Category Archives: Afaan
THE RAINS HAVE CEASED, THE FLOWERS BLOOM: CELEBRATING IRREECHAA, THE OROMO THANKSGIVING
By Dhabessa Wakjira
In the highlands of Ethiopia, where the skies weep for months on end and the earth turns to mud, there comes a sacred morning when the clouds finally part. The sun, a golden orb of promise, kisses the damp grass, and a new season is born. This is the moment of Birraa—the spring—and for the Oromo people, it is a time to pause, breathe, and pour out their hearts in gratitude.
This is the spirit of Irreechaa, a festival that transcends mere celebration. It is the Oromo Thanksgiving, a profound spiritual and cultural touchstone that marks the end of the punishing rainy season and the beginning of a season of renewal, peace, and hope.
Held annually at the end of September or the beginning of October, Irreechaa is not a quiet affair of private reflection. It is a magnificent, vibrant explosion of life. Thousands, dressed in dazzling traditional attire, converge on sacred rivers, lakes, and hilltops. The air hums with the rhythm of drums, the melodic chants of elders, and the joyous ululations of the crowd. In their hands, they hold the symbols of the season: lush green grass and delicate yellow daisies, emblems of fertility, flourishing life, and the promise of a bountiful year.
The Heart of the Festival: Giving Thanks to Waaqa
At its core, Irreechaa is a dialogue with the divine. The Oromo people lift their prayers to Waaqa (God), offering thanks not for material wealth alone, but for the bedrock of their existence: a good harvest that fills the granaries, the health of their precious livestock, and the most precious gift of all—peace. It is a recognition that survival through the harsh, dark months was not by human effort alone, but by divine mercy.
“We come to the water to wash away our sorrows and our grudges,” explains an elder during a recent ceremony at Lake Hora Arsadi, near Addis Ababa. “The rain has stopped. Now, we cleanse our hearts and start anew.”
A Living Testament to the Gadaa System
Irreechaa is more than a religious observance; it is the vibrant pulse of the Gadaa System, the ancient, indigenous democratic governance structure of the Oromo people. Inscribed by UNESCO as an Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity, the Gadaa System organizes society into generations, guiding leadership, law, and morality. Irreechaa serves as a unifying moment for this system, reinforcing the social contracts and spiritual values that hold the community together.
Reconciliation and Unity
In a world often fractured by division, Irreechaa stands as a powerful advocate for unity. The festival is a designated time for reconciliation. It is a communal balm where feuds are set aside, misunderstandings are forgiven, and the bonds of kinship are strengthened. The shared experience of prayer and dance melts away social barriers, weaving a tapestry of harmony that includes not just the Oromo, but neighboring communities as well.
A Cultural Showcase
To witness Irreechaa is to witness the soul of Oromo culture. The hills become a runway of breathtaking fashion, with men and women adorned in intricately woven garments and vibrant beadwork. The music is hypnotic, with traditional songs that speak of heroism, love, and history. The dances are energetic, a physical manifestation of joy and liberation.
As the sun sets on the celebration, the green grass is often placed upon the heads of participants as a blessing, a final act of connection to the earth and the creator. The festival concludes, but its spirit lingers—a reminder that every ending is a new beginning, and that gratitude is the foundation upon which communities are built.
Irreechaa is not just a festival. It is a declaration: We have survived. We are thankful. We are one.
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Key Aspects of Irreechaa at a Glance:
· Thanksgiving: Central purpose is to thank Waaqa (God) for blessings over the past year.
· End of Winter: Celebrates the conclusion of the rainy season and the dawn of spring (Birraa).
· Sacred Sites: Observed at rivers (Malkaa), lakes, and hilltops (Tulu).
· Symbols of Life: Participants carry wet grass and daisy flowers to represent fertility and flourishing.
· Cultural Expression: A vibrant display of traditional costumes, music, chants, and dances.
· Unity & Peace: A time for community bonding, spiritual reflection, and reconciliation.
· Gadaa System: An integral ritual within the traditional Oromo governance and social structure.
Oromo Literacy Day: Celebrating the Power of Stories Held in Oromia
By Maatii Sabaa
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Every year, Oromo Literacy Day is more than a date on a calendar—it’s a living tribute to the resilience of a people and their language. It celebrates Afaan Oromoo, a language that carries the weight of history, the songs of ancestors, and the dreams of a nation. But how did the Oromo people arrive at this moment, where their stories can finally be written, read, and shared with the world? The answer lies in a long and courageous journey toward literacy.
A Written History of Resistance and Revival
The story of Oromo literacy is one of relentless struggle. The Oromo people have long possessed a rich oral tradition, but for much of Ethiopia’s modern history, their language was marginalized. It was a household language—spoken, sung, and whispered—but rarely seen on paper . The first major push to change this came in the late 19th and early 20th centuries.
A pivotal figure was Onesimos Nasib, an Oromo freed from slavery who trained as a teacher in Sweden. Upon his return, he and his colleague Aster Ganno worked with an almost missionary zeal to promote literacy in Afaan Oromoo. Onesimos created the Oromo Reader, a book filled with stories that were “short and funny” and designed to be both accessible and engaging. His aim was not just religious instruction but to cultivate a love for reading itself . He would famously ask young people he met, “Can you read and write?” and persuade them of its immense value .
However, their work met fierce opposition from the imperial government. In the mid-1940s, the Haile Selassie regime placed a total ban on Oromo literature . The language was effectively erased from public life, becoming a symbol of defiance.
The Quest for the Perfect Script
The suppression only intensified the desire for a written Oromo. The question of how to write the language became a central point of debate. Early works, like those of Onesimos, used the Ge’ez alphabet. But many activists and intellectuals believed this script was inadequate for Oromo sounds, failing to represent vowel length and consonant gemination—features that change a word’s meaning .
In the 1960s, the movement for a new script gained momentum. At Addis Ababa University, Oromo students began printing the first newspaper in Afaan Oromoo, Kana Beektaa? (“Do you know this?”), in 1968. The paper was a bold act of cultural preservation, collecting “Oromo songs, proverbs, war and grievance chants, Oromo prophecies, nuptials, baby lullabies, and others” . This was more than journalism—it was a declaration of identity. The paper was short-lived, forced to cease publication in 1971 .
Simultaneously, Oromo students in Europe were rigorously debating the script question. In 1968, a study group led by figures like Haile Fidaa concluded that a modified Latin alphabet was the most practical and linguistically sound choice for Oromo . This decision was not just technical; it was a political act of resistance, rejecting a script associated with the establishment.
A New Dawn: The Adoption of Qubee
After years of struggle, the fall of the military Derg regime in 1991 brought a turning point. The new Ethiopian constitution granted greater autonomy to regional states. Oromo was finally made the official language of the Oromia Regional State .
The Latin-based alphabet, known as Qubee, was officially adopted for writing Oromo . This was a victory decades in the making. The script’s simplicity and adaptability to modern technology made it a practical choice for a language finally stepping into the digital age. As one study noted, Qubee “enabled the language to grow faster as the script can be learned easily” .
However, the adoption was not without controversy. For some, the Ethiopic script held deep cultural significance, and the switch to a Latin alphabet was seen as an emotional and political break . Yet for the majority, Qubee represented liberation.
The Stories That Endure
The adoption of Qubee unlocked a literary explosion. Oromo youth and intellectuals began producing “newspapers, magazines, novels, translations and plays that describe their nation and their state in Afaan Oromoo” . Stories once confined to memory were now printed, preserved, and shared.
The journey has also involved recovering alternative scripts. A fascinating chapter is the story of Sheek Bakrii Saphaloo, a scholar who created a unique indigenous Oromo script. He developed an abugida, a writing system where each base glyph has multiple vocalic components, making it distinct from both the Ge’ez and Latin alphabets . This script has been used for over 70 years and is now being considered for digital preservation and inclusion in Unicode, highlighting the deep connection between literacy and cultural identity .
Why Oromo Literacy Day Matters
Oromo Literacy Day is a celebration of this entire journey. It honors the tenacity of Onesimos Nasib, the courage of student activists, and the vision of scholars who fought to give their language a written form. It is a day to recognize that literacy is not just about reading and writing; it is about power, identity, and survival.
The stories held in Oromia are now written down for the world to see. This day celebrates their liberation and their enduring power.
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“The stories, with the exception of a couple of martyr stories, are short and funny, and the subjects vary in order to attract.” — Onesimos Nasib on the Oromo Reader
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Maatii Sabaa is a writer and advocate of the Oromo stories.
BEYOND THE RITUAL: A PLEA FOR UNITY AT THE HEART OF OROMIA’S SACRED DIALOGUE
By Daandii Ragabaa
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In the bustling city of Finfinne, where the hum of modernity often drowns out the whispers of ancient tradition, a different kind of gathering recently took place—one that carried the weight of history and the fragile hope of a shared future. It was not a political rally, nor a commercial event. It was a meeting of faiths, a rare and courageous roundtable where religious leaders from the three spiritual pillars of Oromo society—Waaqeffanna, Christianity, and Islam—sat together not as rivals, but as brothers.
This landmark dialogue, initiated under the momentum of the Waaqeffanna community, was spearheaded by prominent figures, including Obbo Asnake Irko, a respected elder and representative of the Waaqeffanna faith. But the true architect of this historic convergence, as acknowledged by all present, was Qesiis Balay Mekonnen, whose dedication to securing media coverage and a neutral venue ensured that the voices of faith would not be whispered in shadows, but broadcast to the world.
The meeting was not about theological supremacy. It was about survival—the survival of culture, language, and mutual respect in a land where faith has too often been used as a wedge rather than a bridge.
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The Four Pillars of the Finfinne Accord
After hours of intense and heartfelt deliberation, the religious leaders reached a series of groundbreaking agreements that could reshape the spiritual landscape of Oromia. At the heart of these resolutions lay four core principles:
1. Mutual Respect for All Faiths
The leaders unanimously affirmed that no religion—whether indigenous Waaqeffanna, Orthodox or Protestant Christianity, or Islam—holds a monopoly on truth or dignity. They pledged to honor each tradition’s sacred practices, recognizing that the Creator, however named, desires reverence and love among His people.
2. Culture and Language as Unifying Tools
In a powerful declaration, the group committed to using the Oromo language and cultural heritage as vehicles for unity, not division. They agreed that songs, proverbs, and artistic expressions from all faiths could be shared to enrich the collective identity of the Oromo people, rather than to compete or exclude.
3. Standing Together in Times of Crisis
“Yoo rakkoon jiraate waliin dhaabbannee hiikuu”—”If trouble arises, we will stand together to resolve it.” This pledge was perhaps the most poignant. The leaders vowed that no community would face marginalization, violence, or discrimination alone. They would act as a unified bloc to mediate, protect, and advocate for justice, regardless of which faith was affected.
4. Defending the Oromo People from Religious Exploitation
In a bold stance against instrumentalization, the leaders condemned any attempt to use religious identity to sow discord or to harm the Oromo nation. They agreed to collectively denounce and counter any rhetoric or action that weaponizes faith against Oromo unity.
5. A Shared Vision for Irreechaa and Other Cultural Festivals
The dialogue also addressed the growing misunderstandings surrounding Oromo cultural celebrations, particularly Irreechaa. The leaders resolved to engage in ongoing consultations to ensure that these festivals are understood in their proper context—as expressions of thanksgiving and communal identity—and are respected by all faith communities.
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A Word of Gratitude
In his closing remarks, Obbo Asnake Irko expressed deep appreciation for the spirit of openness shown by his fellow religious leaders. Yet, he reserved his most heartfelt thanks for Qesiis Balay Mekonnen, whose tireless efforts in organizing the venue and mobilizing media attention made the dialogue possible. “Without his vision,” Obbo Asnake stated, “this table would remain empty.”
The participants included:
1. Qees Dr. Bantii U. Teessoo – representing the Protestant Christian community
2. Qesiis Balay Mekonnen – representing the Orthodox Christian tradition
3. Sheek Hajjii – representing the Islamic faith
4. Obbo Asnake Irko – representing the Waaqeffanna tradition
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What This Means for Tomorrow
This gathering in Finfinne is more than a news item. It is a testament to the maturity of Oromo society—a society that refuses to let religious difference become a source of conflict. In a region often scarred by sectarian strife, these leaders have lit a small but steady flame. They have shown that the green grass of Irreechaa, the cross of Christianity, and the crescent of Islam can coexist, not in uneasy tolerance, but in active solidarity.
The road ahead is long. Old suspicions do not vanish overnight. But as Obbo Asnake Irko reminded the gathering: “Our ancestors worshipped on the same hills, drank from the same rivers, and prayed to the same Creator under different names. Let us not be the generation that forgets that truth.”
As the media cameras packed up and the leaders departed with handshakes and embraces, one thing was clear—the spirit of Irreechaa, the spirit of thanksgiving and reconciliation, had found a new home. Not just on the lakeshores, but in the hearts of those who dare to listen.
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IN SUMMARY:
Key Agreement Significance
Mutual respect for all faiths Ends religious hierarchy and promotes equality
Use Oromo culture and language for unity Strengthens identity without exclusion
Joint crisis resolution Creates a safety net for all communities
Defend Oromo people from religious abuse Prevents faith from being used as a weapon
Consult on Irreechaa and cultural events Fosters understanding and reduces misconceptions
This is not just a religious accord. It is a covenant of civilization—a promise that in Oromia, faith will build bridges, not burn them.
The Three Pillars of Tuulamaa: Unraveling the Genealogy of an Oromo Nation
In the vast tapestry of Oromo history, few lineages carry the weight and significance of the Tuulamaa. As one of the major branches descending from the legendary Booranaa, the Tuulamaa Oromo represent a people whose ancestral roots run deep into the soil of eastern Africa, their branches spreading across generations, their leaves whispering the stories of a civilization that has thrived for centuries.
The Tuulamaa are not merely a name in the annals of history; they are a living, breathing community whose identity is encoded in the very structure of their genealogy. At the heart of this identity lies a simple yet profound framework: “Sadeen Tuulamaa” — the Three Tuulamaa.
The Sacred Three: Daaccii, Bachoo, and Jiillee
Just as the ancient world recognized the power of three—past, present, future; birth, life, death—the Tuulamaa trace their origins through three primary branches that form the foundation of their entire social and political structure:
BOORANAA │ ▼TUULAMAA │ ┌─────────────┼─────────────┐ │ │ │ DAACCII BACHOO JIILLEE
These three names are not simply labels; they are the pillars upon which the identity of the Tuulamaa people rests. Each branch carries its own distinct history, its own sub-clans, and its own contributions to the collective story of the Oromo nation.
Daaccii: The House of Many Branches
The Daaccii stands as the first and most expansive pillar of the Tuulamaa. Within its embrace, three major lineages emerge, each with its own constellation of sub-clans:
Galaan — The Six
The “Jahan Galaan,” or the Six Galaan, represents the intricate web of relationships that bind the Tuulamaa people. These six houses are:
- Jiddaa
- Liiban
- Abbuu
- Adaa
- Warra Jaarsoo
- Gadullaa
Each of these names carries the weight of history, representing families that have contributed to the economic, political, and cultural life of the Tuulamaa for generations.
Oboo — The Seven
The “Torban Oboo,” or the Seven Oboo, represents another crucial dimension of the Daaccii lineage:
- Gumbichuu
- Gullallee
- Oborrii
- Yaayyaa
- Eekkaa
- Diigaluu
- Gamuu
Historical studies have particularly highlighted Gullallee, Yaayyaa, and Gumbichuu as prominent Oboo descendants, their names echoing through the corridors of Oromo oral tradition.
Sooddoo — The Three
The “Sadeen Sooddoo,” or the Three Sooddoo, completes the Daaccii trilogy:
- Odituu
- Liiban
- Tum’ee
This tripartite structure reflects the Oromo love for order and categorization, a system that has enabled these communities to maintain their identity across centuries.
Bachoo: The Six Houses
The second pillar, Bachoo, embodies the concept of “Jahan Bachoo” — the Six Bachoo. This branch of the Tuulamaa lineage comprises:
- Iluu
- Mettaa
- Uruu
- Garasuu
- Waajituu
- Keekuu
These six houses represent a significant portion of the Tuulamaa population, their members scattered across the Oromo territories yet united by the common thread of shared ancestry. The consistency with which these names appear across various studies—from Haramaya University to contemporary Gadaa structures—testifies to the enduring nature of this genealogical framework.
Jiillee: The Third Pillar
The Jiillee branch, as the third pillar of the Sadeen Tuulamaa, presents a fascinating complexity. Unlike the clearly defined structures of Daaccii and Bachoo, Jiillee exhibits a more intricate pattern that has been documented by Haramaya University research.
The Jiillee-6 structure comprises:
- Goona (with 12 sub-clans)
- Guusa (with 5 sub-clans)
- Looyyaa (with 3 sub-clans)
- Siibaa (with 5 sub-clans)
- Gindoo (with 7 sub-clans)
- Warree (with 3 sub-clans)
The numbers accompanying each name represent the documented sub-divisions, highlighting the remarkable complexity of this genealogical system. This intricate structure demonstrates that for the Oromo, identity is not a simple matter of one name but a layered reality that encompasses multiple levels of belonging.
The Architecture of Society: Gosa → Mana → Balbala
Beyond the broad branches of genealogy, the Tuulamaa social structure follows a remarkably organized pattern. The hierarchy moves from:
- Gosa (the clan) at the broadest level
- Mana (the house or family) at the intermediate level
- Balbala (the door or household branch) at the most specific level
This tripartite structure reflects a society that values both collective identity and individual family ties. It is a system that has enabled the Tuulamaa to maintain social cohesion while allowing for the organic growth and diversification that comes with generations of expansion.
A Living Tradition
The genealogy of the Tuulamaa is not a relic of the past confined to dusty academic texts. As recent as 2026, reports and studies continue to reference Daaccii, Bachoo, and Jiillee as the “Ilmaan Tuulamaa Sadeen” — the Three Children of Tuulamaa. This ongoing recognition within the Gadaa structure demonstrates that these ancient lineages continue to shape contemporary Oromo identity.
In the modern context, the Tuulamaa genealogy serves as:
- A source of identity — connecting individuals to their ancestral heritage
- A framework for social organization — providing structure for community relations
- A foundation for governance — informing the Gadaa system that continues to play a role in Oromo society
- A bridge to the past — maintaining the continuity of Oromo culture across generations
The Deeper Meaning
The Tuulamaa genealogical structure is more than a list of names. It is a testament to the Oromo people’s sophisticated understanding of social organization, their commitment to preserving their heritage, and their ability to maintain cultural continuity across centuries of change.
Each name—from Daaccii to Jiillee, from Jiddaa to Tum’ee—represents not just a line of descent but a community of people with shared values, shared history, and shared destiny. The genealogy tells the story of migrations, of settlements, of alliances and divisions. It speaks of families that grew into clans, of clans that became nations.
In the shade of the Odaa tree, where Oromo elders have gathered for generations, these names are spoken with reverence. They are the vocabulary of identity, the grammar of belonging, the poetry of a people who have known that knowing who you are is the first step toward knowing where you are going.
A Call to Remember
As the Tuulamaa Oromo navigate the complexities of the modern world, their ancient genealogy remains a compass—a reminder of the roots that sustain them, the branches that connect them, and the tree of life that continues to grow.
For the Daaccii, the Bachoo, and the Jiillee, the story is still being written. New generations will add their names to the great genealogical tree, but they will never forget that they are branches of a mighty trunk: Tuulamaa, child of Booranaa, heir to a civilization that has weathered the storms of history and emerged still standing, still proud, still Oromo.
Sources and Further Reading:
- Haramaya University Studies on Tuulamaa Genealogy
- Gadaa Tuulamaa Structures (2026 AMN Reports)
- Oromo Oral Tradition
- Historical Research on Booranaa Lineages
“The tree that knows its roots can withstand any storm.” — Oromo Proverb
#Tuulamaa #Daaccii #Bachoo #Jiillee #Oromoo #Booranaa #Gadaa #OromoHistory #OromoGenealogy
Under the Odaa Tree: The Living Legacy of the Ituu Oromo
In the highlands of eastern Oromia, the roots of the Odaa tree (sycamore fig) stretch deep into the earth, just as the traditions of the Oromo people extend into the fabric of history. Among the most storied branches of the Oromo nation is the Ituu, a community whose identity is woven from the threads of ancient lineage, a sophisticated socio-political system, and a resilient spirit of justice. To understand the Ituu is to journey into the heart of the Oromo civilization, where the past is not merely remembered but lived.
The Ancestral Tree: From Murawwaa to Ituu
The Ituu are not a people without a past; they are a clear and significant branch on the vast Oromo genealogical tree. According to both oral tradition and contemporary scholarship, the lineage flows from Oromoo to Bareentuu (or Bareentuma), then to Murawwaa, and from Murawwaa springs the Ituu. A 2026 study by Jimma University confirms this ancestral link, placing Ituu firmly within the Murawwaa Barentuu family.
The Ituu themselves are divided into two primary clans, forming the backbone of their social structure:
- Galaan, with sub-clans such as Baabboo, Gaadullaa, and Elelle.
- Kurraa (Kuraa), with sub-clans such as Baayee, Addaayyo, Arroojjii, and Waayyee.
This is just one layer of a complex organizational system. Under the Gulantaa Odaa or Tumaa Heeraa (customary law), the Ituu are further organized into two major houses: Mana-Ituu (the House of Ituu) and Mana-Baabboo (the House of Baabboo). This dual structure underscores that for the Ituu, identity is a multi-faceted concept, governed by both bloodline and law.
Gadaa: The Soul of Oromo Governance
For the Ituu, as for all Oromo, the Gadaa system is the lifeblood of their society. It is far more than a political structure; it is a comprehensive philosophy that governs every aspect of life. It provides a framework for:
- Political Leadership: A system of elected officials with fixed terms, ensuring a democratic transfer of power.
- Justice (Heera): A legal system that predates modern courts, offering a way to resolve disputes and maintain order.
- Peace (Araara): A defined process for reconciliation and conflict resolution.
- Social Organization: A structure that defines the roles and responsibilities of individuals within the community.
- Spiritual Life: A connection to the divine and the natural world through rituals.
Odaa Bultum: The Parliament of the People
Central to the Ituu and wider Barentuu Oromo history is Odaa Bultum. This site in Hararghe served as a colossal Gadaa assembly center, a place where the community would gather to make laws, elect leaders, and settle disputes. It was the “parliament” under the shade of the Odaa tree, where the echoes of debate and the spirit of democracy were cultivated for generations.
Here, the voices of the people were heard through the Caffee (assembly), and the foundation of their society—Heera (law)—was debated and set. It was a place where the spiritual and the political converged to build a cohesive society.
Gumaa: A Path from Bloodshed to Brotherhood
Perhaps the most profound expression of Ituu culture is the institution of Gumaa. Often translated simply as “blood compensation,” Gumaa is actually a complex, restorative justice system. A 2026 Jimma University study highlights its true purpose: it is not solely about retribution but about reconciliation.
Gumaa is a process that transforms conflict, seeking to stop the cycle of violence and reintegrate offenders back into the community. It is a testament to the Ituu belief that even in the face of grave wrongs, the ultimate goal is peace and social harmony. The system includes specific legal frameworks such as Heera Diinoo, Heera Amboo, and Heera Danuu.
The Rituals and the Voices of the People
The cultural life of the Ituu is rich with ceremony. The Korbeessaa–Goromtii ritual, for instance, involved the sacrifice of goats to invoke peace, seek victory in conflict, and predict social and natural outcomes. It was a way of seeking divine guidance for the community’s journey.
Importantly, the Ituu social structure also features a powerful institution for women: Siiqqee. This is not merely a tradition but a social force that gave women a formal voice in matters of justice, peace, and reconciliation. It stands as a powerful testament to the Oromo society’s recognition of the vital role of women in maintaining social order and integrity.
A Living Tradition
Today, the Ituu Oromo stand at a crossroads of history. Their traditional systems—the Gadaa, the Heera, and the Gumaa—are not relics of a bygone era. They are living institutions that continue to provide a framework for justice and identity in a rapidly changing world. The genealogy from Murawwaa to Ituu is not just a list of names but a testament to a civilization that built a sophisticated society rooted in democracy, justice, and a profound respect for community.
The story of the Ituu is a story of resilience—a reminder that the roots of the Odaa tree, and the culture it represents, are deep and enduring.
Sources:
- Boru Musa Burka & Jira Mekonnen Choroke, “Gumaa beyond Compensation,” Gadaa Journal, 2026.
- Boru Musa Burqa & Dejene Gemechu Chala, “Korbeessaa-Goromtii Ritual,” Gadaa Journal, 2022.
- Admasu Feleke & Deressa Debu, “Oromo Historical Heritage: Historical Significance of Odaa Bultum Gadaa Assembly,” Jimma University.
A New Chapter in Storytelling: African Australians Take the Mic
(ONA, 1 September 2026)-In a powerful step towards reshaping Australia’s cultural landscape, the Victorian Multicultural Commission, in partnership with Blacksand Pictures, recently hosted a community consultation with Victoria’s African Australian community. The focus? Media representation, authentic storytelling, and the urgent need for African Australians to control their own narratives.
The message was clear: the time for passive representation is over. Australian media must create meaningful opportunities for African Australians to tell their own stories, in their own voices. This isn’t just about checking diversity boxes—it’s about building a media landscape where lived experiences are portrayed with depth, nuance, and authenticity .
This need for self-representation is not new. Mimo Mukii, an emerging producer and filmmaker, began their filmmaking journey researching the necessity of African Australian self-representation in media. As Mukii observes, “It is getting better. But there are still barriers for people to get into the industry. Big companies, broadcasters, governments, whatever—taking a risk on emerging storytellers is—I think—what’s going to change that” .
The community consultation set the stage for exactly that kind of risk-taking.
A Feast of Stories
Following the discussion, attendees were treated to the premiere of Tastes of Africa, a three-part documentary series that celebrates the rich cultural heritage of African cuisine and its diaspora in Melbourne.
Produced by Blacksand Pictures’ Kauthar Abdulalim and written and directed by Rendah Haj, the series takes viewers on a sensory journey through Melbourne’s kitchens, community cook-ups, and hidden eateries . Hosted by Zambian-born filmmaker, historian, and author Santilla Chingaipe—recognised by the United Nations as one of the most influential people of African descent in the world in 2019—the series weaves together observational documentary and intimate first-person narration .
Viewers are guided by the traditional wisdom of African aunties, while also seeing younger African Australians boldly reinterpreting recipes for a new generation. As Kauthar Abdulalim explains, “Tastes of Africa reflects the kind of storytelling Blacksand Pictures is committed to culturally grounded, audience-facing, and globally resonant. This series celebrates African Australian communities with intimacy and joy, while creating space for stories that have long been underrepresented in Australia’s factual landscape”.
Supported by principal production funding from Screen Australia, in association with VicScreen, the series marks a significant investment in African Australian storytelling. Distribution partner African Australian will make the series available to audiences on YouTube, with plans for an international screening tour across Africa later in the year.
Building Momentum
The community consultation and Tastes of Africa premiere are part of a broader movement to amplify African Australian voices. Initiatives like the African Australian Creative Media Grants, administered by Ubuntu Project, provide $10,000 grants to support platform development and content creation by African Australian creatives. These grants are helping to build a sustainable storytelling ecosystem, enabling individuals and organisations to create, distribute, and market their work.
As African Professionals of Australia noted upon being named among grant recipients, this support is “critical” for “amplifying the voices, stories, and innovation of African Australians across media and the arts”.
What’s Next
A summary report from the community consultation, prepared by @cinespace_inc, will be released soon. In the meantime, audiences can watch the first episode of Tastes of Africa on YouTube now by following @blacksandpictures and @africanaustralian.
As Mimo Mukii reflects, creating authentic representation requires institutional support and a willingness to take risks on emerging storytellers. With projects like Tastes of Africa and growing community-led initiatives, Victoria is proving that when African Australians tell their own stories, everyone benefits. The future of Australian storytelling is more diverse, more authentic, and more delicious than ever.
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Stay tuned: Follow @cinespace_inc for the upcoming summary report from the community consultation. Watch Tastes of Africa on YouTube via @blacksandpictures and @africanaustralian.
Toki Be’a: The Dawro Nation’s Ancient Festival of Reconciliation, Forgiveness, and Hope
In the southwest of Ethiopia, as the rainy season draws to a close and the constellations begin their silent, celestial dance, a profound transformation occurs. The land, once drenched and dark, prepares for a new dawn. This is the season of renewal, a time when the Dawro people, keepers of an ancient and vibrant heritage, celebrate their most sacred tradition: Toki Be’a.
More than just a new year’s celebration, Toki Be’a is a profound cultural institution—a time for mending broken bonds, offering forgiveness, and embracing a future filled with hope. It is a festival that harmoniously weaves together spirituality, community, and the natural world.
A People of the Stars: The Calendar of the Ancestors
The Dawro nation is a community with a unique history, possessing its own indigenous governance system, complete with a “Kati” (a traditional king or chief) and a distinct calendar. This ancient calendar is not a rigid, mathematically fixed system. Instead, it is a living wisdom passed down through generations.
The date of Toki Be’a is not arbitrarily chosen. It is determined by the “cultural fathers”—wise elders who are master observers of the natural world. They meticulously study the movements of the stars, the moon, and the sun. They read the changing weather patterns and note the subtle transformations in local plant life. This profound understanding of astronomy and ecology allows them to pinpoint the exact day when the old season ends and the new one begins. It is a testament to a sophisticated indigenous knowledge system that has sustained the community for centuries.
When the final harvest is gathered and the fields lie fallow, the community knows it is time to give thanks to their Creator and prepare for the festival.
The Heart of the Festival: Reconciliation and Renewal
The true beauty of Toki Be’a lies in its powerful social values. It is, first and foremost, a festival of peace.
In the days leading up to the celebration, a remarkable process unfolds. Deep-seated grievances, old quarrels, and misunderstandings that have divided families, neighbors, and clans are brought before community elders. In a spirit of justice and compassion, these elders facilitate a process of reconciliation. Grudges are released, apologies are offered, and forgiveness is granted. It is a time when long-estranged family members are reunited at a shared table, and the community is knit back together as one.
This makes Toki Be’a a deeply emotional and transformative experience. It is a time when the weight of the past is lifted, and the community collectively chooses to move forward in unity and hope.
A Feast for All: Culture, Charity, and Nature’s Care
The celebration itself is a vibrant spectacle of Dawro culture. The air fills with the aroma of traditional feasts prepared with bula (false banana), qocho, and butter. People adorn themselves in their most beautiful cotton garments, complemented by intricate hand and neck ornaments. The occasion is brought to life with special Toki Be’a songs, whose melodies have been passed down through the ages, carrying the stories and wisdom of the ancestors.
The spirit of generosity is central to the celebration. Those who have are expected to share with those who have not, reinforcing the community’s strong social bonds.
What makes Toki Be’a truly unique is its deep respect for all living things. On the day of the festival, the community extends its care to animals. Domestic animals are given special, nourishing feed to ensure they are full and content. This act symbolizes the interconnectedness of human well-being with the health of the natural world.
A Beacon for the Future
Toki Be’a is a magnificent testament to the rich cultural tapestry of Ethiopia. It represents a powerful, indigenous model of conflict resolution, social cohesion, and environmental stewardship.
Beyond its profound cultural and spiritual significance, the festival holds immense potential for cultural tourism. It has the power to attract visitors from around the world, eager to witness its unique ceremonies and learn from its ancient wisdom. Moreover, the seasonal gathering stimulates local trade and agricultural activity, providing an economic boost to the community.
In essence, Toki Be’a is the Dawro people’s magnificent connection between humanity, nature, and the cosmos. As the stars align and a new season begins, this ancient festival reminds the world that true renewal comes not just from the changing of the seasons, but from the strength of our communities, the depth of our forgiveness, and the power of our shared hope.
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About the Author: This article is adapted from a feature by Sisay Debebe, highlighting the invaluable cultural heritage of Ethiopia’s Dawro nation.
The Name and the Narrative: Reclaiming Oromo Identity Beyond “Habesha”
In the complex tapestry of the Horn of Africa, few threads are as deeply woven—or as fiercely contested—as the question of identity. For centuries, labels have been applied, histories have been written, and narratives have been constructed, often by those in power. But what happens when a people rise to say, “That name is not ours”?
A powerful statement from within the Oromo community cuts to the very heart of this question: “Habashaan jecha eenyummaa Oromoo ibsuu miti. Oromoon Habashaa miti.” This translates to: “‘Habesha’ does not express Oromo identity. An Oromo is not Habesha.” This is not a simple rejection of a label; it is a profound declaration of a distinct historical narrative, a reclamation of selfhood, and a bold assertion of a people’s independent journey through time and across the land they call home.
The Power of a Name
The term “Habesha” has historically served as a broad, unifying identifier for the peoples of the Ethiopian highlands, often associated with the ancient Aksumite civilization, the Orthodox Christian faith, and Semitic languages. For many, it is a term of pride, symbolizing a shared, ancient heritage.
However, for the Oromo people—the largest ethnic group in Ethiopia—this label often feels foreign and exclusionary. The assertion “Oromoon Habashaa miti” directly challenges the notion that “Habesha” is an all-encompassing term for all Ethiopians. Instead, it argues that the term is culturally and historically specific to a particular group and that it has been inaccurately and unfairly imposed upon the Oromo nation.
This rejection is a vital act of self-affirmation. It is a declaration that Oromo identity, with its own ancient traditions, its own language (Afaan Oromo), and its own sophisticated governance system (the Gadaa system), is independent and deserving of recognition on its own terms. It is a way of saying, “We are not a footnote in someone else’s history; we have our own story to tell.”
A Shared Journey: Revisiting the Origins
The second part of the statement offers a specific historical perspective on this shared geography: “Habashaan jecha Yaman irraa warra Abyssinia ofiin jedhan waliin gara biyya Oromoo-Oromiyaatti dhufee dha.” (“Habesha came to the land of Oromo-Oromia from Yemen together with those who call themselves Abyssinian.”)
This presents a powerful and deliberate counternarrative to the dominant historical accounts of the region. By asserting that both the ancestors of the “Abyssinians” and the Oromo people migrated into the region from a shared origin, this perspective challenges the traditional narrative that often places one group as indigenous and the other as later arrivals.
This framing redefines the historical relationship between the two communities. It moves the Oromo from a position of being perceived as “others” or “newcomers” in their own homeland to being co-architects of the region’s history. It suggests a shared, albeit not necessarily harmonious, arrival and cohabitation, thereby establishing an equal and ancient claim to the land of Oromia. This is a crucial point, as it aims to dismantle historical hierarchies and assert that the Oromo are not intruders but are, in fact, foundational to the region’s story.
The Land of Oromia: More Than a Place
This assertion of identity is intrinsically tied to a specific territory: Oromia. This vast and diverse region, stretching from the highlands to the lowlands, is the historic and ancestral homeland of the Oromo people. By connecting the narrative of arrival directly to “the land of Oromo-Oromia,” the statement anchors Oromo identity in a tangible, sacred geography.
It is a powerful reminder that identity is not an abstract concept; it is rooted in the mountains, rivers, and plains where a people’s history was lived and written. For the Oromo, the struggle for identity is inseparable from the struggle for their cultural, political, and territorial rights within Oromia. Declaring that the “Habesha” came to their land, and not the other way around, is a profound reclamation of both history and territory.
A Continuing Dialogue
The statement provided is a potent contribution to an ongoing and essential conversation about identity, history, and power in the Horn of Africa. It challenges the monolithic narratives that have often dominated the national discourse and demands a more inclusive, accurate, and multi-vocal understanding of the past.
For the Oromo people, the declaration “Oromoon Habashaa miti” is not an act of division, but one of definition. It is a call to be seen, understood, and respected on their own terms. It opens a vital dialogue about how history is written, who gets to write it, and how we can build a future that honors the full and complex story of all the peoples in the region. The debate over identity is far from settled, but it is a debate that is crucial for any nation seeking to forge a just and inclusive future.
A Giant Returns to the Soil: Abbaa Gadaa Liiban Jaldessa Laid to Rest in Areero (1967-2026)
The plains of Areero, under the vast and unyielding sky of Borana, fell silent. The echoes of cattle bells and the murmur of the wind through ancient acacia trees seemed to pause, as a community—and indeed, a nation—gathered to bid farewell to one of its greatest sons. Abbaa Gadaa Liiban Jaldessa, the 69th custodian of the sacred Gadaa staff and a revered guardian of Oromo law, was laid to rest in his homeland on a somber day that marked the end of an era.
At the age of 59, the leader whose life was a testament to the enduring strength of indigenous governance passed away on December 29, 2026, while receiving medical treatment in Addis Ababa. His death sent a wave of profound grief—a Rifuu—from the highlands of Ethiopia to the savannahs of Kenya, a sorrow felt by all who knew the weight of his wisdom and the depth of his commitment.
A Life of Service to the Gadaa
Liiban Jaldessa was more than a leader; he was the embodiment of the Gadaa system’s highest ideals. As the 69th Abbaa Gadaa, he was a living constitution, a judge, a father, and a protector of the Borana people. His life was dedicated to the preservation and advancement of the ancient Oromo governance system, which for centuries has stood as one of the world’s most sophisticated indigenous democracies.
Gadaa elders and scholars who paid tribute to him spoke of a man of unwavering principle. He was described as a “pillar of the community,” a leader whose influence extended far beyond the ceremonial. His tenure was marked by a fierce dedication to justice, the protection of Oromia’s historic boundaries, and the strengthening of the social fabric that binds Oromo communities across the borders of Ethiopia and Kenya.
Reviving the Ancient Assembly
Among his most significant achievements was the revival of the Dibbee Eeldalloo Assembly, a crucial Gadaa institution that had lain dormant for several generations. This assembly is not merely a meeting; it is the heart of Oromo democracy, where elders and community members gather to deliberate on matters of law, peace, and the future of the people.
By breathing new life into this ancient forum, Abbaa Gadaa Liiban ensured that the voice of the people would continue to be heard. He re-established a critical channel for justice and reconciliation, reaffirming that true governance is not imposed from above but emerges from the collective wisdom of the community. This act alone cemented his legacy as a unifier and a visionary.
A Leader for All
The attendance at his funeral was a powerful testament to the reach of his influence. Gadaa leaders from across the region stood alongside government officials, and a vast sea of public mourners from both Ethiopia and Kenya came to pay their final respects.
A notable presence was that of Marsabit Governor Mohamed Mohamud Ali, whose attendance underscored the cross-border significance of Abbaa Gadaa Liiban’s work. Governor Ali honored the leader’s immense contributions to fostering peaceful and cooperative relations between communities living on either side of the national border. He called on all who were present to uphold Liiban’s legacy of unity, emphasizing that the bonds he forged should be sustained and strengthened for generations to come.
This intergovernmental and cross-border presence highlighted a profound truth: Abbaa Gadaa Liiban was not just a leader of the Borana, but a symbol of peace and cooperation for the entire region.
A Legacy Etched in the Land
Abbaa Gadaa Liiban Jaldessa left behind a large and proud family—50 children, 13 sons and 37 daughters—who carry his name and his spirit into the future. But his true legacy is woven into the very fabric of the Oromo nation.
He was a man who stood firm in the face of challenges, who walked the length of disputed borders to assert his people’s claims, and who worked tirelessly to ensure that the “Habesha” label would not diminish the proud, independent identity of his people. He believed in the Gadaa’s power to resolve conflict, its wisdom to guide the community, and its resilience to survive through the ages.
As the earth of Areero received his body, the community received his spirit. His final message, his Dhaamsa, is a call to action: to remain united, to uphold the law, and to continue the struggle for justice and recognition.
The Farewell of a Nation
The burial ceremony in Areero was more than a funeral; it was a declaration. It was a declaration that the Gadaa system lives on, that its leaders are honored, and that its traditions will not fade into history. It was a declaration that the Oromo people, from the plains of Borana to the hills of Kenya, stand together.
In the words of the elders who mourned him, “Mataan Dhalootaa Lafa Ga’e Du’aan Lafa Hinhanqatu”—”The head of a generation that has touched the ground does not leave the ground empty.” Abbaa Gadaa Liiban Jaldessa touched the ground with his life, and his legacy will continue to grow from the soil of his homeland.
The son of Borana has returned to his ancestors. But for his people, he is not gone. He has become a star in their sky, a voice in their council, and a timeless guide for the path ahead.
UNDERSTANDING THE TRAUMA TREE
Why Addressing Symptoms Alone Isn’t Enough
🌳 “We can take off the leaves, but the tree keeps growing until we get to the root.”
This powerful metaphor reveals a truth that modern mental health care is only beginning to fully embrace: that true healing from trauma requires more than just managing symptoms. It demands that we dig deeper—right down to the roots.
The numbers tell a sobering story. Research shows that 70% of individuals experience trauma at some point in their lives. Yet for far too many, the path to recovery remains frustratingly elusive. Why? Because we have been treating the leaves while ignoring the roots.
THE LEAVES – HOW TRAUMA MANIFESTS
Trauma does not announce itself with a single, obvious signal. Instead, it manifests in a tangled canopy of symptoms that can be as bewildering as they are debilitating.
Hypervigilance and anxiety – The body remains on high alert, scanning for danger even in the safest environments. The nervous system, once triggered, struggles to return to calm.
Flashbacks and nightmares – The past refuses to stay in the past. Traumatic memories intrude without warning, forcing the individual to relive moments of terror again and again.
Panic attacks and dissociation – The mind and body disconnect. Some feel as though they are watching themselves from outside their own body. Others experience overwhelming waves of terror that seem to come from nowhere.
Depression and emotional numbing – Feeling nothing becomes a defence mechanism. The heart hardens to protect itself, but in doing so, it also loses the capacity for joy, connection, and hope.
Substance abuse and insomnia – Sleep becomes a battleground. Substances offer a temporary escape, but they also deepen the wound, creating a cycle of dependency that further obscures the underlying pain.
These are the leaves. They are visible. They are painful. And they demand attention.
But treating symptoms alone leads to temporary relief—not true healing. The leaves may be trimmed, but the tree continues to grow, fed by hidden forces beneath the surface.
WHAT FEEDS THE TREE – BARRIERS TO HEALING
If the leaves are symptoms, what nourishes the tree and keeps it alive? What prevents healing from taking root?
Stigma and labelling – Society often reduces trauma survivors to their symptoms. “You’re just anxious.” “You’re depressed.” “You need to get over it.” These labels, however well-intentioned, can become self-fulfilling prophecies. They define the person by their struggle rather than their resilience.
Lack of trauma-informed treatment – Many therapeutic approaches still focus on managing behaviour rather than understanding its origins. Without a framework that acknowledges the pervasive impact of trauma, treatment can feel like rearranging deck chairs on the Titanic.
Misdiagnosis and limited support – Trauma symptoms often mimic other conditions. Depression, anxiety disorders, and even ADHD can be misdiagnosed when the root cause—trauma—remains unidentified. Limited access to appropriate mental health services compounds the problem, leaving many to navigate their recovery alone.
These are the soil conditions that allow the trauma tree to thrive. Change the soil, and you change the tree.
THE ROOTS – ORIGINAL TRAUMA
To truly heal, we must go where the pain began.
Childhood abuse and neglect – The earliest wounds often cut the deepest. When a child’s developing brain is exposed to chronic stress or betrayal, it shapes the architecture of their nervous system, setting patterns that persist into adulthood.
Accidents and medical trauma – A single moment can change everything. Car crashes, serious injuries, and terrifying medical procedures can leave lasting psychological scars that are often overlooked.
War, terrorism, and violence – For survivors of conflict, the trauma is not a single event but a sustained assault on the sense of safety and humanity. The effects ripple across generations.
Natural disasters and grief – Loss on a massive scale, whether through earthquake, flood, or pandemic, shatters the illusion that we are safe in our world. Grief becomes complicated when it is intertwined with collective trauma.
Systemic oppression and discrimination – For marginalised communities, trauma is not an isolated experience but a chronic reality. Racism, sexism, homophobia, and other forms of oppression create ongoing wounds that demand healing at both the individual and societal levels.
These are the roots. They are deep. They are tangled. And they are often hidden from view.
But evidence shows trauma-informed interventions address both the symptoms AND the root causes, leading to real recovery and improved wellbeing for those struggling with PTSD, anxiety, and depression.
THE PATH TO ROOT-LEVEL HEALING
True healing requires a shift in perspective. It means moving from “What is wrong with you?” to “What happened to you?” It means recognising that symptoms are not weaknesses but adaptations—the mind’s way of protecting itself from overwhelming pain.
Trauma-informed care offers a different approach. It asks:
- Safety first – Healing cannot begin without a sense of physical and emotional safety.
- Choice and control – Trauma strips away agency. Recovery restores it.
- Collaboration – Healer and client walk together, not as expert and patient, but as partners.
- Trustworthiness – Transparency and consistency rebuild the trust that trauma shattered.
- Empowerment – The goal is not to fix the person but to help them reclaim their strength.
READY TO FINALLY ADDRESS TRAUMA AT THE ROOTS?
The journey to healing is not easy. It is not linear. But it is possible.
For those ready to begin, the “You Are Not Broken” Trauma Healing Workbook for Beginners offers a gentle, evidence-based guide to genuine emotional healing. Designed by trauma therapists, this workbook provides:
- Practical exercises for understanding trauma responses
- Grounding techniques for managing symptoms
- Guided reflections to explore the roots of pain
- A compassionate framework for self-discovery and recovery
The leaves can be trimmed. The soil can be nourished. The roots can be healed.
Start your journey today.
#TraumaHealing #TraumaInformedCare #MentalHealthRecovery #PTSD #EmotionalHealing
Image Credit – Unknown
📖 Featured Article
Understanding the Trauma Tree: A Clinical Perspective
The metaphor of the trauma tree is more than poetic imagery—it is grounded in neuroscience and clinical practice. When trauma occurs, it impacts the brain’s fear circuitry, particularly the amygdala, hippocampus, and prefrontal cortex. The “leaves” we see—hypervigilance, flashbacks, dissociation—are direct expressions of this rewired nervous system.
Treating only these symptoms without addressing the underlying trauma is like repeatedly taking painkillers for a broken leg. The pain may temporarily subside, but the bone remains unhealed.
Trauma-informed therapy, by contrast, works to rewire the brain’s response to threat. Through approaches such as EMDR, somatic experiencing, and cognitive processing therapy, individuals can process traumatic memories, integrate them into their life story, and reduce their power over the present moment.
The “roots” of trauma often lie in attachment wounds—relationships that should have been safe but were instead a source of danger. Healing these roots involves rebuilding the capacity for trust, connection, and self-compassion.
Remember: You are not broken. You are wounded. And wounds, with the right care, can heal.
This article is part of a series on trauma-informed mental health care. For more resources, follow our page and join the conversation on trauma recovery, resilience, and healing.
Advocacy for Oromia 