act—not just with words, but with deeds. Let us build a future where our people are safe, our land is protected, and our dignity is restored.

Injifannoon Ummata Oromoo!

Nagaan haa jabaatu!

This reflection is dedicated to the innocent Oromo farmers who have lost their lives, and to all those who are determined to build a future of peace, justice, and security for our people.