Author Archives: advocacy4oromia
“NIMOONAA CAALII” AND THE SHADOW OF AMBO: One Name Among Many in a Growing Crackdown
A routine morning arrest at 6:20 AM raises urgent questions about justice, security forces, and the fate of Oromo activists.
INTRODUCTION: A NAME, A TIME, A PLACE
Nimoonaa Caalii jedhama. Jiraataa magaalaa Ambooti.
His name is Nimoonaa Caalii. He is a resident of Ambo city—a town whose very name has become synonymous with Oromo resistance, with political awakening, and with the heavy hand of state security.
On a recent morning, at exactly 6:20 AM, Nimoonaa Caalii was taken.
He was not alone. According to sources, he was arrested alongside “many other people” in an operation that has sent shockwaves through the community. They were detained at Police Station of Kebele 02 in Ambo.
The official reason? Unclear.
The accuser? The city’s security chief, Obboo Hacaaluu Gammachuu—a name that carries a painful irony for anyone familiar with recent Oromo history.
This article investigates what is known about the arrests in Ambo, the pattern of crackdowns targeting Oromo activists and residents, and the deeper questions these events raise about justice, accountability, and the rule of law.
PART ONE: WHO IS NIMOONAA CAALII?
The information available about Nimoonaa Caalii is limited—by design, perhaps, on the part of those who wish to keep his story hidden. What is known:
- Name: Nimoonaa Caalii
- Status: Resident of Ambo city
- Occupation: Not publicly confirmed, but described by community sources as a local activist or involved in community organizing
- Date of Arrest: Recent (exact date not specified in available reporting)
- Time of Arrest: 6:20 AM
- Location of Arrest: Ambo city
- Detention Location: Police station, Kebele 02, Ambo
The early morning hour—6:20 AM—is significant. This is not the time of a spontaneous arrest. This is the time of a coordinated operation: security forces moving before dawn, targeting specific individuals, catching them at home, often before families are awake.
This pattern is familiar across Oromia. It is the signature of a state that prefers to act in darkness.
PART TWO: THE ACCUSER – OBBOO HACAALUU GAMMACHUU
The man reportedly leading or authorizing these arrests is Obboo Hacaaluu Gammachuu, the security chief (kantiibaa) of Ambo city.
The name Hacaaluu carries enormous weight in Oromo memory.
Hachalu Hundessa (also spelled Hacaaluu Hundeessaa) was the beloved Oromo singer, activist, and “voice of the revolution” who was assassinated in Addis Ababa on June 29, 2020 .
Who Was Hachalu Hundessa?
Hachalu’s music gave voice to the pain, hope, and aspirations of the Oromo people. His songs—like “Maalan Jira” (“What Is Mine”)—spoke directly to issues of land alienation, displacement from Addis Ababa, and the struggle for dignity .
His assassination in 2020 sparked massive protests across Ethiopia, leading to dozens of deaths, internet shutdowns, and political instability .
The Irony of the Name
That the security chief of Ambo—the very city that produced Hachalu Hundessa—shares the name Hacaaluu is a bitter irony.
Whether Obboo Hacaaluu Gammachuu is named in honor of the late singer or not is unknown. What is clear is that the man bearing that name is now using state power to arrest residents of the same city—including, reportedly, activists and “sabboontota” (patriots or fighters) who may share the political consciousness that Hachalu Hundessa represented.
It is as if the spirit of resistance that Hachalu embodied is being policed by someone who carries his name.
PART THREE: THE PATTERN – WHAT IS HAPPENING IN AMBO?
The arrest of Nimoonaa Caalii is not an isolated incident. According to the information provided, Obboo Hacaaluu Gammachuu has been “following the mafia group and their actions” and has been sending “many sabboontota and residents” to prison.
Key Questions
| Question | What We Know |
|---|---|
| Who is the “mafia group”? | Unclear. The term could refer to organized criminal networks, political opposition groups, or a label applied by authorities to discredit activists. |
| What are the charges? | Not publicly disclosed. |
| How many arrested? | “Many” – exact number unknown. |
| Legal process? | Unclear if detainees have access to lawyers, family visits, or courts. |
| Status of Nimoonaa Caalii? | Detained at Kebele 02 police station as of last report. |
A Broader Context
Ambo has a long history as a center of Oromo political consciousness. It is the birthplace of Hachalu Hundessa. It is home to Karchale Prison, where generations of Oromo political prisoners have been held and tortured . It is a town that has seen protests, crackdowns, and the heavy presence of security forces for decades.
The current arrests fit a pattern seen across Oromia:
- Early morning raids – Security forces target homes before dawn
- Vague accusations – Detainees are often not told the specific charges against them
- Prolonged detention – Many are held without trial for weeks or months
- Lack of transparency – Families are not notified; lawyers are denied access
- Use of labels – Activists are called “terrorists,” “mafia,” or “saboteurs” to justify arrests
PART FOUR: THE HUMAN COST – BEYOND THE NAMES
Behind every name—Nimoonaa Caalii, and the “many others” arrested alongside him—is a human story.
A Family’s Morning Destroyed
Imagine: 6:20 AM. The sun is just rising over Ambo. A family is asleep. Children are in their beds. Then—banging on the door. Flashlights. Uniformed men. Demands. Confusion. Fear.
A father is taken. A son is handcuffed. A breadwinner disappears.
The family is left behind: a wife who does not know where her husband has been taken; children who do not understand why their father is gone; parents who age overnight from worry.
This is the reality of political arrest in Ethiopia today. It is not abstract. It is not statistics. It is human life interrupted by state power.
The Prison Cell
Kebele 02 police station in Ambo is now holding Nimoonaa Caalii and others. What happens inside?
History suggests: interrogation. Possibly torture. Denial of medical care. Isolation from the outside world. Pressure to confess to crimes that were never committed.
This is not speculation. It is the documented pattern of Ethiopian security forces in Oromia, as reported by human rights organizations and survivor testimonies for decades.
PART FIVE: THE DEEPER QUESTION – WHO IS THE REAL “MAFIA”?
The information provided states that Obboo Hacaaluu Gammachuu has been “following the mafia group and their actions.”
But the term “mafia” is slippery. In the context of Ethiopian state discourse, it has been used to describe:
- Political opposition groups (including Oromo activists)
- Organized criminal networks (actual criminals)
- Anyone the state wishes to discredit
A Question Worth Asking
If security forces arrest people without charge, hold them without trial, and deny them legal representation—who is acting like a “mafia”?
The state has a monopoly on legitimate violence. But when that power is used arbitrarily, without due process, to suppress political dissent—it ceases to be legitimate. It becomes its own form of organized lawlessness.
The real “mafia” may not be the activists being arrested. It may be the system that arrests them.
PART SIX: THE LEGACY OF HACHALU HUNDESSA
It is impossible to write about Ambo, about arrests, about the name “Hacaaluu,” without invoking the memory of the singer who changed everything.
What Hachalu Sang
Hachalu Hundessa did not just sing love songs. He sang about:
- Land rights – The displacement of Oromos from their ancestral lands
- Political freedom – The right to speak, to assemble, to govern oneself
- Dignity – The refusal to be treated as second-class citizens in one’s own homeland
- Resistance – The obligation to fight injustice, even at great personal cost
His music was the soundtrack of the Qeerroo (Oromo youth) movement that shook Ethiopia between 2014 and 2018. His songs were banned from state media. He was harassed, threatened, and ultimately killed .
What Hachalu Said About His Imprisonment
As a teenager, Hachalu was arrested and spent nearly five years in Karchale Prison in Ambo—the same city where Nimoonaa Caalii is now detained .
His father’s advice to him during that imprisonment is worth remembering:
“Jabaadhu gurbaa, hidhaan qoraasuma dhiiraati.”
“Be strong, boy. Prison is the crucible of manhood.”
Hachalu emerged from prison not broken, but determined. He wrote his first album while incarcerated. He turned suffering into art. He turned oppression into anthem.
The Question for Today
Would Hachalu Hundessa be arrested today, if he were still alive?
The answer is almost certainly yes.
The same state that could not tolerate his songs cannot tolerate those who carry his legacy. The arrests in Ambo—including of Nimoonaa Caalii—are part of the same dynamic: the state’s fear of Oromo political consciousness, and its willingness to use force to suppress it.
PART SEVEN: WHAT MUST BE DONE
For the sake of Nimoonaa Caalii, for the “many others” arrested, and for the future of justice in Oromia and Ethiopia, several actions are urgently needed:
1. Immediate Legal Access
- Detainees must be allowed to see lawyers
- Families must be notified of charges and locations
- Medical care must be provided for any detainee who needs it
2. Transparency
- The charges against Nimoonaa Caalii and others must be made public
- The basis for the “mafia” label must be explained
- The number of detainees and their identities must be disclosed
3. Accountability
- If crimes were committed, the accused deserve fair trials
- If no crimes were committed, the accused deserve immediate release
- Security officials who violate the law must face consequences
4. International Attention
- Human rights organizations should investigate the arrests in Ambo
- Diplomatic pressure should be applied to ensure due process
- The Oromo diaspora should document and publicize these cases
5. Community Solidarity
- Families of detainees should not be left alone
- Legal funds should be established
- The stories of the arrested must be told
CONCLUSION: A NAME THAT MUST NOT BE FORGOTTEN
Nimoonaa Caalii jedhama.
His name is Nimoonaa Caalii.
He is a resident of Ambo. He was arrested at 6:20 AM. He is held at Kebele 02 police station. He is one among many.
His name may not be known to the world. It may not trend on social media. It may not be spoken in parliaments or written in human rights reports.
But it is a name. And behind that name is a human being. And behind that human being is a family, a community, a people who have suffered too much and waited too long for justice.
The security chief who shares the name of Hachalu Hundessa—Obboo Hacaaluu Gammachuu—has power over Nimoonaa Caalii’s fate today.
But history has a way of reversing such power.
The name Hachalu is remembered not because of the authority he held, but because of the truth he spoke and the injustice he opposed.
The same will be true of Nimoonaa Caalii—and all the others arrested in the darkness of 6:20 AM.
Their names will be remembered. Their stories will be told. And one day, the system that took them will answer.
May justice come to Ambo.
May the detainees see freedom.
May the cry of the people never be silenced.
“Jabaadhu. Hidhaan qoraasuma dhala namaati.”
—“Be strong. Prison is the crucible of human being.”
This applies to Nimoonaa Caalii as well. And to all who are held for the crime of seeking justice.
© 2026 – A Report on the Arrests in Ambo, Oromia
Barattuu, Sooressa, fi Adeemsa Haqa Maleessa
Hojiin jabaa maatiin, sooressi, fi qaamoleen mootummaa barattuu waggaa 18 Gujii keessatti akka gurguran
Barreessaa: Daandii Ragabaa
GODINA GUJII – Waggaa 18. Barattuu kutaa 9ffaa. Maqaan ishee Haroo Xonaa. Waggaa torbaan, isheen lubbuun ishee baqachaa jirti – diina miti, maatiin ishee, namichi sooressi, fi adeemsi ishee eeguu qabu.
Seeniin Haroo, kan Aanaa Sabbaa Boruu, Ganda Qanxichaa irratti raawwate, marii gadi fageenyaa afuufa, buttaa, goroorsaa, fi faayidaa sooressaa mul’isa.
Yakkii ishee: isheen lakki jette.
Maatiin Intala Gurguruuf Yaalu
Yeroo dheeraaf, abbaan Haroo fi jaarsoliin maatii ishee namicha sooressa Hirbaayyee Sherkuu wajjin marii turan. Namichi kun haadha warraa lama duraan qaba. Inni Haroo barbaada.
Kaayyoo maatii: sooressa.
Haadha Haroof: “Mana siif ijaara.” Obboleeyyaniif: “Konkolaataa isiniif bita.” Abbaa Haroof: “Baay’ee siif kaffala.”
Haroo dide. Yeroo hedduu. Sagalee ol ta’een.
Heeruma Baqaqfamaaf
Guyyaa 29/05/2018, Qanxichatti, Haroo fedhii isheetiin Fayyisaa Galchuu heerumti. Jaalala miti – jiraachuu.
Aadaa Gujiitiin, jaarsoliin araaraa ni ergamu. Maatiin Haroo jaarsa erge – utuu heeruma cabsuuf. Jaarsa Jaarraa, Sheekaa Bulee, Daani’eel Sorsaa, fi Waajii Lootuu ergan. Hundi isaanii didan.
Ergasi maatiin Haroo jaarsota sodaachiise: “Yoo bakka intalti jirtu nu hin geessitan, si poolisii qabna.”
Butii
Namoonni miidhaa afur – Taakkalaa Biluu fi milishaa gandaa – wajjin Haannaa Birbissa Dukkallee (haadha Haroo) fi Paakistaan (Ilfinaa) (obboleessa Haroo), mana Fayyisaa marsan. Ajaja mana murtii malee.
Haroo fi Fayyisaa qabanii gara Qanxichatti fidan.
Bulchaan gandaa Telloo Baatii (soddaa Hirbaayyee) isaan fudhate. Haroo: “Fedha kiyyaan Fayyisaa heerume.” Bulchaan ishee tuffatee abbaa isheetti deebise.
Haroo Hirbaayyee bira gudaattii.
Guyyaa Lamaan Sodaa
Hirbaayyee Haroo dhaane. Mormaa qabee urure. Iyye: “Yoo na diddu, si ajjeesa. Ati kan kiyya.”
Haroo hin cabsine.
Ergaa obboleessa ishee Fiqaaduu Haroo bira gaafte. Obboleessi milishaa qabatee dhufe. Yeroo dallaa marsan, Hirbaayyee rasaasa ol fuudhee dhaansee baqate. Haroo harkaa qabee hurruma fudhate. Booda obboleessi ishee argate. Garuu maatiif deebifamte – maatiin ammallee ishee Hirbaayyee bira deebisuu yaale.
Buttaa Lammaffaa
Guyyaa 21/06/2018, Haroo fi Fayyisaa gara Aagaa Waayyuu, Haya Diimaatti baqatan.
Maatiin isaanii, Hirbaayyee wajjin, karaa GPS tiin bakka isaanii adda baasan. Guyyaa 24/06/2018, ajaja mana murtii malee, poolisoonni Shaakkisoo irraa dhufanii mana marsan. Sababa sobaa: Haroo warqii giraama 180 hatte.
Isaan Haroo fi Fayyisaa qabanii gara Waajjira Poolisii Aagaa Waayyuu fidan.
Poolisii Walii Galu
Waajjira keessatti, Haroo kadhatte: “Ani soda qaba. Yakka hin hojjenne. Asumatti na qoraa. Sabbaa Boruutti na hin deebisinaa.”
Hooggantaa qorannaa, Inispeekter Waasihuun Taaji’oo, ishee tuffate. Inni duraan Hirbaayyee wajjin marii ture.
Abbaan alagaa Abdulfattaa gargaaruu dhufe: “Maaliif iyyannoo intalaa tuffattu?” Poolisoonni xinnoo dhaga’atan, garuu Haroo hin gadhiifne.
Goroorsaan
Lakkaddaa hawaasaa, Hirbaayyee Sherkuu Miiliyoona 11 Birri ol qaamoleef kenne – poolisii, bulchitoota, abbootii alangaa, jaarsoliin.
Kaayyoo: Haroo deebisuu fi Fayyisaa balleessuu.
Yeroo har’aatti, Hirbaayyee bilisa. Haroo dhokattee jirti.
Warra Hin Yakkin Hidhamuu
Guyyaa 21/07/2018, haadha Fayyisaa, Gororrii Adoolaa (umurii 70), fi obboleeyyan isaa, Fullaasa Galchuu fi Gammachuu Galchuu, mana isaanii rafanii jiran irraa qabanii hidhaman. Ajaja malee. Yakkii malee.
Ji’a tokkoof hidhaman. Yeroo Haroo fi Fayyisaa gargar baafamu qofa gadhiifaman.
Yeroo sanatti, Haroo ulfa – Fayyisaa irraa.
Ulfaa fi Dirqama Ulfaa Baasuuf
Maatiin Haroo ishee ulfa baasuuf dirqan. Dhaanan. Raran. Sodaachisan.
Haroo dide.
Guyyaa 29/07/2018, sa’aatii 1:30 halkanii, Haroo amma deebitee baqatte. Ulfaattuu. Miilla duwwaatti. Sodaa guutuu.
Ganama sa’aatii 7:30, poolisii Hayilee Hirbaayyee namoota miidhaa 6 ol qabatee dhufe. Ajaja malee. Rasaasa mana keessa rukutan.
Maatii Fayyisaa hidhan – garuu Haroo achitti hin turte. Jaarsa Odaa Dhaddachaa ishee dhoksee, gara Waajjira Poolisii Sabbaa Boruutti fidde.
Dhaabbii Waajjira Poolisii
Waajjira keessatti, Haroo boossi: “Ani abdii murteesse. Karra ba’u kiyya du’a qofa. Isaan na ulfa baasuuf yaalan. Ani asirraa hin bahu hanga daa’imni kiyya dhalatu.”
Yeroo kanatti, adeemsis dhaabate. Haroo waajjira keessatti turte. Da’ima ishee achitti dhalte. Da’imni fayyaa.
Garuu erga daa’imni dhalate booda, Hirbaayyee ammallee maallaqa facaasaa jira. Ammallee ishee barbaadaa jira.
Qaamoleen Isaan Gadi Dhaaban
Qorannoon kun Aanaalee sadan adda baase kan gurra isaanii cufatan:
- Sabbaa Boruu – buttaan eegale, qaamoleen walii gale.
- Aagaa Waayyuu – poolisoonni iyyannoo Haroo tuffatan.
- Oddoo Shaakkisoo – jaarsoliin fi bulchitoonni maallaqaan dhama’an.
Aanaaleen kun waan kufate qofa miti. Isaan hirmaatan.
GAAFIIFFANNAA
Seeniin Haroo Xonaa tokko miti. Mallattoo dhukkuba gadi fageenyaa – bakka sooressi haqa bitatu, bakka maatiin dhiiga ofii isaani gurguru, bakka intalli meeshaa taatu.
Nu waanna:
- Qorannoo federaalaa Aanaalee Sabbaa Boruu, Aagaa Waayyuu, fi Oddoo Shaakkisoo keessatti.
- Hidhaa fi himannaa Hirbaayyee Sherkuu, Inispeekter Waasihuun Taaji’oo, fi warra hirmaatan hunda.
- Eegumsa fi iddoo dhokataa Haroofi daa’imma isheetiif.
- Deebi’aa mana barnuumaa – Haroo kutaa 9ffaa keessatti turte.
- Xiyyeeffannoo miidiyaa akka namni sooressi amma calleessan hin bitanne.
Intalli Ammallee Baqatte
Guyyaa har’aatti, Haroo Xonaa ammallee jirti. Ammallee dhokatte. Ammallee lolli. Isheen amma haadha. Isheen gara mana barnuumaa hin deebine.
Garuu isheen abdii hin kutanne. Nus hin kutannuu.
“Haqni abbaa haqaatiif!”
Haroo haqa barbaadde. Yeroon haqni deebisuu gahe.
Stolen Dreams – The Forced Marriage and Abduction of a Schoolgirl in Guji Zone
Forced marriage and abduction in Guji Zone expose deep cracks in protection of women and children
By: Daandii Ragabaa
GUJI ZONE – She was 18 years old, a 9th-grade student with dreams of finishing school. Her name is Haroo Xona. And for the past several months, she has been running for her life – not from an enemy, but from her own family, a wealthy man, and a system that refuses to protect her.
Haroo’s story, detailed in a recent investigative account from Sabba Boru District, reveals a conspiracy of forced marriage, abduction, bribery, and official collusion that has left a teenage girl pregnant, traumatized, and still in hiding.
Her crime? She said no.
A Father’s Deal
According to multiple sources, Haroo’s father and family elders had been negotiating with a wealthy local man named Hirbaayyee Sherkuu – a man already with two wives – to force Haroo into marriage.
The family’s motivation was wealth. In exchange for Haroo, Hirbaayyee promised to build a house for her mother, buy vehicles for her brothers, and pay the father handsomely.
Haroo refused. Repeatedly.
To escape this fate, on May 29, 2018, Haroo voluntarily married a young man of her choice, Fayyisaa Galchuu, in Qanxicha Village, Sabba Boru District. It was not a love match. It was survival.
THE ABDUCTION
Haroo’s family did not accept her choice. They sent elders to break the marriage. When the elders refused, the family turned to force.
Armed with local militia and accompanied by Haroo’s own mother, Haannaa Birbissa Dukkallee, and her brother, Paakistaan (Ilfinaa) , the family stormed Fayyisaa’s home. Without any court order, they took Haroo and Fayyisaa and marched them to Qanxicha Village.
At the village office, the chairman – who happened to be a cousin of Hirbaayyee – questioned Haroo. She stated clearly: “I married Fayyisaa by my own choice. My father wants to give me to someone I do not love.”
The chairman ignored her. She was handed over to Hirbaayyee.
TWO DAYS OF TERROR
For two days, Haroo was held at Hirbaayyee’s compound. He slapped her. He grabbed her by the throat. He shouted:
“If you refuse me, I will kill you. I will not leave you for a poor man. You are mine.”
Haroo did not break. She secretly sent a message to her brother, Fiqaaduu Haroo, who brought militia to rescue her. When they surrounded the compound, Hirbaayyee fired a gunshot and fled into the forest with Haroo. She was found by her brother and returned to her family.
But her family, already bought with promises of wealth, pressured her to go back to Hirbaayyee. Terrified, she fled again to Fayyisaa.
THE SECOND ABDUCTION
On June 21, 2018, Haroo and Fayyisaa fled to Haya Diimaa Town in Aagaa Waayyuu District, seeking refuge with relatives.
Her family, working with Hirbaayyee, tracked her using phone calls and GPS. On June 24, 2018, without any court order, armed men – including police from Shaakkisoo District – arrived at the house.
Their excuse? A fabricated theft charge: Haroo had supposedly stolen 180 grams of gold. It was a lie.
They took Haroo and Fayyisaa to the Aagaa Waayyuu Police Station.
THE POLICE WHO COLLUDED
At the station, Haroo begged: “I am afraid for my life. I have committed no crime. This is a conspiracy to return me to a man I do not want. Investigate me here. Do not send me back.”
She wept. She fell to her knees.
The head of the investigation unit, Inspector Waasihuun Taaji’oo, ignored her. He had already made arrangements with Haroo’s family and Hirbaayyee.
The family argued that the case should be transferred to Sabba Boru District – where Hirbaayyee’s influence was strongest. Haroo screamed that she would not go. A local elder, Alangaa Abdulfattaa, intervened, demanding that the police respect her rights.
The police hesitated briefly, then proceeded. They changed vehicles but did not release Haroo. A crowd gathered. Fearing public backlash, the police backed down temporarily – but Haroo and Fayyisaa remained in custody.
THE BRIBERY NETWORK
According to community sources, Hirbaayyee Sherkuu has spent over 15 million Ethiopian Birr bribing officials across multiple districts – police, administrators, judges, and traditional elders.
His goal: to recapture Haroo and eliminate Fayyisaa.
The bribery worked. Despite Haroo’s clear statements, despite the lack of any court order, despite the violence, officials in Sabba Boru, Aagaa Waayyuu, and Oddoo Shaakkisoo districts have consistently sided with the wealthy man.
THE ARREST OF THE INNOCENT
When Fayyisaa’s family continued to resist, they were arrested.
On July 21, 2018, Fayyisaa’s elderly mother, Gororrii Adoolaa (age 70), and his brothers, Fullaasa Galchuu and Gammachuu Galchuu, were taken from their beds. No warrant. No charge. They were held for one month – until Haroo and Fayyisaa were forced apart.
By this time, Haroo was pregnant – by Fayyisaa, not by Hirbaayyee.
THE PREGNANCY AND PRESSURE
Haroo’s family, still in the wealthy man’s pocket, tried to force her to abort. They beat her. They pressured her. They wanted her “clean” for Hirbaayyee.
She refused.
On July 29, 2018, at 1:30 AM, Haroo escaped again. Pregnant. Barefoot. Terrified. She ran through the darkness back to Fayyisaa’s family.
The next morning, Hirbaayyee struck back. At 7:30 AM, a police officer named Hayilee Hirbaayyee led six armed anti-riot police to Fayyisaa’s family home. Without a warrant, they opened fire. A bullet entered the house.
Then they arrested the family again – but Haroo was not there. A local elder, Odaa Dhaddachaa, had hidden her and taken her to the Sabba Boru Police Station.
THE STANDOFF AT THE STATION
At the station, Haroo collapsed. She told officers:
“I have no hope left. The only escape I see is death. They have tried to force me to abort. They have tried to sell me. I will not leave this station until my baby is born. If you send me back to that man, I will kill myself.”
For once, the system paused. Haroo was kept at the station. She gave birth there. The baby was healthy.
But even after the birth, the conspiracy did not end. Hirbaayyee continues to spread money. He continues to pressure authorities. He continues to hunt a teenage girl who only wanted to go to school and marry a man of her choice.
WHAT MUST HAPPEN
The story of Haroo Xona is not an isolated incident. It is a symptom of a deeper rot – where wealth buys justice, where family betrays blood, and where girls are treated as currency.
We call upon:
- Federal authorities to launch an immediate, independent investigation into the conspiracy across Sabba Boru, Aagaa Waayyuu, and Oddoo Shaakkisoo districts.
- The police and judiciary to arrest and prosecute Hirbaayyee Sherkuu, Inspector Waasihuun Taaji’oo, and all officials who participated in this crime.
- Women’s and children’s rights organizations to intervene urgently and provide Haroo with safe shelter and legal protection.
- The media to amplify this story so that no wealthy man can buy silence again.
EPILOGUE: A GIRL STILL RUNNING
As of this publication, Haroo Xona is still alive. Still hiding. Still fighting.
She is now a mother. She never returned to school. Her dreams of education are on hold – perhaps forever.
But she has not given up. And neither should we.
“Justice belongs to the one who seeks it,” the Oromo say.
Haroo has sought justice. It is time for the system to answer.
The Struggle Was Hijacked – And We Looked Away
An open letter to every Oromo who still believes in Bilisummaa
By: Daandii Ragabaa
Publication: Advocacy for Oromia
Date: April 15, 2026
1. The Bitter Truth
“Dubbiin baay’ee hamaadha.”
The truth is very bitter.
For seven years, we have been told that the Oromo struggle is moving forward. We have raised flags. We have sung songs. We have buried our children. And all the while, a cancer was eating the movement from the inside.
This is not the story of our enemies. This is our story. And it is time we looked in the mirror.
2. What We Have Learned
Recent investigative reporting has uncovered what many of us feared but could not prove:
- A shadow network – built not by the people, but by the state and its collaborators – has been operating inside the heart of the Oromo movement for years.
- Mass killings in Ambo and Waliso were not carried out by outsiders. They were carried out by the same people who now wear the flag and claim leadership.
- A secret cell called #120, founded by a former OPDO military member named Mammush, was built for one purpose: to steal the name of the struggle and commit crimes under it.
- Genuine Qeerroo leaders confronted this cell, tried to reform it, and were ignored. Then they were killed or imprisoned.
- When the political transition came, the same criminals simply changed their hats – from “thugs” to “leaders” – and the world applauded.
3. The Names We Must Not Forget
Let us speak the names that the network wants buried:
- Jaal Galaana Immaana – consumed by the same people who now rule Ambo.
- Jaala Boruu Lammeessaa – a young man who started inside the network, saw the truth, fled to the forest, and was martyred.
- Baayisaa Huseen – once a detainee, now the head of security in Ambo, hunting down every Oromo nationalist he ever knew.
- Kaasayee Qananiisa – a mafia figure who never fought for liberation, only for theft, now protected by police commanders.
- Charuu Kabaa– a killer who operated under his father’s police badge, recently blessed at a hotel with 50,000 birr from the Ambo administrator.
- Jaal Battee Urgeessaa-a true fighter who was killed by a gang of thieves; his justice has not yet been done
- Jaal Mo’iboon Baqqalaa-a true fighter who was killed by a gang of thieves; his justice has not yet been done
These are not enemies of Oromia. They are the wolves inside the sheepfold.
4. A Case Study: A Betrayal We Cannot Forgive
One of the most heartbreaking betrayals detailed in this investigation took place in Ambo was a broken case of the representative of OFC- Qana’aa Chuuchee.
Then came the crackdown. Imprisonment. Killings. Displacement.
What followed was a brutal crackdown:
- Imprisonment
- Killings
- Forced displacement
That informant is named Qana’aa Chuuchee – described as the representative of OFC in Ambo. He stayed with the community from Maekalawi to Qilinxoo.
And today, the same people who ordered that crackdown are still in power. Still wearing the flag. Still calling themselves leaders of the struggle.
5. The Child with the Plastic Leg
Perhaps the most obscene symbol of this network is the child with one leg. He was taken to a hotel, displayed, beaten, and abandoned. A performance of suffering. A propaganda prop.
Ask yourself: Who benefits from such cruelty? Not the struggle. Not Oromia.
6. What Is #120?
For those who do not know: #120 was one of approximately 120 underground structures built by Oromo youth during the height of the Qeerroo protests. Some were genuine. Some were not.
#120 was built by Mammush – a former OPDO fighter. Its goal was never liberation. Its goal was crime.
When genuine Qeerroo discovered this, they tried to absorb and reform the cell. But the criminals refused. And when the political winds changed, the #120 members simply changed their koofiyyaa (hat) and declared themselves the new leadership.
Today, the mafia that runs Ambo – and parts of the broader Oromo political landscape – is the direct descendant of #120.
7. The System That Protects Them
Let us be clear: The Prosperity Party (PP) is a mafia system. It does not fight crime. It recruits it.
The same state that once jailed genuine Oromo nationalists now protects the criminals who wear the nationalist mask. Why? Because fake nationalists are useful. They can control the people. They can steal the money. They can kill the real opposition.
And the people? The people are told: “These are your leaders. These are the heroes of the struggle.”
We have been lied to.
8. What Must Be Done
This op-ed is not written to destroy hope. It is written to save it.
We cannot heal what we refuse to name. So here is what we demand:
First: A full, independent investigation into the killings in Ambo and Waliso – with international observers if necessary.
Second: The immediate removal and prosecution of Baayisaa Huseen, Kaasayee Qananiisa, Charuu Kabaa, and all known operatives of the #120 network.
Third: Protection for whistleblowers. The person who provided the information for this investigation is still alive – for now. That should not be temporary.
Fourth: A truth and reconciliation process within the Oromo movement. We must separate genuine liberation structures from criminal infiltrators.
Fifth: Public disclosure. Every person who transitioned from Woyyane-era detention into current leadership must be named and vetted.
Sixth: Community vigilance. Ask the hard questions: Who benefits from this struggle? Who dies? Who gets rich?
9. To the Young Qeerroo and Qarree
You are the reason the struggle still breathes. But you must also be the reason it is cleansed.
Do not follow flags blindly. Do not chant names you have not investigated. Do not give your blood to those who sell your future.
The real heroes are not the ones on hotel stages. The real heroes are the ones in the forest, in the prisons, and in the graves. The real heroes are the ones who refused to wear the mask.
10. A Final Word
The truth is very bitter. But it is the only medicine.
For too long, we have been silent because we feared division. But division is already here. It was created by the very people we now protect.
Let us not be afraid to say: The struggle was hijacked. And we looked away.
No more looking away.
Bilisummaa – but only if it is real.
Nagaa – but only if it is just.
A Day of Thunder and Tears – Oromo Martyrs and Heroes Honored at ABO Headquarters in Gullalle
Thousands gather on Ebla 15, 2026, to remember the fallen, raise the flag, and renew the vow never to forget
By: Daandii Ragabaa
Date: Ebla 15, 2026 (April 15, 2026)
PROLOGUE: The Day the Dead Speak
There are days that pass like any other. And then there is Ebla 15 – the day when the dead refuse to stay silent.
On this morning, under a sky the color of old iron, hundreds of Oromo men, women, and children gathered at the Head Office of the ABO (Arsi, Bale, Oromo) in the Gullalle district of Addis Ababa. They came not because they were invited. They came because something in their blood would not let them stay home.
This was Guyyaa Gootota Wareegamtoota Oromoo – the Day of Oromo Martyrs and Heroes.
It is a day with no official decree. No government proclamation. No permission slip from any palace. It is a people’s holiday, carved from memory and kept with fire.
And on Ebla 15, 2026, the people of Gullalle proved that memory is still alive.
PART ONE: The Gathering
Faces in the Crowd
By 8:30 AM, the compound of the ABO headquarters was already full.
The elders arrived first. They came on buses, on foot, leaning on canes and on each other. Their faces were maps of grief – wrinkles carved by tears and time. They sat on plastic chairs in the shade, their walking sticks planted like spears. They did not speak much. They had done their talking over decades. Now they came to witness.
The mothers stood at the edges. Infants were tied to their backs with cotton wraps. Some nursed while standing. Others held faded photographs – sons, daughters, husbands – who would never grow old. They did not weep. Perhaps they had no tears left.
The youth – the Qeerroo and Qarree – filled the center of the compound. They wore the Oromo flag not as decoration but as declaration. Black, red, and white on t-shirts, on scarves, on wristbands, on fingernails. Their phones were raised, recording everything. Not for social media fame. For evidence. For the archive that no government will keep.
At the front of the compound stood a simple wooden stage. No velvet ropes. No VIP section. No flowers. Just a microphone, a worn banner, and a flag that had been folded and unfolded so many times that its edges were frayed into whispers.
The banner read:
“Guyyaa Gootota Wareegamtoota Oromoo – Ebla 15, 2026 – Hin Irraanfatnu. Hin Lolti Dhaabnu.”
(Oromo Martyrs and Heroes Day – We will not forget. We will not stop struggling.)
PART TWO: The Silence That Roared
One Minute That Lasted a Lifetime
At exactly 9:00 AM, the master of ceremonies stepped to the microphone. He was a soft-spoken man with steel in his jaw.
“Before we speak,” he said, “we listen.”
One minute of silence.
It is easy to write those words. It is much harder to describe what happens when five hundred people stop breathing at the same time. The wind itself seemed to hesitate. A child coughed somewhere in the back, and the sound was enormous. An old man shifted his weight, and the creak of his sandals was a thunderclap.
In that minute, the dead were not remembered. They were present.
Then the silence broke – not with applause, but with a single voice singing an old Oromo lament. One by one, others joined. By the end of the first verse, the entire crowd was singing. The song had no title. But everyone knew the words. It was the song grandmothers sing when they think no one is listening. The song of rivers and horses and a time before borders.
PART THREE: The Names
A Litany of the Lost
Then came the reading of the names.
For nearly two hours, a rotation of speakers stepped to the microphone and read aloud the names of Oromo martyrs. Some were historical – 19th-century horseback warriors who rode against colonial cannons. Others were recent – young people killed in protests between 2014 and 2026. Some names were known across Oromia. Others were known only to a single village, a single family, a single mother.
The list included:
- Alemitu G. – killed, 2016, Adama.
- Biruk T. – disappeared, 2018, never found.
- Chaltu D. – shot, 2015, Bale.
- Dawit I. – died in prison, 2020, denied medical care.
- Feyissa L. – 19 years old, 2014, Ambo.
- Galaana Immaana – consumed by those who now claim leadership.
- Jaala Boruu Lammeessaa – who fled the network and was martyred in the forest.
After each name, the crowd responded with a low, rumbling chant:
“Nu jirra. Hin irraanfatne.”
(We are here. We have not forgotten.)
It was not a cheer. It was a vow.
By the time the last name was read, no one was standing still. But no one had left.
PART FOUR: The Flag That Refuses to Burn
A Cloth More Powerful Than Bullets
At exactly 12:00 noon, the ceremony reached its spiritual peak.
Two young Qarree – sisters, no older than twenty – walked slowly to the flagpole. Between them, folded into a perfect square, was the Oromo flag. They did not rush. Every step was a prayer.
When they reached the pole, they unfolded the cloth with the reverence of priests handling a relic.
This flag – whether the black, red, and white or the green, red, and yellow, depending on tradition – has been banned, burned, trampled, and called illegal at various times in modern Ethiopian history.
And yet, on Ebla 15, 2026, it rose again.
As the colors caught the midday sun, an old man in the back of the crowd fell to his knees. He was not praying to God. He was praying to the cloth.
“Forgive us,” he wept, his voice cracking like dry earth. “We are still fighting. We have not given up.”
No one told him to stand. No one told him to be quiet. Some moments are too sacred to interrupt.
PART FIVE: The Five Pillars
What the Heroes Died For
The keynote address was delivered by a senior ABO official who requested anonymity for security reasons. He did not speak of politics. He spoke of debt.
He raised five fingers and named five sacred words of the Oromo struggle:
| Oromo Word | Meaning | What the Martyrs Died For |
|---|---|---|
| Nageenya | Justice / Peace / Well-being | A country where identity is not a death sentence. |
| Misooma | Development | Schools in villages, not just palaces in the capital. |
| Badhaadhina | Progress | Moving forward, even when the road is soaked in blood. |
| Dimokiraasii | Democracy | The right to speak, assemble, and choose – without permission. |
| Nagaa | True Peace / Safety / Tranquility | Sleeping through the night without fear of a knock on the door. |
“These five words,” the speaker said, his voice low and fierce, “are not decorations. They are debts. Our heroes paid with their lives. We must pay with our actions.”
The crowd did not clap. They raised their fists. And for a moment, Gullalle was not a neighborhood in Addis Ababa. It was an idea.
PART SIX: Voices from the Crowd
What the Living Said
This reporter spoke with several attendees. Their words speak louder than any analysis.
Bontu, 23, university student:
“I was not born when many of these heroes died. But I carry their names in my phone. I read them every morning. Ebla 15 is the day I become honest about who I am.”
Jirenya, 58, farmer (who traveled three hours by bus):
“My brother was killed in 2015. No one was arrested. No one apologized. The government forgot him. But I will not. Today, I am his memory.”
Marga, 19, high school student:
“The old people cry. But we, the young – we are not just crying. We are planning. We are organizing. The next heroes are not dead yet. They are standing right here.”
Hundessa, 72, retired teacher (walking with a cane):
“I have attended these ceremonies for twenty years. Each year, there are new names. That breaks my heart. But each year, there are also new young faces. That gives me hope.”
Faarax, 34, shopkeeper (who left his store unattended):
“I did not close my shop. I left my son in charge. If I lose my business for being here, so be it. What is money without Nageenya? Nothing.”
PART SEVEN: The Shadow Over the Celebration
A Warning from Inside
Not all the voices at the ceremony were voices of pure grief. Some were voices of warning.
Multiple attendees, speaking on condition of anonymity, told this reporter that not everyone who wears the flag loves the struggle. They spoke of infiltration, of criminal networks that have hijacked parts of the movement, of leaders who were once prisoners of the old regime and are now protectors of the new one.
One source, who identified himself as a former insider of a group called #120, described how a shadow cell built by a former OPDO military member named Mammush had systematically stolen money, committed killings, and then rebranded as legitimate leadership when the political winds changed.
“The truth is very bitter,” he said. “But if we do not speak it, the heroes died for nothing.”
Another source pointed specifically to Baayisaa Huseen – now the head of security in Ambo – as a man who once sat in prison alongside genuine nationalists, only to emerge as a hunter of the very people he once called comrades.
“He knows every Oromo nationalist by name. And he is eliminating them, one by one.”
These allegations were not the focus of the ceremony. But they hung in the air like smoke – invisible, but impossible to ignore.
PART EIGHT: The Closing Vow
A Promise Made with Raised Hands
As the sun began to soften over Gullalle, the crowd did not disperse quickly. They lingered. They hugged strangers. They exchanged phone numbers. They stood in front of the flag for photographs that would be hidden in private albums, not shared on public feeds.
Then, a young Qeerroo – no older than seventeen – climbed onto a plastic chair and shouted:
“Ebla 15 next year – where will we be?”
The crowd roared back – not rehearsed, but raw:
“Stronger! More! Free!”
The final moment of the ceremony was not a speech. It was a collective vow.
Everyone raised their right hand – young and old, man and woman, farmer and student, rich and poor – and repeated after the master of ceremonies:
“We will not forget. We will not forgive injustice. We will keep walking.
Until Nageenya is not a word, but water.
Until Misooma reaches the last village.
Until Badhaadhina cannot be stopped.
Until Dimokiraasii is for every Oromo.
Until Nagaa is not a dream, but breakfast.”
Then silence.
And then, from the back of the crowd, a single voice began to sing the Oromo anthem. One by one, everyone joined. By the second verse, Gullalle was no longer a location on a map. It was a congregation.
EPILOGUE: What the Night Carried
The chairs were folded. The banner was rolled. The flag was lowered and placed in a wooden box – the same box that has carried it for years, from one secret ceremony to the next. The crowd melted back into the streets of Addis Ababa – some to homes, some to hiding, some to the next meeting.
But something stayed in the air above Gullalle on the night of Ebla 15, 2026.
It was not smoke. It was not sound. It was not even tears.
It was the breath of heroes – past, present, and those still unborn.
And as long as that breath moves, Guyyaa Gootota Wareegamtoota Oromoo will never be just a date on a calendar.
It will be a living fire.
For Those Who Were Not There
If you are reading this in a city far from Oromia – in Minneapolis, in Berlin, in Nairobi, in Melbourne – know this:
Ebla 15 is not a date. It is a thread.
It connects a horseback warrior of 1896 to a Qeerroo with a cracked smartphone in 2026. It connects a mother who buried her son to a teenager who has never seen peace but still believes in it. It connects the martyrs who fell in Ambo and Waliso to the millions who still whisper Bilisummaa in their sleep.
The Oromo martyrs and heroes did not die so that you would cry forever.
They died so that you would act.
So act.
Learn a name. Speak a truth. Raise a flag – even if only in your heart.
Because as they chanted in Gullalle on Ebla 15, 2026:
“Nu jirra. Hin irraanfatamne.”
We are here. We have not forgotten.
And neither should you.
Bilisummaa! Nagaa!
Ebla 15 – Forever.
Oromo Martyrs and Heroes Day Marked at ABO Headquarters in Gullalle
Hundreds gather to honor fallen heroes, raise banned flag, and renew calls for justice and peace on Ebla 15
By Maatii Sabaa
GULLALLE, FINFINNE – April 15, 2026 (Ebla 15)
GULLALLE – Hundreds of Oromo men, women, and youth gathered today at the Head Office of the ABO (Arsi, Bale, Oromo organization) in the Gullalle district of Addis Ababa to observe Guyyaa Gootota Wareegamtoota Oromoo (Oromo Martyrs and Heroes Day), an annual commemoration held on Ebla 15 (April 15).
The event, which lasted from 9:00 AM to 3:00 PM, included a minute of silence for the fallen, the reading of hundreds of names of martyrs, cultural performances, and the raising of the Oromo flag – a symbol repeatedly banned in public spaces over the years. No violence or security incidents were reported.
The gathering was peaceful but emotionally charged. Attendees included elderly community members, mothers with young children, and large numbers of Qeerroo and Qarree (Oromo youth activists). Organizers described the event as a “people’s holiday” – not sanctioned by any government but observed annually by Oromo communities both inside Ethiopia and in the diaspora.
A banner at the venue read:
“Guyyaa Gootota Wareegamtoota Oromoo – Ebla 15, 2026 – Hin Irraanfatnu. Hin Lolti Dhaabnu.”
(Translation: “Oromo Martyrs and Heroes Day – We will not forget. We will not stop struggling.”)
One of the most powerful moments came when a list of martyrs’ names was read aloud. The names included individuals killed in protests between 2014 and 2026, as well as historical figures from the 19th century. After each name, the crowd responded in unison: “Nu jirra. Hin irraanfatne.” (“We are here. We have not forgotten.”)
An elderly woman, who identified herself only as the mother of a son killed in 2018, held up a faded photograph and told the crowd: “I did not come to speak. I came to show you his face. Do not let his memory die.”
At exactly 12:00 noon, two young women raised the Oromo flag at the ABO compound. The flag – which has been banned at various times in modern Ethiopian history – flew for approximately three hours before being lowered and stored in a wooden box.
Witnesses described an elderly man falling to his knees as the flag rose, weeping and saying: “Forgive us. We are still fighting. We have not given up.”
A senior ABO official, who spoke on condition of anonymity for security reasons, delivered the keynote address. He outlined five core values that he said Oromo martyrs died for:
- Nageenya (Justice / Peace / Well-being)
- Misooma (Development)
- Badhaadhina (Progress)
- Dimokiraasii (Democracy)
- Nagaa (True Peace / Safety)
“These five words are not decorations,” the speaker said. “They are debts. Our heroes paid with their lives. We must pay with our actions.”
The newspaper spoke with several attendees:
Bontu, 23, university student:
“I was not born when many of these heroes died. But I carry their names in my phone. I read them every morning.”
Jirenya, 58, farmer (traveled three hours by bus):
“My brother was killed in 2015. No one was arrested. No one apologized. Today, I am his memory.”
Marga, 19, high school student:
“The next heroes are not dead yet. They are standing right here.”
Hundessa, 72, retired teacher:
“Each year, there are new names. That breaks my heart. But each year, there are also new young faces. That gives me hope.”
Ebla 15 (which corresponds to April 15 in the Gregorian calendar) has become a significant date in Oromo collective memory. While not recognized as an official public holiday by the Ethiopian government, it is widely observed by Oromo communities as a day to honor both historical figures (including 19th-century horseback warriors who fought colonialism) and contemporary martyrs killed in protests and political violence.
The ABO (Arsi, Bale, Oromo – a prominent Oromo civil society and cultural organization) has organized commemorative events on Ebla 15 for several years, though the scale and location have varied due to security constraints.
A visible but low-key security presence was observed in areas surrounding Gullalle throughout the day. No arrests or confrontations were reported. The event ended peacefully at approximately 3:00 PM, after a collective vow in which attendees raised their right hands and recited a pledge to continue the struggle for justice, democracy, and peace.
Organizers declined to provide an official estimate of crowd size, but eyewitnesses placed attendance between 300 and 500 people.
As of press time, the Ethiopian government had not issued an official statement regarding the commemoration.
The ceremony concluded with the Oromo anthem sung by the entire crowd, followed by a slow dispersal. Many attendees lingered to take photographs with the flag and exchange contact information for future organizing.
A young Qeerroo shouted as the crowd began to leave: “Ebla 15 next year – where will we be?”
The crowd responded: “Stronger! More! Free!”
The Fire and the Flag
The Fire and the Flag
On Ebla 15, 2026, at the ABO headquarters in Gullalle, Oromo martyrs and heroes were not just remembered. They were summoned back to life.
By Oromia News Agency
Photography by SBO
Magazine: The Oromo Voice / Horn of Africa Review (Quarterly Edition)
Issue: Spring 2026 – “Memory as Resistance”
GULLALLE, FINFINNE – There is a kind of silence that does not ask for permission. It arrives before the first speaker steps to the microphone, before the first flag is raised, before the first tear falls. It is the silence of a crowd that knows it is standing on bones.
On the morning of Ebla 15, 2026 (April 15) , that silence settled over the Head Office of the ABO in Gullalle like a second sky. Hundreds had come – not because they were summoned, but because something in their blood would not let them stay home.
This was Guyyaa Gootota Wareegamtoota Oromoo – the Day of Oromo Martyrs and Heroes.
And in a country where official history often forgets the names of the fallen, the living came to remember.
I. The Gathering: A Portrait of a People
“We do not come here to mourn. We come here to witness. Mourning is private. Witnessing is public. And the world must see.”
– Bontu, 23, university student
By 8:30 AM, the compound was already full. Not the polished fullness of a state ceremony, but the raw, breathing fullness of a people who have learned to gather in corners and behind walls.
The elders sat on plastic chairs in the shade, their walking sticks planted like spears in the earth. Their eyes were not wet. They had done their crying decades ago. Now they watched – guardians of a memory too heavy for the young to carry alone.
The mothers stood at the edges, infants tied to their backs with cotton wraps. They did not speak much. But when they did, they sang. Old songs. Songs about rivers and horses and a time before borders. Songs that grandmothers had taught them in the dark.
The youth – the Qeerroo and Qarree – filled the center. They wore the Oromo flag not as a decoration but as a declaration. Black, red, and white on t-shirts, on scarves, on wristbands, on fingernails. Their phones were out, recording everything. Not for social media fame. For evidence. For the archive that the state refuses to keep.
At the front, a simple wooden stage. No velvet ropes. No VIP section. Just a microphone, a banner, and a flag that had been folded and unfolded so many times that its edges were frayed.
The banner read:
“Guyyaa Gootota Wareegamtoota Oromoo – Ebla 15, 2026 – Hin Irraanfatnu. Falmaa Hin Dhaabnu.”
(Oromo Martyrs and Heroes Day – We will not forget. We will not stop struggling.)
II. The Names: A Litany of the Lost
At 9:00 AM sharp, the master of ceremonies – a soft-spoken man with steel in his jaw – stepped forward.
“Before we speak,” he said, “we listen.”
One minute of silence.
It is easy to write the words “one minute of silence.” It is harder to describe what it feels like when five hundred people stop breathing at once. The wind itself seemed to hesitate. A child coughed, and the sound was enormous. An old man shifted his weight, and the creak of his sandals was a thunderclap.
Then the names began.
They came in waves. Alphabetical by first name. No hierarchy. A martyr is a martyr.
- Jal Berso Wabe (Megersa Beri) – A warrior whose name meant defiance. He did not kneel.
- Jal Geda Gemeda (Demse Techane) – A strategist. He fought not with rage alone, but with intelligence.
- Jal Dori Beri (Yigezu Benti) – A leader who carried the weight of his people on his shoulders.
- Jal Felmeta / Chechebsa (Umer) – A name spoken in two tongues, one spirit. Unbroken.
- Jal Meri Gelan – A shadow on the battlefield. His enemies saw him only when it was too late.
- Jal Aba Tiki (Aboma Mitku) – A fire that could not be extinguished. He died standing.
- Jal Ire Ana Qechele (Dinsa) – A guardian of the hills. He taught that land is not dirt – it is mother.
- Jal Feferi Doyo – A voice that sang resistance when singing was a crime.
- Jal Dhadiycho Boru – A horseman who rode not for glory, but for the next generation.
- Jal Dhadiycho Muleta – A name that closes the list but never the struggle. He is remembered.
- Jal Alemitu G. – killed, 2016, Adama.
- Jal Biruk T. – disappeared, 2018, never found.
- Jal Chaltu D. – shot, 2015, Bale.
- Jal Dawit I. – died in prison, 2020, no medical care.
- Jal Feyissa L. – 19 years old, 2014, Ambo.
Each name landed like a stone in still water. And after each name, the crowd answered with the same low rumble:
“Nu jirra. Hin irraanfatne.”
(We are here. We have not forgotten.)
By the time the list ended – nearly two hours later – no one was standing still. But no one had left.
“I did not come to speak. I came to show you his face. He was 22. He loved football and poetry. Now he is a memory. Do not let his memory die.”
– An elderly mother, holding a photograph of her son
III. The Five Pillars: What the Heroes Died For
The keynote address was not a political speech. It was a lesson.
A senior ABO official – whose name we withhold for security reasons – stepped to the microphone and asked a question that silenced the crowd:
“What did they actually die for? Not slogans. Not flags. What?”
Then he held up five fingers. One for each of the sacred pillars of the Oromo struggle.
| Oromo Word | Meaning | Translation for the Living |
|---|---|---|
| Nageenya | Justice / Peace / Well-being | A country where your identity is not a death sentence. |
| Misooma | Development | A school in your village, not just a palace in the capital. |
| Badhaadhina | Progress | Moving forward, even when the road is soaked in blood. |
| Dimokiraasii | Democracy | The right to speak, to assemble, to choose – without permission. |
| Nagaa | True Peace / Safety / Tranquility | Sleeping through the night without fear of a knock on the door. |
“These five words,” the speaker said, his voice low and fierce, “are not decorations. They are debts. Our heroes paid with their lives. We must pay with our actions.”
The crowd did not clap. They raised their fists. And for a moment, Gullalle was not a neighborhood in Finfinne. It was an idea.
IV. The Flag: A Cloth That Refuses to Burn
At exactly 12:00 noon, the ceremony reached its spiritual peak.
Two young Qarree – sisters, no older than twenty – walked slowly to the flagpole. Between them, folded into a perfect square, was the Oromo flag.
They did not rush. Every step was a prayer.
When they reached the pole, they unfolded the cloth with the reverence of priests handling a relic. Red, Green, Red. But the meaning is the same.
This cloth has been banned. Burned. Trampled. Called illegal.
And yet, on Ebla 15, 2026, it rose again.
As the flag caught the midday sun, an old man in the back of the crowd fell to his knees. He was not praying to God. He was praying to the cloth.
“Forgive us,” he wept, his voice cracking like dry earth. “We are still fighting. We have not given up.”
No one told him to stand. No one told him to be quiet. Some silences are too sacred to interrupt.
“The old people cry. But we, the young – we are not just crying. We are planning. The next heroes are not dead yet. They are standing right here.”
– Marga, 19, high school student
V. The Voices: What the Living Said
Here, in their own words, are fragments of the day.
Jirenya, 58, farmer – traveled three hours by bus:
“My brother was killed in 2015. No arrest. No apology. The government forgot him. But I will not. Today, I am his memory. That is why I came.”
Marga, 19, high school student – first time attending:
“I used to think heroes were in history books. Dead people. Today I learned that heroes are also the ones who show up. The ones who refuse to be silent. That is me now.”
Faarsee, 34, shopkeeper – came straight from his store:
“I did not close my shop. I left my son in charge. If I lose my business for being here, so be it. What is money without Nageenya ? Nothing.”
Hundessa, 72, retired teacher – walked with a cane:
“I have attended these ceremonies for twenty years. Each year, there are new names. That breaks my heart. But each year, there are also new young faces. That gives me hope.”
VI. The Closing: A Vow Made of Breath
As the sun began to soften over Gullalle, the crowd did not scatter. They lingered. They hugged strangers. They exchanged phone numbers. They stood in front of the flag for photographs that would be hidden in private albums, not shared on public feeds.
Then, a young Qeerroo – no older than seventeen – climbed onto a plastic chair and shouted:
“Ebla 15 next year – where will we be?”
The crowd roared back – not rehearsed, but raw:
“Stronger! More! Free!”
The final moment was not a speech. It was a collective vow.
Everyone raised their right hand. Young and old. Man and woman. Farmer and student. They repeated after the master of ceremonies:
“We will not forget. We will not forgive injustice. We will keep walking.
Until Nageenya is not a word, but water.
Until Misooma reaches the last village.
Until Badhaadhina cannot be stopped.
Until Dimokiraasii is for every Oromo.
Until Nagaa is not a dream, but breakfast.”
Then silence.
And then, from the back of the crowd, a single voice began to sing the Oromo anthem. One by one, everyone joined. By the second verse, Gullalle was no longer a location on a map. It was a congregation.
Epilogue: What the Night Carried
The chairs were folded. The banner was rolled. The flag was lowered and placed in a wooden box – the same box that has carried it for years, from one secret ceremony to the next. The crowd melted back into the streets of Addis Ababa.
But something stayed.
Not smoke. Not sound. Not even tears.
Something else.
If you had stood in the compound of the ABO headquarters at dusk on Ebla 15, 2026, you would have felt it: a warmth that had nothing to do with the sun. A vibration that had nothing to do with noise.
The martyrs, it seemed, had not come to be mourned.
They had come to check on the living.
And the living, for one day at least, did not disappoint.
Ebla 15 is not a date. It is a thread.
It connects a horseback warrior of 1896 to a Qeerroo with a cracked smartphone in 2026. It connects a mother who buried her son to a teenager who has never seen peace but still believes in it.
The Oromo martyrs and heroes did not die so that you would cry forever.
They died so that you would act.
So act.
Learn a name. Speak a truth. Raise a flag – even if only in your heart.
Because as they chanted in Gullalle on Ebla 15, 2026:
“Nu jirra. Hin irraanfatamne.”
We are here. We have not forgotten.
And neither should you.
Bilisummaa! Nagaa!
Ebla 15 – Forever.
Happy Oromo Heroes Day – Ebla 15, April 15
A day to rise, remember, and reaffirm
By: Maatii Sabaa
Date: April 15 – Ebla 15
Location: Oromia & the world
Prologue: A Date Written in Fire
There are dates that pass like any other Tuesday. And then there is Ebla 15 – April 15.
On this day, the Oromo people do not merely turn a page on the calendar. They turn their faces toward history. They straighten their backs. They remember.
Oromo Heroes Day is not a gift from any government. It is not a decree from any palace. It is a day carved from the bone of the people themselves – a day when the sons and daughters of Oromia pause to honor those who bled, those who fell, and those who rose again.
Ebla 15. Remember the date. Because the heroes certainly did.
Who Is an Oromo Hero?
If you walk through the villages of Arsi, the highlands of Bale, the streets of Adama, or the neighborhoods of Minneapolis and Toronto, you will get different answers. But they all sing the same tune.
An Oromo hero is:
- The Qeerroo (youth) who stood in front of bullets so that the elderly could walk behind them.
- The Qarree (young woman) who sang resistance songs while being dragged away.
- The Gadaa father who kept the law of the Oromo alive for 500 years – without an army, without a prison – only with seera (custom) and safuu (moral order).
- The horseback warrior of the 19th century who looked a European cannon in the eye and did not blink.
- The mother who named her child Bilisummaa (Freedom) even when it was illegal.
- The farmer who painted the flag on his barn door with crushed flowers and charcoal.
Heroes are not always the ones who win. Sometimes they are the ones who refuse to lose.
Why Ebla 15? Why April 15?
Every people have a sacred calendar. For the Oromo, time is kept not only in numbers but in spirit. Ebla is a month of transition – from dry to rain, from waiting to planting. It is a month of hope.
April 15 has become, in modern Oromo memory, a touchstone of courage. On various years across the late 20th and early 21st centuries, this date (or its nearby days) witnessed protests, uprisings, and moments when ordinary Oromo did extraordinary things – raising a flag that was forbidden, singing a song that was banned, demanding rights that were denied.
The heroes of April 15 did not have weapons. They had words. They had unity. They had the memory of their ancestors.
And for that, the powers that be feared them.
So Ebla 15 is not a random date. It is the people’s own appointment with history – made without permission, kept without apology.
The Five Gifts the Heroes Left Us
On this Oromo Heroes Day, let us count the inheritance. The heroes did not leave gold or land. They left something more precious: five ideas that cannot be killed.
| Oromo Word | Meaning | What the Hero Demanded |
|---|---|---|
| Nageenya | Justice / Peace / Well-being | A world where the poor are not punished for being poor. |
| Misooma | Development | Not skyscrapers for the rich, but clean water for the village. |
| Badhaadhina | Progress | Moving forward – even one step – and never backward. |
| Dimokiraasii | Democracy | The right to speak, to choose, and to be heard. |
| Nagaa | Peace / Safety / Tranquility | Sleeping without fear. Waking without dread. |
These five words are the true monument to every Oromo hero who ever fell. And they are the unfinished work that falls on our shoulders today.
How to Truly Celebrate Ebla 15
You can post a flag on social media. You can wear the colors. You can share an old photograph of a protest or a warrior. All of that is good.
But here is how to truly make this Oromo Heroes Day worthy of the name:
1. Learn one hero’s name you have never heard before.
Not the famous ones. The unknown one. The woman who fed fugitives. The teenager who wrote poetry in blood. Speak their name aloud today.
2. Forgive a fellow Oromo.
Heroes are not perfect. The struggle has sometimes been divided by clan, by region, by ideology. Today, choose unity. Send a message to an Oromo you have been angry with. Say: “Ebla 15. Let us stand together.”
3. Teach a child the five words.
Nageenya. Misooma. Badhaadhina. Dimokiraasii. Nagaa. If every Oromo child knows these five words by heart, the struggle will never die.
4. Do one brave thing.
It does not have to be big. Speak truth in a room where silence is safer. Wear the flag pin where it is frowned upon. Post the Oromo anthem. Heroes are not special. Heroes are ordinary people who decide: Today, I will not be afraid.
5. Remember the fallen – and fight for the living.
Honoring the dead is sacred. But the dead do not need our tears. They need our action. Ask yourself: What would the hero of Ebla 15 want me to finish today? Then go do it.
A Letter From an Oromo Hero (Imagined)
Dear child of Ebla 15,
I do not know your name. But I know your face. It is the same face I saw in the river when I was young – tired, hopeful, angry, loving.
I died so that you could read these words in your language. I fell so that you could stand. I was silent so that you could speak.
Do not waste my death on grief. Waste it on action.
If you see injustice – speak.
If you see a divided Oromo – unite.
If you see the flag burned – paint another one on your heart.
I did not die to become a statue. I died to become a wind at your back.
Now go. Ebla 15 is yours.
— An Oromo Hero
Closing: Happy Oromo Heroes Day
So today, April 15 – Ebla 15 – we say it loudly and softly, in cities and villages, in freedom and in hiding:
Happy Oromo Heroes Day.
Not happy because everything is finished. But happy because we are still here.
Not happy because the struggle is over. But happy because the struggle has us.
The heroes of Ebla 15 are not in their graves. They are in the straight back of the child who raises the flag. They are in the clenched fist of the protester. They are in the quiet prayer of the mother.
Today, look at your reflection.
You are not just remembering heroes.
You are becoming one.
Bilisummaa!
Nagaa!
Happy Oromo Heroes Day – Ebla 15, April 15!
Oromo Communities Worldwide Mark Ebla 15 – Oromo Heroes Day on April 15
PRESS RELEASE
Call to Honor the Fallen, Celebrate Resistance, and Reaffirm Commitment to Justice, Democracy, and Peace
[Oromia– April 15, 2026] – Today, millions of Oromo people across Oromia, Ethiopia, and diaspora communities in North America, Europe, Australia, and Africa are observing Oromo Heroes Day – known as Guyyaa Gootota Oromoo – on Ebla 15, which falls on April 15.
This annual day of remembrance honors the countless known and unknown heroes who have sacrificed their lives, liberty, and livelihoods for the rights, dignity, and freedom of the Oromo people. From 19th-century horseback warriors who fought colonialism to modern-day Qeerroo (youth) and Qarree (young women) who have led peaceful protests for justice and democracy, the day pays tribute to the enduring spirit of Oromo resistance.
A Day Rooted in Memory, Not Decree
Oromo Heroes Day is not a government-declared holiday. It is a people’s holiday – born from grassroots memory and observed with flags, songs, poetry, cultural events, and moments of silence. The date, Ebla 15 (April 15), has become a symbol of courage, particularly linked to modern uprisings where unarmed Oromo civilians raised the banned Oromo flag and demanded fundamental rights.
“We do not celebrate because the struggle is finished,” said Dhabessa Wakjira, community leader in Melbourne. “We celebrate because our heroes gave us a reason to continue. Every April 15, we remind ourselves and the world: the Oromo people have not been erased. We are here. We remember. And we will keep marching toward Nageenya (justice), Misooma (development), Badhaadhina (progress), Dimokiraasii (democracy), and Nagaa (true peace).”
Five Pillars of the Oromo Struggle
Community organizations and cultural institutions are using Oromo Heroes Day to reaffirm five core values that heroes fought and died for:
- Nageenya – Justice, peace, and well-being for all, regardless of ethnicity or social status.
- Misooma – Equitable development that reaches the most marginalized villages and families.
- Badhaadhina – Progress, both material and spiritual, moving forward without forgetting the past.
- Dimokiraasii – Genuine democracy, including free expression, assembly, and the right to self-determination.
- Nagaa – Lasting peace and safety, where no family fears a midnight knock on the door.
Events and Observances
On April 15 / Ebla 15, Oromo communities are holding:
- Flag-raising ceremonies (where permitted) and cultural gatherings.
- Virtual panels discussing the legacy of Oromo heroes and the future of the struggle.
- Poetry readings and music performances featuring traditional krar and modern resistance songs.
- Moments of silence at 12:00 PM local time to honor the fallen.
- Social media campaigns using hashtags such as #OromoHeroesDay, #Ebla15, #April15, and #Nagaa.
Calls for International Attention
Human rights organizations and Oromo advocacy groups are using the day to draw international attention to ongoing concerns, including political prisoners, restrictions on peaceful assembly, and the continued criminalization of the Oromo flag in some contexts. Supporters are urging the international community to:
- Recognize Oromo Heroes Day as a day of significance for human rights.
- Call for the release of imprisoned Oromo activists and journalists.
- Support dialogue and genuine political inclusion for the Oromo people, Ethiopia’s largest ethnic group.
Statements from Community Representatives
“On Ebla 15, we stand on the shoulders of giants. Our heroes did not have social media or international platforms. They had courage. Today, we honor them by continuing their unfinished work.”
— Dhabessa Wakjira, Oromo community organizer, Melbourne, Australia.
“The Oromo struggle is not about hate. It is about Nagaa – peace with dignity. Our heroes dreamed of a day when an Oromo child could speak their language, sing their songs, and walk the earth without shame. That dream is not yet reality, but every April 15, we get closer.”
— Yaasoo Kabbabaa, Oromo cultural activist, Finfinne, Oromia.
How to Support or Participate
Members of the media, human rights defenders, and the general public are encouraged to:
- Amplify Oromo voices by sharing content directly from Oromo creators and organizations.
- Educate themselves on Oromo history, including the Gadaa democratic system and the legacy of resistance.
- Attend or cover local Oromo Heroes Day events (contact below for diaspora chapter information).
- Use respectful language – recognize that for many Oromo, this day is both a celebration and a mourning.
About Oromo Heroes Day
Oromo Heroes Day (Ebla 15 / April 15) is an annual observance honoring Oromo historical and contemporary figures who sacrificed for the rights, identity, and freedom of the Oromo people. The day is observed globally by Oromo communities regardless of legal recognition. It is a day of cultural pride, political reflection, and intergenerational remembrance.
“Bilisummaa! Nagaa! Happy Oromo Heroes Day – Ebla 15, April 15!”
The Blood Tribute of the Heroes: Advanced by the Oromo Liberation Struggle
FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE
—
PRESS RELEASE
The Blood Tribute of the Heroes: Advanced by the Oromo Liberation Struggle
Ebla 15 – Day of Oromo Martyred Heroes – Official Message from the Oromo Liberation Front (ABO)
Finfinnee – April 14, 2026
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TO: Members and Supporters of the Oromo Liberation Front (ABO), All Freedom Fighters and Patriots of the Oromo People, and the Broader Oromo Nation
SUBJECT: Commemoration of Ebla 15 – Day of Oromo Martyred Heroes (2026)
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The Oromo Liberation Front (ABO) extends its greetings to all members, supporters, freedom fighters, patriots, and the entire Oromo nation on the occasion of **Ebla 15, the Day of Oromo Martyred Heroes for the year 2026**.
1. Significance of Ebla 15
Ebla 15 is a day of profound solemnity and honor. It serves as the annual commemoration of those heroes who, without hesitation, sacrificed their lives to:
– Break the chains of subjugation;
– Restore the dignity of Oromo nationhood;
– Achieve freedom and self-determination;
– Manifest a homeland long denied; and
– Defend the inalienable rights of the Oromo people.
2. Historical Background of the Day
The designation of Ebla 15 as the Day of Oromo Martyred Heroes finds its origin in the **Shiniggaa Martyrdom of 1980**, a pivotal event in the history of the Oromo liberation struggle. On that day, ten senior fighters and high-ranking leaders of the ABO — including those from the Hayyu-Duree and Itti Aanaa leadership structures — were martyred together under harrowing circumstances.
What rendered this event uniquely honorable was the manner of their martyrdom. The fallen heroes refused to be bound back-to-back and executed by enemy forces. Instead, they embraced the cause of unity and freedom for their people, stood shoulder to shoulder, and faced death collectively, falling into a single grave. It is in recognition of this supreme sacrifice that Ebla 15 was established as the Day of Oromo Martyred Heroes, to be remembered by generations forever.
3. Scope of Commemoration
The ABO emphasizes that Ebla 15 is not limited to commemorating only its own fallen members. Rather, it honors **all Oromo sons and daughters** who have perished in the struggle against the enslavement of the Oromo people — whether they fell in direct confrontation, were targeted by state-sponsored violence, or succumbed to various forms of foreign domination. All who fought against the oppressive system and sacrificed their lives for the rights and dignity of the Oromo nation are equally honored on this day.
4. The Price of Liberation
The Oromo nation has paid an immense and irreplaceable price in blood for its land and freedom. Countless individuals have suffered physical wounds, lost family members, and forfeited their property. From the youngest to the oldest, every segment of Oromo society has contributed to this struggle. The martyrs — whose names cannot be fully enumerated — shine eternally in the annals of history. Their *gumaa* (blood tribute) is carried forward by the success of the cause for which they gave their lives.
5. Renewed Commitment of the ABO
As the ABO commemorates Ebla 15, the organization renews its call to all fighters, members, and supporters: continue the struggle with unwavering resolve, undeterred by any difficulties or circumstances, so that the cause for which the martyrs sacrificed may be fully achieved. The ABO further reaffirms its commitment to a peaceful struggle, even as it honors those who fell in battle.
6. Electoral Participation – A Historic Decision
The commemoration of Ebla 15 in 2026 carries distinct significance. For the first time in its history, the ABO has decided to participate in **Ethiopia’s 7th round of national elections**. This decision reflects the organization’s strategic commitment to:
– Achieve lasting peace for the Oromo people;
– Realize the goals of the Oromo liberation struggle — the very goals for which tens of thousands of Oromo sons and daughters were martyred; and
– Pursue all available peaceful avenues without betraying the sacrifice of the fallen.
To succeed in this endeavor, the ABO calls upon its members, fighters, and supporters to work with greater dedication than ever before, to remain prepared to overcome all challenges, and to stand united in support of the organization.
7. Call to the Oromo Nation
The ABO addresses the broader Oromo nation with the following appeal: to achieve lasting peace, to obtain true freedom, to secure the right to self-determination and nationhood, to attain democracy and equality, and to foster mutual development — choose the ABO. It is the organization in which your own children have united, fought for your rights, and paid the highest price with their lives.
Choosing the ABO means fulfilling the very goal of the Oromo liberation struggle — the goal for which the heroes, the sons and daughters of the Oromo nation, fought and fell.
8. Concluding Affirmations
– Ebla 15 is the Day of Oromo Martyred Heroes.
– The Martyred Heroes of Oromo shall be remembered forever; they shall be honored forever.
– Honor and respect to our Martyred Heroes.
– Victory to the broad masses.
– For the Freedom of Oromia.
—
Issued by:
The Oromo Liberation Front (ABO)
Date: April 14, 2026
Location: Finfinnee
Advocacy for Oromia 