Category Archives: Diaspora
“DUGDA HIN DHUGATAN, HUNDA HIN DUBBATAN”: A Reflection on Truth, Struggle and Sacrifice in the Oromo Liberation Movement
By Adugna Kesso AduBoru/430
Introduction: The Weight of Untold Truths
There is an Oromo proverb that carries profound wisdom: “Dugda hin dhugatan hunda hin dubbatan” — “Do not drink from the back; do not speak from the back.” This saying warns against acting or speaking without full knowledge, without facing things directly. It calls for integrity, courage and a willingness to engage with truth head-on, rather than from behind or from a place of concealment.
In reflecting on the journey of the Oromo liberation struggle, this proverb takes on a deeper meaning. It reminds us that we cannot claim to understand the struggle, its sacrifices and its meaning, if we only observe it from a distance or speak about it without having lived it. True understanding comes from direct experience, from being in the midst of the fire, not from standing on the sidelines.
The Struggle Is the Teacher
Much has been written and spoken about the Oromo liberation movement. Some speak of it as outsiders looking in, analysing and categorising, as if it were a subject to be dissected in a laboratory. But those who have lived the struggle know that it cannot be reduced to theories or abstract discussions. As the reflection states: “Waan taanee fi goone hunduu waan itti amannee itti seenneedha” — everything we have endured and done, we entered into it with full belief and commitment.
The struggle is not a matter of taking sides superficially or speaking in ways that please different audiences. It is not about saying one thing here and another there. The “DIDDA MASTER PLAN” — the overarching strategy of resistance — is better understood when we speak about it directly rather than avoiding it. There is a gap between remembering and doing, between speaking about struggle and actually living it.
What We Have Seen and Endured
The reflection speaks powerfully of the experiences of those who have been at the heart of the liberation movement:
“Waan qabsoo keessatti nurra gahee fi argine garuu mataan isaa qabsoodha” — But what has befallen us and what we have seen in the struggle is the struggle itself. The struggle is not separate from the experiences; it is the very fabric of those experiences.
The question is asked with raw honesty: “Mana fincaaniirra taa’aa maaf nutti ajaa’e hin jedhamu” — Why should we be told to sit on the edge of a latrine? This is a reference to how Oromo people have been marginalised, pushed to the periphery of their own lands and treated as if they do not belong at the centre of their own history.
The reflection then poses a challenging question: “Gabrummaa morma nu gahe keessa osoo jirruu shiraan hidhamne, shiraan ajjeefamne yoo jenne eessa gabroomneree?” — If we say we were tied with ropes and killed with ropes while we were in the slavery that reached our necks, where were we free?
This is a profound acknowledgment of the reality of Oromo subjugation under Ethiopian imperial rule. It does not deny the suffering but places it in context: slavery and oppression did not happen only to others; they happened to us. And yet, even within that slavery, there were those who chose to sell themselves for personal gain and those who maintained their integrity.
Betrayal, Survival and Commitment
One of the most painful aspects of any liberation struggle is the reality of betrayal. The reflection does not shy away from this:
“Gabrummaa keessatti namoota gaggaarii osoo hin taane namoota nama gurguruu bira darbanii of mataa isaaniiyyuu faayidaa fi fedhiitti of gurguranii jiraataan danuu beekna” — In slavery, we know that there are not only good people, but also those who pass by selling others and even sell themselves for their own benefit and desires.
This is a honest reckoning with human weakness and the reality that not everyone who starts the journey finishes it. Some are bought with personal interests, with selfish desires, with the false promises of the enemy. They become informants, betrayers, those who dig holes for their own people.
But the reflection also honours those who remained steadfast:
“Gabrummaa fi gidiraa saba keenyarra gahu jibbanii warri qabsoo eegalan aarsaa fi wareegama gaafataman hunda hanga lubbuu isaanii itti kitimanitti kan qabsa’aan gufuun qabsoo keessatti osoo isaan muudatin hafee miti” — Those who hated slavery and oppression and began the struggle, offering all sacrifices and responsibilities until they gave their very lives, they are the ones who are the foundation of the struggle.
The Reality of Disunity
The reflection is also a warning about the dangers of division and betrayal within the movement:
“Qabsoo geggeessitu keessa akkuma firri qabsoo jiru diinoonni, gantootnii fi galtuun danuudha” — In the movement, there are enemies, traitors and those who sell out, just as there are true fighters.
This is not a cynical statement but a realistic one. The struggle is not a romantic venture. It is a battlefield where loyalties are tested and where some who begin with you will not finish with you. The reflection continues:
“Jaalli kee waliin qabsootti seente hundi hanga dhumaa na waliin deema jettee hin eegiin” — Do not expect that all your comrades who entered the struggle with you will go with you to the end.
Some will become weak and turn back. Some will reveal secrets out of exhaustion or fear. Some will be bought by personal interests and sell you out. And the hardest part: “Kan boolla si buusee, ragaa sitti ta’us irra caalaa namuma waliin qabsoo eegaltee fi waan hunda waliin taate” — The one who digs a hole for you, who becomes a witness against you, is most often someone you began the struggle with and shared everything with.
This is a painful truth that many liberation movements have faced. The greatest betrayals often come from those closest to us.
The Cost of Silence
The reflection then turns to a difficult but necessary observation:
“Amma nan gabaabsa gidiraa fi dararaa mooraa diinaa keessatti agarree fi shira adda addaa agarree fi warra kaan irra gahe hunda gabrummaatu fide” — I will summarise: the poverty, the hardship, the suffering, the various deaths, and everything that has befallen our people — all of it came from slavery.
This is the central thesis. The condition of the Oromo people under Ethiopian rule, with all its manifestations of dispossession, marginalisation, violence and economic exploitation, is rooted in a system that treated Oromia as a colony and the Oromo people as subjects to be dominated.
And yet, the reflection acknowledges that a choice has been made:
“Sana immoo Bilisummaa Saba keenyaatti uwwisuu fi Abbaa Biyyummaa Oromoo deebisuuf qabsoo eegalame xumura itti gochuuf ta’uu beeknee waan dubbachuu qabnu kumaatama dubbachuurra callisuu filanne” — But we have chosen silence, knowing that we must complete the struggle that began to liberate our people and restore the sovereignty of Oromia, rather than saying thousands of things that need to be said.
This is not a silence born of fear. It is a strategic silence, born of the understanding that the time for words has given way to the time for action. When the struggle is not yet won, words alone cannot achieve liberation.
The Courage to Speak Honestly
The reflection concludes with a powerful statement about the right to speak with authority:
“Hanga Leencoonni seenaa isaanii barreeffatanitti warruma leenca ajjeesetu leenca ofiin jedha” — Until the lions have their own historians, the story of the hunt will always glorify the hunter.
This is a call for Oromo people to write their own history, to tell their own stories, to ensure that the narrative of the struggle is not left to those who would distort or erase it. Those who actually kill the lion — those who do the work of liberation — are the ones who have the right to speak.
“QABSOON HANGA BILISUMMAAATTI!” — The struggle continues until freedom!
Conclusion: Truth-Telling as Resistance
The reflection of Adugna Kesso AduBoru/430 is a powerful contribution to the broader project of Oromo truth-telling. It does not offer an easy narrative. It does not romanticise the struggle or ignore its internal challenges. Instead, it offers a truthful account — one that acknowledges sacrifice, betrayal, suffering and hope.
The proverb “Dugda hin dhugatan hunda hin dubbatan” reminds us that truth-telling requires direct engagement. We cannot speak of the struggle without having drunk from its cup. We cannot understand liberation without having walked its path. We cannot honour the martyrs without being willing to continue what they began.
Oromo truth-telling is not about erasing or rewriting history. It is about finally telling more of it — from the voices of those who lived it, suffered for it and continue to fight for it. It is about ensuring that when the story of the Oromo struggle is told, it is told by those who were there, who saw, who endured and who chose to speak — not from the back, but from the front, with courage and honesty.
As Oromia moves towards a future of genuine freedom and reconciliation, it must do so grounded in truth — the kind of truth that does not turn away from difficult realities, that honours the sacrifices of the past and that commits to the completion of the struggle.
Bilisummaan Oromoo hin dhabamuu!
#OromooKuushGuddichaAfrikaa — The Oromo are the great backbone of Africa.
The Unfinished Story: Why Oromo Truth-Telling Matters
For generations, the history of Oromia has been told through a narrow lens—one that often excluded, silenced, or misrepresented Oromo voices and perspectives. Official accounts of Oromian history frequently omitted the full story, leaving gaps that have shaped not only how the past is understood but also how present-day realities are experienced. Oromo truth-telling seeks to change this by placing Oromo voices and lived experiences back at the centre of the narrative.
What Is Oromo Truth-Telling?
At its core, Oromo truth-telling means telling a fuller and more honest account of Oromia’s history. This includes confronting difficult chapters such as colonisation, dispossession, violence, child removals, stolen wages and discriminatory laws. But it also encompasses celebrating Oromo survival, resistance, cultures, knowledge and achievements. It is not about erasing or rewriting history—it is about finally telling more of it .
The concept emerges from a recognition that official versions of history have often been incomplete. As one study notes, the Ethiopian imperial conquest of Oromo territories from 1880 to 1974 involved not just military subjugation but a systematic process of land alienation, political domination and cultural marginalisation . The Oromo resistance against this imperial conquest, though significant, has frequently been downplayed or omitted from mainstream historical accounts.
The Historical Context
The Oromo people, one of the largest ethnic groups in the Horn of Africa, possess a rich political and cultural heritage that includes the Gadaa-Qaalluu system—a model of egalitarian governance, democracy and social organisation that predates many Western democratic institutions . This system, based on consensus-building principles like tchaffee and qixxee, demonstrates sophisticated democratic traditions that challenge portrayals of Oromo society as politically primitive.
Yet this heritage was disrupted by conquest. The Arsi Oromo resistance against Ethiopian imperial forces between 1880 and 1900, for instance, involved intense conflict where the introduction of firearms by imperial forces dramatically shifted the balance of power . The defeat that followed did not merely change political control—it established what scholars describe as a “feudal colonial order” in which Oromo lands were alienated and the Naftagna (settler-administrators) became dominant over local populations .
How Truth-Telling Happens
Truth-telling is not a single event but a process that can unfold through multiple channels. Oral histories, community projects, schools, museums, archives, memorials, public hearings and formal inquiries all serve as vehicles for recovering and amplifying Oromo perspectives. The principle guiding this work is that it should be led by the Oromo community, grounded in local history and handled respectfully. Meaningful action must follow—truth-telling is not just about speaking; it requires people to listen and respond.
Why It Matters Today
The past is not simply past. Discriminatory laws and policies from earlier eras continue to shape economic conditions, political representation and social relations in Oromia today. Understanding how systems of domination were structured—from taxation without representation to the informal structures of control examined in historical research—helps explain persistent inequalities .
Reconciliation cannot progress while difficult chapters remain unaddressed. Oromo truth-telling is not about assigning blame or fostering division. Rather, it is about creating the conditions for genuine reconciliation by ensuring that all parts of the story are acknowledged. A nation that avoids its uncomfortable history builds its future on unstable ground.
A Call to Listen
The Oromo truth-telling movement is a call not just for Oromo people to speak but for all Oromians—and indeed all who engage with Oromian history—to listen. It is an invitation to reckon with the full complexity of the past and to recognise the resilience and contributions of the Oromo people across generations. The survival of Oromo cultures, knowledge systems and identities in the face of colonisation and dispossession is itself a testament to the strength that truth-telling seeks to honour.
As Oromia considers its path forward, truth-telling offers a foundation. It does not promise easy answers, but it offers something essential: a fuller, more honest account of where we have been, so we can better understand where we are and thoughtfully choose where we are going.
Beyond the Echo: A Reflection on Unity, Memory, and the Path Forward
A Feature Article Based on the Reflections of Hinsarmuu Shiferaw
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In the quiet corridors of political memory, where the past whispers its lessons and the present demands its reckonings, there exists a voice that refuses to be silenced. It is a voice that has witnessed decades of struggle, felt the weight of collective sacrifice, and now calls for a moment of profound clarity. This is the voice of Hinsarmuu Shiferaw, whose recent reflections offer not just a chronicle of Oromo political history, but a roadmap for the soul of a movement at a critical crossroads.
“The words have been many,” Hinsarmuu writes, “and the ideas pouring forth are abundant. Yet among all these thoughts, there are those whose names we must hold tightly to our hearts.”
The Pillars of Memory
In a gesture that transcends mere remembrance, Hinsarmuu calls upon us to honor five individuals whose contributions have shaped the trajectory of the Oromo struggle:
1. Ob. Dirribsaa Daamxee – whose steadfast commitment to the cause became a beacon of resilience
2. Ob. Girmaa Xurunaa – whose vision helped chart the course of resistance
3. Ob. Jawaar Mohammad – whose intellectual contributions continue to reverberate
4. Ob. Ashennafii Addunya – whose global perspective bridged local struggles with universal aspirations
5. ABO – the collective embodiment of Oromo resistance, the movement that gave voice to millions
And alongside these, Dachaasa Wiirtu and others whose efforts, while perhaps less celebrated, formed the bedrock upon which the struggle was built.
The Turning Point: 1993 and Beyond
“We have held the struggle from 1993 in our grasp,” Hinsarmuu reflects, grounding us in a specific historical moment that marked a decisive shift in the Oromo political landscape. It is a reminder that the journey has been long, the sacrifices immense, and the stakes perpetually high.
But here lies the crux of Hinsarmuu’s message: “What has passed must not return.” The past, with all its triumphs and tribulations, serves as teacher rather than destination. The call is for clarity—for the movement to stand firm in its current position, to examine itself with unflinching honesty, and to chart a path illuminated by hard-won wisdom.
Five Pathways to Renewal
Hinsarmuu articulates a five-point vision for what the movement could achieve through this moment of reflection:
1. Comforting the Weary
Those who have lost sleep witnessing the movement torn apart deserve solace. The wounds of division run deep, and healing must begin with acknowledgment. Grief that has gone unrecognized must find its recognition; weariness that has been dismissed must find its rest.
2. Easing the Burden of Sacrifice
The blood and bone of our heroes—those who gave everything in Kenya and beyond—demands more than passive remembrance. Their sacrifice calls us to action, to ensure that what was given was not in vain.
3. Recalling Those Who Strayed
“Halagaa/orma harka fuudha dhaquu”—those who were led astray, who departed from the path. The movement must grapple with its losses, not through condemnation alone, but through a reckoning that seeks understanding and, where possible, reclamation.
4. Reclaiming Political Space
There exists a hidden plan from the post-Amman era to dismantle Oromo political participation as a unified people. This strategy seeks to scatter, to weaken, to atomize—a tactic of division that must be recognized and resisted. The call is to reinforce the collective political share that Oromos rightfully hold in the country’s governance.
5. Confronting the Instrumentalization of Faith
Perhaps most urgently, Hinsarmuu addresses the manipulation of religion—both internal and external—that seeks to divide and conquer. “The religion being weaponized against us,” he writes, “this new wave that seeks to entrap us”—must be met with unity, not fragmentation.
The Danger of Empty Rhetoric
“The harm that has come from excessive talk, from words that have been unleashed and scattered,” Hinsarmuu warns, “must be gathered and examined.” There is a call here for accountability, for the movement to own its missteps, to confront the ways in which division has been sown—sometimes intentionally, sometimes through carelessness.
The past, he insists, “offers no guarantees for the future.” The comfort of yesterday’s victories cannot shield us from tomorrow’s challenges. To assume otherwise is to court the very dangers that have plagued the movement before.
A Call to Action
The closing words of Hinsarmuu’s reflection carry both urgency and invitation:
“To my brothers and sisters: Stop where you stand. Look at what surrounds you. Consider what you have built—and what you have allowed to crumble.”
It is a call to presence, to awareness, to the kind of stillness that precedes true movement. In a world that demands constant action, Hinsarmuu asks for the courage to pause, to reflect, and to choose deliberately rather than reactively.
The Road Ahead
As Ethiopia continues its complex political transformation, and as the Oromo struggle navigates the treacherous waters of contemporary politics, the reflections of Hinsarmuu Shiferaw offer not just analysis but prescription. They remind us that movements are not merely collections of strategies and tactics; they are communities of memory, webs of relationship, and vessels of hope.
The path forward, Hinsarmuu suggests, lies neither in nostalgic return nor in reckless abandon, but in honest assessment and courageous adaptation. The names he calls to remembrance are not mere historical footnotes; they are living invitations to a different kind of politics—one rooted in accountability, animated by vision, and sustained by collective purpose.
“What we have endured must become what we have learned,” he seems to say. “And what we have learned must become what we do differently.”
The echo of his words invites us not to repeat the past, but to transcend it—to build a future worthy of the sacrifices that have brought us this far, and to ensure that those who come after will have less cause for grief and more reason for hope.
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This feature article draws on the personal reflections of Hinsarmuu Shiferaw, whose words speak to the enduring questions of political struggle, collective identity, and the transformative power of honest self-examination.
The Meaning and Solution of Oppression
Understanding the chains that bind, and the keys that unlock them
Introduction: Defining the Unspeakable
Oppression is a word that carries weight—the weight of centuries, the weight of tears, the weight of dreams deferred and lives diminished. It is a force that shapes not only the material conditions of human existence but the very contours of the human soul. Yet for all its ubiquity in human history, oppression remains poorly understood by those who have never felt its crushing hand.
To understand oppression is to understand the architecture of human suffering. To confront it is to embark on the most essential journey any people can undertake. To overcome it is to reclaim what was always rightfully ours: our dignity, our freedom, and our humanity.
Part One: The Architecture of Oppression
What Is Oppression?
Oppression is the systematic denial of human dignity and human rights. It is not merely individual acts of cruelty or isolated instances of injustice. Rather, it is a structure—a web of laws, customs, institutions, and beliefs designed to maintain the dominance of one group over another.
The oppressed are not simply people who experience hardship; they are people whose very existence is defined by forces beyond their control. Their identities, their aspirations, and their futures are circumscribed by systems that view them as less than fully human.
Oppression operates on multiple levels:
Political Oppression: The denial of voice, representation, and self-determination. When a people cannot choose their leaders, determine their laws, or shape their future, they are politically oppressed.
Economic Oppression: The extraction of wealth and labor without just compensation. When a people’s resources are plundered and their labor exploited, they are economically oppressed.
Cultural Oppression: The suppression of language, traditions, and identity. When a people’s history is erased and their culture denigrated, they are culturally oppressed.
Psychological Oppression: The internalization of inferiority. When a people comes to believe the lies told about them, they are psychologically oppressed.
The Colonial Model: A Case Study
The Oromo people offer a textbook example of comprehensive oppression. For over a century, they have been subjected to political marginalization, economic exploitation, cultural suppression, and psychological denigration under successive Ethiopian regimes.
“The Ethiopian Empire,” as the ABO’s analysis makes clear, “was built on a divisive nationalism that promotes ethnic chauvinism. This system of ethnic, historical, cultural, and religious division continues to be reinforced by powerful actors who benefit from it. Because the system is fundamentally based on oppression and multifaceted exploitation, nations are subjected to suffering without their fundamental rights.”
The colonization of the Oromo people did not follow the European model of overseas conquest. Instead, it was accomplished through internal expansion—an African empire building itself upon the subjugation of other African peoples. This is a particularly insidious form of oppression because it is often overlooked or denied by the international community.
The mechanisms of this oppression are familiar to students of colonial history:
- Conquest by Force: The military subjugation of Oromo territories through superior weaponry provided by European powers.
- Demographic Destruction: The systematic killing, displacement, and enslavement of the Oromo population.
- Cultural Erasure: The imposition of Amharic language and culture, the suppression of Oromo identity, and the rewriting of history.
- Economic Exploitation: The extraction of resources and labor to benefit the colonizing elite.
- Political Exclusion: The denial of representation and self-governance.
The Special Character of Oromo Oppression
The Oromo experience of oppression has unique characteristics that demand attention:
Denial of Existence: For decades, Oromo identity was not merely suppressed—it was denied. Oromo were told they did not exist as a distinct people, that their language was a “dialect,” that their culture was primitive.
Internal Colonization: Unlike colonies separated by oceans, the Oromo were colonized by their neighbors within the same continental space. This has made their struggle for liberation particularly complex, as the colonizer and colonized share geographic, economic, and administrative connections.
Religious Diversity: The Oromo people practice multiple faiths—Islam, Christianity, and the indigenous Waaqeffanna. Their oppression has been compounded by religious discrimination and the use of religious divisions to weaken resistance.
Massive Population: As the largest ethnic group in Ethiopia, the Oromo’s oppression affects the lives of tens of millions of people, making it one of the largest ongoing human rights crises on the African continent.
Part Two: The Anatomy of Liberation
What Is Liberation?
Liberation is not merely the absence of oppression. It is the presence of freedom in its fullest sense—political, economic, cultural, and psychological. A liberated people are not simply free from their oppressors; they are free to determine their own future, to develop their own culture, and to express their own identity.
Liberation is both a process and a destination. It is the journey from subjugation to self-determination, from silence to voice, from shame to pride, from fear to courage.
The Liberation Framework
The ABO’s understanding of liberation is comprehensive and principled. As articulated in its guiding documents:
1. Self-Determination Is Non-Negotiable
“The Oromo people and other oppressed peoples have the full right to decide freely whether to live independently or to unite through dialogue and mutual agreement.”
Self-determination is the foundation upon which all other freedoms are built. Without the right to determine their own political status, peoples cannot be said to be free.
2. Justice Is Universal
“The ABO’s struggle is for just liberation and the recognition of Oromo rights. The struggle waged by the Oromo people is just and rightful. This is a fundamental right recognized in the UN Charter.”
Justice is not a gift to be begged from oppressors; it is a right to be claimed. The international community has recognized this right through numerous treaties and declarations.
3. Unity Is Strength
“The ABO’s vision is a liberated Oromiya, free from colonial rule, with a sovereign Oromo government established. The foundation of our national unity is one country, one people, and one nation.”
The liberation struggle cannot succeed without unity. Divisions among the oppressed serve only the interests of the oppressor.
4. Solidarity Is Essential
“The ABO believes in mutual support and cooperation among peoples struggling for liberation. It has worked to unite oppressed peoples against the common enemy and develop solidarity.”
No people can liberate themselves in isolation. Solidarity among oppressed peoples and with progressive forces everywhere is essential to success.
Part Three: The Means of Liberation
The Question of Means
How is liberation achieved? This is perhaps the most debated question in the history of resistance movements. The ABO’s approach, like that of many liberation movements, combines multiple strategies:
1. Political Struggle
The ABO has pursued political solutions to the Ethiopian political crisis, engaging in dialogue, advocacy, and the articulation of a clear political program. The party’s Political Program, first released in 1974 and revised multiple times, provides a comprehensive vision for the resolution of Ethiopia’s political problems through peaceful means.
2. Armed Struggle
“Because successive Ethiopian governments—including the current one—have refused to respect Oromo rights, the ABO is waging an armed struggle to secure them.”
Armed struggle is not a first resort but a last resort, undertaken only when all peaceful avenues have been exhausted and when continued oppression leaves no other option.
3. International Advocacy
The ABO has worked to bring Oromo issues to the international stage, engaging with human rights organizations, international media, and governments. The movement has sought to build a coalition of support that can pressure the Ethiopian government to respect Oromo rights.
4. Grassroots Mobilization
The 2015 Qeerroo movement and the nationwide uprising across Oromiya demonstrated the power of grassroots mobilization. The ABO’s work to educate, organize, and empower the Oromo people creates the foundation for lasting change.
5. Institution Building
The ABO has invested heavily in building organizational structures that can sustain the struggle over the long term. This includes establishing branches in the diaspora and developing administrative and governance capacities.
Part Four: Challenges to Liberation
The Weight of Oppression
The oppressed carry not only the external weight of their oppressors but also the internal weight of their oppression. Overcoming this internalized inferiority is one of the greatest challenges of the liberation struggle.
Psychological Oppression: Generations of denigration and subjugation have taken a toll on the Oromo psyche. The liberation struggle is as much about reawakening pride and identity as it is about political change.
Economic Dependence: The economic structures of oppression create dependencies that make resistance difficult. Breaking these dependencies requires both political liberation and economic transformation.
Division and Cooptation: Oppressors have consistently used divide-and-rule strategies to weaken resistance. Co-opting elites from oppressed communities, creating proxies, and pitting groups against each other are standard tactics.
The Enemy’s Resources: The Ethiopian state has access to substantial resources—military power, international support, and the machinery of propaganda. These resources make the struggle asymmetrical and difficult.
Part Five: The Vision of Liberation
What Freedom Looks Like
The ABO’s vision is not merely negative—the absence of oppression—but positive—the presence of a free, just, and prosperous Oromiya.
Political Freedom: A democratic system in which Oromo and other peoples can determine their own governance, participate in decision-making, and hold their leaders accountable.
Economic Justice: A system in which the wealth of Oromiya benefits its people, where economic opportunity is available to all, and where exploitation is a thing of the past.
Cultural Renaissance: The flourishing of Oromo language, culture, and identity. The celebration of Oromo history and the recovery of what was suppressed.
Social Justice: A society in which all people—regardless of ethnicity, religion, or gender—are treated with dignity and equality.
Peace and Security: Freedom from the fear of violence, displacement, and persecution.
Regional Cooperation: A liberated Oromiya contributing to peace, stability, and cooperation in the Horn of Africa.
The Nature of Victory
Injifannoon egeree qabsoon Oromoo argatu waraana tokkootiin utuu hin taane, karaa dheeraa fi rakkisaa ta’ee jira. Waraanni tokko hin mo’atu; hojii dhaloota baay’ee keessaatti hojjetame. Of kennuun dhaloota ittaanuuf bu’uura dhiisuun, dadhaboon qajeelchuun, fi jajjaboon guddisuun.
Part Six: The International Dimension
A Common Struggle
The Oromo struggle is not an isolated phenomenon. It is part of a broader global movement for human rights, self-determination, and justice. From Palestine to Kashmir, from Western Sahara to Kurdistan, peoples around the world are engaged in similar struggles.
The ABO has sought to build solidarity with these movements, recognizing that the struggle against oppression is a universal human endeavor. As the party’s documents state:
“Individuals, organizations, and forces—from within and without the oppression—who recognize, respect, and support self-determination, democracy, and peace are friends of the Oromo struggle.”
The Response of the International Community
The international community’s response to the Oromo struggle has been mixed. While some human rights organizations and governments have raised concerns about the treatment of Oromo, others have remained silent or actively supported the Ethiopian government.
This mixed response reflects the geopolitics of the Horn of Africa—a region of strategic importance, where international actors have competing interests. The ABO has called on the international community to:
- Respect the right of the Oromo to self-determination
- Condemn the oppression and human rights violations in Oromiya
- Support a peaceful resolution to the political crisis
- Recognize the legitimacy of the Oromo liberation struggle
Part Seven: Lessons for All Peoples
The Universality of the Struggle
While the Oromo struggle is unique in its particularities, it offers lessons for all peoples seeking liberation:
1. Oppression Is a System, Not a Series of Incidents
Understanding the systemic nature of oppression is essential to overcoming it. Addressing individual injustices is insufficient; the system that produces them must be dismantled.
2. Liberation Requires Unity
Divisions among the oppressed serve only the oppressor. Building unity—across ethnic, religious, and political lines—is essential to success.
3. Hope Is a Weapon
Despair is the oppressor’s greatest ally. Maintaining hope, even in the darkest times, is an act of resistance.
4. Justice Is Universal
The principles of justice, dignity, and self-determination are not Western or African—they are human. They apply to all peoples, regardless of their circumstances.
5. The Struggle Is Long
Liberation is not achieved overnight. It requires patience, persistence, and the willingness to sacrifice today for the freedom of tomorrow.
Conclusion: The Path Forward
The oppression of the Oromo people is one of the great unresolved human rights crises of our time. For over a century, tens of millions of people have been subjected to political marginalization, economic exploitation, cultural suppression, and psychological denigration.
Yet the Oromo people have not been destroyed. They have maintained their identity, their culture, and their hope. They have built organizations, developed programs, and fought for their rights. They have refused to accept their oppression as permanent.
The solution to oppression is liberation—complete, comprehensive, and uncompromising liberation. This liberation must be political, economic, cultural, and psychological. It must restore the Oromo people to their rightful place among the free peoples of the world.
As the ABO’s vision declares: “A liberated Oromiya, free from colonial rule, with a sovereign Oromo government established.”
This is not merely a dream—it is a goal, achievable through sustained struggle, unity, sacrifice, and hope. The path is long, but the destination is certain. Justice will prevail. Freedom will come.
The question is not whether the Oromo will be liberated, but when. And when that day comes, it will be a victory not only for the Oromo people but for all those who believe in justice, dignity, and the fundamental equality of all human beings.
“Cunqursaa dhabamsiisee ummatni Oromoo akka mirga kana gonfatu godhuu dha. Kaayyoo kana bakkaan gahuuf, ABO qabsoo akeeka dimokraasii irratti hundaa’e gaggeessa.”
Oppression must be eliminated so that the Oromo people may attain their rights. To achieve this goal, the ABO wages a struggle based on a democratic ideology.
The struggle continues. The victory is certain. And the freedom of the Oromo people will be the freedom of all. Afaan Oromoon kun: Qabsoon itti fufa. Injifannoon murteessa. Bilisummaan Oromoo bilisummaa hundaati.
This feature article draws on the foundational documents of the Oromo Liberation Front (ABO), including the Political Program, Constitution, and organizational analyses. It reflects the principles and vision of the Oromo liberation struggle as articulated by the ABO.
The Strong and the Weak: Lessons in Resilience from the Oromo Liberation Struggle
In the crucible of resistance, the difference between victory and defeat lies not in the strength of the enemy, but in the resolve of the fighter
The struggle for liberation is a crucible that tests the very soul of a people. It separates the determined from the disillusioned, the resilient from the defeated. In the long and arduous journey of the Oromo people toward freedom, two archetypes have emerged—the strong fighter and the weak fighter. Their stories offer profound lessons not just for the Oromo liberation movement, but for every struggle for justice and self-determination across the globe.
The Weak Fighter: A Study in Self-Destruction
When the pressures of struggle mount, when the enemy seems overwhelming, and when the path forward appears blocked, a certain type of fighter emerges—one who, in their inability to challenge the external enemy, turns their frustration inward.
“Qabsaa’ota dadhaboo yeroo diinaa fi caasaa diinaa dhiibuu dadhaban kan ofii ijaaranii keessa darban of jalatti diiguu jalqabu.”
The weak fighter, unable to strike the enemy or dismantle their structures, begins to destroy themselves. Frustration gives way to disillusionment; disillusionment gives way to despair; despair gives way to self-destruction. The organization they once served becomes a target of their internal grievances. The comrades they once marched alongside become objects of suspicion and blame. The cause they once championed becomes a source of bitterness.
“Injifannoo egeree otuu hin taane, kufaatii isaanii farrisuun dhalooti akka abdii muratu taasisu.”
The tragedy of the weak fighter is that their legacy becomes not victory but fragmentation. Rather than building a future of freedom, they leave behind a legacy of division and hopelessness. Future generations, inheriting the wreckage of internal conflict, come to believe that the struggle itself was futile.
This is the greatest danger the weak fighter poses—not just to themselves, but to the collective dream of liberation. When fighters turn against each other, when organizations dissolve into feuding factions, when the energy that should be directed against oppression is consumed by internal strife, the enemy wins without firing a shot.
The Strong Fighter: Resilience in the Face of Adversity
In stark contrast stands the strong fighter—one who, regardless of the circumstances, remains anchored in justice and truth.
“Qabsaa’oti jajjaboon, gama biraatiin, yeroo mara haqaa fi dhugaa irratti cichuun injifannoon argame akka daran guddatu falmatu.”
The strong fighter understands that victory is not guaranteed—it must be built, day by day, struggle by struggle, sacrifice by sacrifice. They know that the path to liberation is long and winding, filled with setbacks and sorrows. Yet they press forward, anchored in the conviction that justice and truth will ultimately prevail.
“Dhiibbaa fi miidhaan diinaa hagumuu itti jabaatu, karaa kaleessa ijaarrtanii ittiin xaxaa diinaa keessa darban hin tuqan; hin balaaleffatanis.”
No matter how intense the pressure, no matter how devastating the enemy’s attacks, the strong fighter holds firm. They do not abandon the strategies and structures carefully built over years of struggle. They do not compromise their principles or lose sight of their ultimate goal. They do not allow fear or frustration to erode their resolve.
“Inumaayyuu, jabina ittiin walxaxaa diinaa keessa darban tifkachaa, laafina jiru immoo akka dhalootu ittaanu sirreeffatee fuulduratti milkii caalutti tarkanfatu hojjatu.”
Rather than being consumed by weakness, the strong fighter learns from it. They recognize that the challenges of today are preparing them for the victories of tomorrow. The strengths they develop in overcoming adversity become the foundation upon which future success is built. The weaknesses they identify and correct ensure that the next generation will not repeat the same mistakes.
The Oromo Liberation Struggle: A Case Study in Resilience
The Oromo people have endured over a century of colonial oppression under successive Ethiopian regimes. Their struggle for self-determination has witnessed moments of great triumph and devastating setback. Through it all, the distinction between the strong and the weak fighter has been starkly visible.
The Weak Fighter in Oromo History:
Throughout the Oromo struggle, there have been those who, unable to strike the colonial system effectively, turned their energies toward internal conflict. Factionalism, personal rivalries, and ideological disputes have at times weakened the movement and delayed the realization of Oromo liberation.
Some fighters, frustrated by the seeming impossibility of the struggle, abandoned the cause entirely. Others, unable to achieve their ambitions within the movement, sought to destroy it from within. Still others, consumed by their own grievances, lost sight of the collective dream.
The consequences of such weakness have been profound. Decades of struggle have been prolonged. Generations have been lost to internal division. The enemy has been strengthened by the disunity of the oppressed.
The Strong Fighter in Oromo History:
Yet alongside these cautionary tales stand the heroes of the Oromo struggle—those who, against all odds, maintained their commitment to justice and truth. From the early resistance fighters who faced Menelik’s forces with little more than courage and conviction, to the modern-day revolutionaries who have carried the torch of liberation into the 21st century, the strong fighters of Oromiya have refused to surrender to despair.
These are the fighters who, despite imprisonment, torture, and exile, never abandoned the cause. They who, when the movement was at its weakest, rebuilt it from the ashes. They who, when the enemy seemed invincible, found new ways to resist.
The strong fighters of Oromiya have understood that the struggle is not a sprint but a marathon. They have built institutions, trained cadres, and passed on the legacy of resistance to new generations. They have learned from setbacks and transformed defeats into stepping stones toward victory.
Lessons for All Struggles
The distinction between the strong and the weak fighter holds lessons that extend far beyond the Oromo liberation movement. Every struggle for justice—whether for civil rights, national liberation, or human dignity—faces the same challenges.
Lesson One: The Enemy Is Not Your Comrade
When external pressure mounts, the temptation to turn against one another is strong. But the true enemy is not the comrade who disagrees with you, the leader who makes mistakes, or the organization that disappoints. The true enemy is the system of oppression itself. Directing energy toward internal conflict serves only to strengthen the oppressor.
Lesson Two: Resilience Is Built, Not Given
Strong fighters are not born—they are forged in the fires of struggle. Each setback is an opportunity for learning. Each disappointment is a chance for growth. Each sacrifice strengthens the resolve to continue.
Lesson Three: Victory Belongs to the Persistent
The arc of history bends toward justice—but only because strong fighters continue to bend it. Victory is never guaranteed; it must be won through generations of persistent effort. Those who give up guarantee defeat; those who continue, no matter the obstacles, create the possibility of success.
Lesson Four: Legacy Matters
The weak fighter leaves behind division and despair. The strong fighter leaves behind hope and a foundation for future victory. What legacy will you leave? What will future generations say of your contribution to the struggle?
The Path Forward
As the Oromo liberation movement continues its journey toward self-determination, the choice between strength and weakness remains ever present. The challenges are immense—a powerful state apparatus, a history of division, and the weight of over a century of oppression. Yet the potential for victory has never been greater.
The strong fighter looks at these challenges and sees opportunity. The fractures in the Ethiopian state, the growing international awareness of Oromo issues, the increasing unity of the Oromo people—all point toward the possibility of liberation.
“Jabina ittiin walxaxaa diinaa keessa darban tifkachaa, laafina jiru immoo akka dhalootu ittaanu sirreeffatee fuulduratti milkii caalutti tarkanfatu hojjatu.”
By recognizing and celebrating the strength that has carried the Oromo struggle this far, and by honestly addressing the weaknesses that have held it back, the movement can build toward a future of victory. The strong fighters of today are laying the foundation for the strong fighters of tomorrow.
Conclusion: The Choice Is Ours
The distinction between the strong and the weak fighter is not determined by circumstance but by choice. Every fighter, every activist, every revolutionary faces moments of doubt, fear, and exhaustion. The question is not whether these moments will come, but how we will respond when they do.
Will we turn our frustration inward and destroy ourselves? Or will we draw on the strength of our ancestors, the resilience of our comrades, and the certainty of our cause, and press forward?
The Oromo people have endured much. They have witnessed the destruction of their land, the suppression of their culture, and the denial of their rights. Yet they have not been destroyed. They have not surrendered. They have not given up hope.
“Qabsaa’oti jajjaboon, gama biraatiin, yeroo mara haqaa fi dhugaa irratti cichuun injifannoon argame akka daran guddatu falmatu.”
The strong fighter knows that victory is not simply the absence of defeat—it is the product of persistent, principled, and unwavering struggle. And it is this conviction that will ultimately carry the Oromo people from oppression to freedom, from injustice to justice, from despair to hope.
“Jabina ittiin walxaxaa diinaa keessa darban tifkachaa, laafina jiru immoo akka dhalootu ittaanu sirreeffatee fuulduratti milkii caalutti tarkanfatu hojjatu.”
Let us celebrate the strength with which we navigate the enemy’s complexities, and let us correct our weaknesses so that future generations may march forward to even greater victories.
The struggle continues. The strong fighter endures. And victory, however distant, remains within reach.
The Currency of Truth: Finding Peace in a World of Division
In an era of tribal loyalties and political polarization, one voice reminds us that truth remains unchanged by who speaks it
In a time when every statement is filtered through the lens of political allegiance, when facts are accepted or rejected based on their source, and when loyalty to tribe often trumps loyalty to truth, a quiet but powerful reflection emerges from the heart of Oromo wisdom.
“Dhugaan eenyuun iyyuu haa dubbatamu, eessatti iyyuu haa raawwatamu, dhugaan yeroo hunda dhugaadha.”
Truth—regardless of who speaks it, wherever it is manifested—remains truth forever.
This simple yet profound statement carries a weight that resonates far beyond its words. It challenges us to examine our own relationship with truth in an age of deep divisions and competing narratives.
The Fragility of Peace
The reflection begins with a meditation on peace:
“Sammuun dhugaatti amanuuf waan gaarii yaadu nagaan jiraata! Nagaa sammuu qabaachuun waan hunda caalaa badhaadhina guddaadha.”
A mind that believes in truth and thinks good thoughts lives in peace. Possessing peace of mind is the greatest wealth of all.
This is not mere sentiment—it is a profound psychological insight. When our minds are consumed by suspicion, when we view every statement through the lens of who said it rather than what was said, we forfeit our inner peace. We become prisoners of our own prejudices, forever anxious about the motives of those we oppose and unquestioning of those we support.
“Namni qalbii qulqulluu yoo qabaate, cubbuu irraa bilisa ta’a; kanaafis hirriba nagaa rafa.”
A person with a pure heart is free from sin; therefore, they sleep peacefully.
The Challenge of Our Time
In the current era, truth has become a casualty of tribalism. We have witnessed how political affiliations, ethnic loyalties, and ideological commitments color our perception of reality itself.
The reflection confronts this directly:
“Bara keenya keessatti wantoonni hedduun garee fi ilaalcha siyaasaan madaalamu. Namni nuti jibbinu ykn morminu dhugaa yoo dubbate, dhugaa sana fudhachuuf rakkina qabna.”
In our time, many things are measured by group affiliation and political perspective. If someone we dislike or oppose speaks the truth, we struggle to accept it.
This is one of the most dangerous tendencies of our age. We have become so entrenched in our positions that we cannot recognize truth when it comes from the “wrong” source. We have allowed our enemies to be defined not by their actions but by our opposition to them—and in doing so, we have surrendered our ability to perceive reality clearly.
The reflection continues:
“Yaada yaadaan mari’achuu fi mormuun hafee, gareedhaan wal mormina.”
Arguments and disagreements persist, and we oppose each other by group.
What began as genuine differences of opinion has hardened into tribal warfare. We no longer engage with ideas—we oppose people. We no longer evaluate arguments—we dismiss sources.
The Dangerous Asymmetry
Perhaps most troubling is the asymmetry in how we treat truth depending on its source:
“Dhuguma sana namni nuti deeggaru yoo dubbate garuu, ‘sirriidha’ jennee harka rukunna.”
But when someone we support speaks the same truth, we applaud and say, “That is correct.”
This double standard is the erosion of integrity itself. It means we are no longer evaluating statements based on their truthfulness but based on their alignment with our tribal loyalties. We have become incapable of independent judgment.
The implications are staggering. If truth is determined by who speaks it rather than what is said, then truth itself ceases to exist. We are left with only competing narratives, each claiming legitimacy based on the identity of its speaker rather than the accuracy of its content.
The Call to Integrity
Against this backdrop of tribalism and division, the reflection offers a clear way forward:
“Kanaaf, nama nuti deeggaru ta’e nama nuti morminu haa ta’u, dhugaan dhugaadha; cubbuunis cubbuudha. Kana akkasitti amanuu fi shaakaluu wayya.”
Therefore, whether someone is someone we support or someone we oppose, truth is truth; sin is sin. It is better to believe and practice this.
This is a call to intellectual integrity—to evaluate statements based on their merit rather than their source. It is a challenge to rise above tribal loyalties and embrace a higher standard of truth.
The reward for such commitment is profound:
“Waaqnis dhugaa jaallata; sammuunis nagaa argata.”
God loves truth; and the mind finds peace.
The Wisdom of Oromo Proverbs
The reflection draws on the rich tradition of Oromo wisdom, invoking two powerful proverbs:
“Akka Oromoon jedhu, ‘Nama jibban haqa isaa hin jibban.'”
As the Oromo say, “Do not hate a person’s justice because you hate the person.”
This proverb captures the essence of the argument: justice and truth stand independent of the people who speak them. We are called to separate our judgment of a person from our evaluation of their words.
“Akkasumas, ‘Dhugaan ilmoo Waaqaati.'”
And also, “Truth is the child of God.”
This elevates truth to a sacred status. To reject truth because of its source is to reject something divine. To embrace truth regardless of its origin is to align oneself with the sacred.
The Reward of Integrity
The reflection concludes with a powerful vision of the life lived in pursuit of truth:
“Dhugaa kabajuun nama kabajuudha; dhugaa fudhachuunis nagaa sammuu argamsiisa.”
Honoring truth is honoring oneself; accepting truth brings peace of mind.
This is the final, compelling argument for integrity. It is not merely a moral imperative—it is a practical one. Those who refuse to accept truth because of its source are not punishing the speaker; they are punishing themselves. They are forfeiting the peace that comes from living in alignment with reality.
“Guyyaa nagaa qabu qabaadha, sammuu nagaa yaadu horadhaa.”
May you have a peaceful day; may you cultivate a mind that thinks in peace.
A Message for Our Time
The reflection from Kumala Addunyaa arrives as a timely antidote to the poison of our age. In a world increasingly defined by echo chambers, confirmation bias, and tribal loyalties, it calls us back to something more fundamental: the pursuit of truth itself.
It challenges us to examine our own hearts. Are we willing to accept truth from those we oppose? Are we willing to acknowledge wrongdoing in those we support? Are we courageous enough to judge statements based on their content rather than their source?
The answers to these questions will determine not only the quality of our public discourse but the state of our own inner peace. As long as we remain prisoners of our prejudices, we will never know the peace that comes from living in truth.
The way forward is clear but difficult: we must learn to separate the message from the messenger. We must cultivate the humility to acknowledge truth wherever it appears and the courage to reject falsehood wherever it hides—even among those we love.
The Universal Call
While rooted in Oromo wisdom, the reflection speaks to all of humanity. Every culture, every nation, every community faces the challenge of tribalism and the temptation to reject truth based on its source. The principles articulated here are universal:
- Truth stands independent of its speaker
- Integrity requires us to evaluate statements on their merit
- Inner peace comes from living in alignment with truth
- Honoring truth is ultimately honoring oneself
In a time of deep division, these principles offer a path forward—not through compromise or accommodation, but through a renewed commitment to truth itself.
Conclusion
As the sun sets on another day of conflicting narratives and competing claims, the words of the reflection linger:
“Dhugaan eenyuun iyyuu haa dubbatamu, eessatti iyyuu haa raawwatamu, dhugaan yeroo hunda dhugaadha.”
Truth—regardless of who speaks it, wherever it is manifested—remains truth forever.
This is not merely a philosophical statement; it is a guide for living. Those who embrace this truth will find the peace that comes from integrity. Those who reject it will remain prisoners of their own prejudices.
The choice is ours. And the reward for choosing wisely is nothing less than peace of mind.
“Guyyaa nagaa qabu qabaadha, sammuu nagaa yaadu horadhaa.”
May you have a peaceful day; may you cultivate a mind that thinks in peace.
‘We Are Walking Door to Door’: Anti-Immigrant Vigilantes Escalate Campaign of Intimidation Across South Africa
With tens of thousands repatriated to Zimbabwe and Malawi, a nation confronts the dark tide of xenophobia as weekly marches promise more violence
JOHANNESBURG, July 9 — The morning sun rose over Alexandra township, one of Johannesburg’s most densely populated communities, promising another day of uncertainty and fear. By midday, the streets echoed with the sound of splintering wood and desperate pleas as anti-immigrant vigilantes methodically moved from house to house, breaking down doors and dragging terrified residents into the open.
The scenes playing out across Alexandra, Soweto, and Durban represent a dangerous escalation in South Africa’s ongoing xenophobic crisis—one that has already forced tens of thousands of migrants to flee the country they once called home.
‘I Am a ZEP Holder’
Among those apprehended by the marchers was Total Mhlanga, a Zimbabwean national whose hands trembled as he was escorted toward a police van. “I am a ZEP holder,” he insisted, referring to the Zimbabwean Exemption Permit that legally allows tens of thousands of Zimbabweans to live and work in South Africa. His papers, however, seemed to matter little to those who had seized him.
In Alexandra, a Reuters reporter witnessed protesters breaking into homes where they believed undocumented immigrants were hiding. Among those forcibly removed was a woman clutching a small child—both citizens of Malawi, a country now grappling with the mass return of over 38,000 of its nationals who have fled South Africa in recent weeks.
A Zimbabwean mother of three, who asked not to be named for fear of retaliation, described watching from her window as neighbors were dragged from their homes. “I came here legally. My children were born here. This is the only home they know. Now I must decide whether to stay and risk everything or return to a country I left because there was no future there.”
‘Every Thursday Until Our Demands Are Met’
The movement driving this violence has found an unlikely and increasingly vocal leader: former radio presenter Jacinta Ngobese-Zuma. Her group, known as March and March (also referred to as “March 1 March”), has organized nationwide protests that have transitioned from street demonstrations to what community leaders describe as “door-to-door” operations targeting foreign nationals.
“Protests will take place every Thursday until our demands are met,” Ngobese-Zuma declared on June 30, an informal deadline her movement had set for undocumented immigrants to leave South Africa. The promise has become a terrifying reality for migrants across the country.
Her organization has painted undocumented immigrants as the source of South Africa’s deep-seated economic challenges—unemployment, housing shortages, and strained public services—demanding tighter border controls, mass deportation, and the prioritization of South African citizens in schools and healthcare facilities.
A Community Divided
At the march in Alexandra, community leader Bongani Msomi justified the tactics being employed. “We are walking around doing door to door removing foreigners,” he stated matter-of-factly, as behind him, protesters brandished sticks and flags.
Yet not all South Africans support the movement. In the same township, elderly residents watched with concern, some shaking their heads in silent disapproval. A local teacher, who also asked not to be named, expressed anguish over the situation: “We are destroying what Nelson Mandela built. Ubuntu is dead in these streets. These people are not our enemies—they are our neighbors, our customers, our children’s classmates.”
The Government’s Response—and Its Limits
President Cyril Ramaphosa has repeatedly warned against scapegoating immigrants for the country’s problems. His government has issued clear directives that citizens do not have the right to take immigration enforcement into their own hands.
Police have deployed officers to recent marches for safety and have stepped up arrests of undocumented migrants—yet the line between law enforcement and vigilantism has become dangerously blurred. At the scenes of Thursday’s protests, officers stood by as vigilantes dragged people from their homes. A spokesperson for Johannesburg police was not immediately available to explain the actions of officers at the scene.
Human rights organizations have raised urgent concerns about the complicity—or at minimum, inaction—of law enforcement in facilitating these “removals.” “When police receive citizens who have been unlawfully detained and physically removed from their homes, they are not acting as neutral enforcers of the law,” said a legal observer who requested anonymity. “They are, in effect, legitimizing extrajudicial actions.”
A Regional Humanitarian Crisis
The ripple effects of South Africa’s xenophobic violence are being felt across southern Africa. Malawi’s government confirmed Thursday that over 38,000 of its citizens had returned in recent weeks, part of a massive repatriation effort driven by safety concerns. Neighboring Zimbabwe has seen more than 60,000 of its nationals return—a staggering figure that represents not just a humanitarian crisis but an economic shock to both nations.
These returnees are arriving in countries that already struggle with their own economic challenges. Many had been sending remittances home, supporting extended families and local economies. Their forced return is creating new vulnerabilities while straining already limited resources in their countries of origin.
The Human Cost
Behind the statistics lie countless stories of shattered lives. A Malawian shopkeeper in Soweto watched his business—built over fifteen years—looted and destroyed. A Zimbabwean nurse who had served in a public hospital for a decade now sleeps in a shelter, uncertain if she will ever return to work. An Oromo refugee who fled political persecution in Ethiopia now faces violence in the country where he sought sanctuary.
“The pain is not just physical,” says Dr. Thabo Mbeki (not the former president), a community psychologist who has been providing counseling to affected families. “People are experiencing profound trauma. They have lost everything—their homes, their livelihoods, their sense of safety. Children are refusing to eat. Parents cannot sleep. The psychological wounds will last for generations.”
The Economic Fallacy
Economists have pushed back against the narrative that immigrants are the primary cause of South Africa’s economic woes. Studies have shown that immigrants often create jobs through entrepreneurship, fill critical skills gaps, and contribute to the tax base. The country’s unemployment crisis, they argue, has far deeper roots in systemic inequality, inadequate education, and stagnant economic growth.
“To blame immigrants for unemployment is not just inaccurate—it’s dangerous,” says economist Tendai Moyo. “It diverts attention from the real structural reforms that are needed. It gives people a scapegoat instead of solutions.”
A Nation at a Crossroads
South Africa stands at a defining moment. The post-apartheid constitution—one of the most progressive in the world—enshrines human dignity and equality. Yet the country’s actions are betraying these principles.
As Thursday’s marches conclude and communities brace for what next week may bring, a fundamental question remains: Will South Africa find the political will to protect the most vulnerable among its residents, or will it allow xenophobic violence to become normalized?
The international community is watching. The African Union has expressed concern. Human rights organizations have documented abuses. Diplomats from affected countries have raised the issue with their South African counterparts.
But for the families huddled behind locked doors—the legal permit holders who still fear arrest, the children too frightened to attend school, the business owners who have lost everything—the response so far has been insufficient.
A Plea for Humanity
As evening falls over Alexandra, the sound of broken glass crunches underfoot. Women sweep debris from their doorsteps. Men gather in small groups, their voices low with tension. Children peek through curtained windows, their games silenced.
“In a just world, this would not happen,” reflects one elderly South African woman who has lived in the township for seven decades. “We suffered under apartheid. We know what it is to be treated as less than human. How can we do this to others? How have we forgotten so quickly?”
Her question hangs in the air, unanswered.
The marches will continue, the groups have promised. And as long as they do, the fragile thread of pan-African solidarity—the very ideal that South Africa’s liberation struggle championed—grows thinner with each passing Thursday.
Reporting from Johannesburg, Alexandra township, and Soweto. Additional reporting from Lilongwe and Harare.
African Migrants Across South Africa Sound Alarm Over Escalating Violence, Economic Sabotage, and Systematic Intimidation
The Oromo and broader African diaspora face mounting threats from anti-migrant movements as ‘March 1 March’ and ‘Operation Dudula’ intensify nationwide
SOUTH AFRICA — Beneath the bustling streets of Johannesburg’s inner city, where the rhythms of pan-African commerce once thrived, a palpable fear now settles like an unwelcome fog. Across the nation, from the Cape Flats to the townships of Durban, African migrants who sought refuge and opportunity in the Rainbow Nation are now sounding an urgent alarm—their lives, their livelihoods, and their basic human dignity hang in the balance.
The crisis, while not new, has reached a critical precipice. African migrants, including thousands of Oromo refugees who fled political persecution in Ethiopia and other regions of the Horn of Africa, report being systematically targeted by organized anti-migrant movements. The groups operating under the banners of “March 1 March” and “Operation Dudula” have orchestrated campaigns that victims describe as coordinated efforts to economically cripple and physically intimidate foreign nationals.
‘We Came Seeking Safety’
For many Oromo migrants, the journey to South Africa began as a desperate flight from violence in their homeland. “I left Oromiya with nothing but the clothes on my back,” says Bontu, a mother of three who now runs a small tailoring business in Cape Town. “I came here believing in Ubuntu, the spirit of African unity. Now I lock my door and pray my children return from school alive.”
Bontu’s story is echoed across the country. Migrants who fled political instability, ethnic conflict, and economic collapse have found themselves facing a new nightmare—xenophobic violence that South African authorities have been slow to address.
Documentation of Widespread Violence
Representatives from affected communities have compiled extensive video evidence and firsthand testimonies documenting the severity of the crisis. The footage reveals disturbing scenes of organized brutality:
Economic Warfare and Property Destruction: In coordinated operations that appear strategically planned, businesses owned by African migrants have been systematically looted and destroyed. In Tembisa, Soweto, and other townships, foreign-owned shops have been reduced to smoldering shells. Vehicles have been set ablaze in broad daylight as onlookers record the destruction on their phones.
Organized Mob Violence: Victims describe targeted mass beatings and physical harassment. “They came in groups, armed with pangas and iron bars,” recounts Tadesse, an Oromo shopkeeper in Pretoria. “They didn’t ask for money. They wanted to destroy everything. They told us to ‘go back home.'”
Administrative Blockades and Intimidation: Even routine bureaucratic processes have become battlegrounds. Migrants report being subjected to threats and deliberate delays when attempting to renew residency permits or legal documentation—an essential process for maintaining lawful status in the country.
The Psychological Toll
Perhaps most devastating is the invisible wound—the psychological trauma inflicted upon entire communities. Parents across the nation have stopped sending their children to schools, fearing they may not return. Families remain confined to their homes, living in what victims describe as “continuous high anxiety.”
“My daughter asks why we can’t go to the park anymore,” says Bontu. “How do I explain to a seven-year-old that her skin, her language, her origins make her a target in a country that was supposed to welcome us all?”
Children who once dreamed of becoming doctors and teachers now live with nightmares of masked men breaking down their doors.
Operation Dudula: A Movement Under Scrutiny
Operation Dudula, which translates to “force” or “push back” in isiZulu, has positioned itself as a grassroots movement addressing legitimate concerns about unemployment and housing shortages in South African communities. However, critics argue the movement has crossed into dangerous territory by targeting vulnerable migrant populations rather than advocating for systemic solutions to the country’s deep-seated socioeconomic challenges.
March 1 March, another anti-migrant initiative, has similarly been linked to escalating tensions and violence against foreign nationals.
Both groups have denied accusations of xenophobia, maintaining they are addressing the strain that undocumented migration places on local resources. Yet the victims’ testimonies paint a different picture—one of organized intimidation targeting law-abiding residents who have contributed to their communities for years or even decades.
A Call to Action
Spokespersons from affected communities are distributing their documented evidence to international media outlets, civil society organizations, and human rights watchdogs. Their plea is clear: the South African government, law enforcement agencies, and the international community must act immediately to:
- Protect Vulnerable Populations: Deploy law enforcement to prevent further attacks and ensure perpetrators face consequences
- Uphold the Rule of Law: Ensure all residents, regardless of nationality, have equal access to legal protections and administrative services
- Address the Root Causes: Develop comprehensive strategies to address unemployment and service delivery challenges without scapegoating foreign nationals
- Promote Social Cohesion: Invest in community dialogue and education programs that counter xenophobic narratives
The Broader Context
South Africa has a complex history with migration. As the continent’s most industrialized economy, it has long attracted workers and entrepreneurs from across Africa. Yet recurring waves of xenophobic violence—in 2008, 2015, 2019, and now ongoing—have tarnished the nation’s reputation and contradicted its constitutional commitment to human dignity.
The Oromo diaspora, numbering in the thousands, represents a particularly vulnerable population. Having fled political persecution and ethnic conflict, many lack the robust social networks that might offer protection. They arrived with skills, determination, and hope—qualities that have enriched South African communities when given the opportunity.
An African Tragedy
As the sun sets over the continent, the irony is not lost on those caught in this crisis. African refugees who fled conflict zones, seeking safety within their own continent, now face violence from the very communities they sought to join.
“The dream of a united Africa feels very far away,” reflects Tadesse. “But I still believe. We must not let the actions of some destroy the vision of all. Our children deserve to inherit a continent of solidarity, not suspicion.”
The international community and African Union have mechanisms to address such crises—protocols on the protection of refugees, conventions on human rights, frameworks for continental solidarity. What remains to be seen is whether these instruments will translate into meaningful action before more lives are destroyed.
The Way Forward
South African civil society organizations have called for urgent dialogue between migrant communities, government representatives, and local leaders. Some municipalities have begun establishing community forums to address tensions constructively.
Human rights lawyers are preparing legal challenges against the most egregious violations, while grassroots peacebuilding initiatives work to rebuild trust between South African residents and their migrant neighbors.
Yet time is of the essence. The violence continues, the fear deepens, and the economic damage mounts. For every day that passes without meaningful intervention, more families are displaced, more livelihoods destroyed, and more children grow up in a world where “foreigner” has become synonymous with “target.”
A Shared Humanity
As one Oromo elder noted during a community meeting in Johannesburg, “We have forgotten that we are all African. The borders that divide us were drawn by colonial powers who wished to keep us fighting each other. Our strength lies in remembering our shared humanity.”
The crisis facing African migrants in South Africa is not merely a matter of domestic policy—it is a test of the continent’s commitment to the principles of pan-African unity and solidarity. How South Africa responds to this moment will send a message far beyond its borders.
In the meantime, families continue to lock their doors, children remain home from school, and communities pray for a dawn that brings not fear, but hope.
THE GENERATION OF THE BOOK: How the Keepers of Knowledge Forged a Living Purpose for Their Nation
They did not pick up arms alone; they picked up pens, manuscripts, and the dusty archives of memory—and in doing so, they gave their people a future worth fighting for.
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By Our Staff Writer
There is a generation that walks among us—unassuming, often overlooked, yet carrying the weight of centuries upon their shoulders. They are not soldiers in the conventional sense. They do not stand on barricades with rifles. Their weapons are older, sharper, and far more enduring: books, scrolls, oral epics, and the sacred duty of remembrance.
This is the generation that read the book of knowledge not for personal glory, not for academic titles, but for their nation and their country. They understood that a people who forget their past are a people condemned to wander in the darkness of others’ narratives. So they opened their eyes, their ears, and their hearts to the whispers of their ancestors, and they transcribed those whispers into a living, breathing blueprint for the future.
They have set a Living Purpose—a compass not carved in stone, but etched into the very soul of the Oromo nation.
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The Archive of Silence No More
For decades, the history of Oromia was a forbidden text. Colonial anthropologists wrote of the Oromo as a “stateless” people, a footnote to Ethiopian imperial narratives. State-sponsored textbooks erased the Gadaa system, reducing a 500-year-old democracy to a “primitive” custom. The language itself was relegated to the shadows, its beautiful rhythms and proverbs deemed too dangerous for the public sphere.
Then came the generation of the book.
They began in secret—under the flickering light of kerosene lamps, in the basements of diaspora homes, in the prayerful silence of elders’ huts. They transcribed oral histories that had survived the swords of conquerors. They translated ancient poems and legal codes. They documented the names of heroes whose graves had been deliberately unmarked. They studied the sciences of agriculture, linguistics, law, and political theory, not as abstract disciplines, but as tools for liberation.
This was not merely academic curiosity. It was archaeology of the soul. Every recovered manuscript, every restored lineage, every corrected historical distortion was a brick laid in the foundation of a nation that had been told it had no foundation at all.
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The Book as the Blueprint
But this generation did not stop at remembrance. They were forward-looking—future-casting visionaries who understood that the past, no matter how glorious, is only the starting line.
They read, yes. But they also interpreted. They asked: What does the Gadaa system teach us about governance today? How can the Oromo philosophy of Nagaa (peace) inform conflict resolution in a fractured region? What economic models are sustainable for the pastoralists of the Borana and the farmers of Arsi? How can the Oromo diaspora, scattered across the globe, remain connected to the homeland without losing their hard-won international solidarity?
The generation of the book synthesized these questions into a Living Purpose—a dynamic, evolving vision that adapts to changing circumstances while remaining rooted in eternal values. They did not propose a rigid ideology, but a method: a way of being Oromo that is simultaneously ancient and modern, particular and universal, rooted and reaching.
This purpose is not a document gathering dust on a shelf. It is a living will, passed from elder to youth, from rural village to urban university, from the highlands to the diaspora. It grows, it breathes, it argues with itself—and in that self-critique, it becomes stronger.
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The Pedagogy of the Rising Sun
How do you teach a nation to read its own future?
The generation of the book understood that literacy is not merely the ability to decode letters; it is the capacity to decode power. They established schools where none existed—underground classrooms beneath the shade of the Odaa tree, where children learned their mother tongue while the state listened for whispers of sedition. They published pamphlets, newsletters, and eventually, fully-fledged books that laid bare the mechanisms of their oppression and the pathways to their emancipation.
They also taught critical reading. They encouraged their students to question, to cross-reference, to recognize bias in official narratives. They did not want obedient subjects; they wanted sovereign minds—citizens capable of discerning truth from propaganda, justice from ritualized injustice.
In this way, the book became a liberation pedagogy. Every page read, every footnote examined, every historical contradiction exposed, was an act of resistance more potent than any weapon. Because an army can be defeated; a regime can fall; but a generation that knows how to think? That is a force no tyranny can suppress.
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The Living Purpose in Action
Today, we see the fruits of that labor.
In the global forums of human rights advocacy, Oromo intellectuals cite their own traditions of democratic governance to challenge international observers. In the digital corridors of social media, a new generation of Oromo writers, poets, and meme-makers use their ancestors’ wit to dismantle contemporary prejudice. In the universities of the diaspora, students majoring in Oromo studies reclaim a heritage that was once “impractical” and “irrelevant” to Western academia.
The Living Purpose is materialized in the Oromo flag—that trinity of black, red, and white—which is not just a piece of cloth, but a summary of the book they read: black for the land, red for the sacrifice, white for the dawn to come. It is manifested in the Irreechaa festival, where thousands gather to give thanks, not as a ritualistic relic, but as a vibrant, contemporary expression of ecological spirituality.
And it is embodied in the quiet dignity of an Oromo mother who, despite the threat of arrest, teaches her child to say, “Ani Oromoo”—I am Oromo—with the same natural, unbreakable pride with which she breathes.
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The Unfinished Chapter
Yet, the book is not complete. This generation knows that their task is not finished. The Living Purpose is not a destination; it is an open road.
There are still histories to recover, languages to revive, and systems to redesign. There are still young minds, especially in rural communities, who lack access to the very books that could set them free. There are still regimes that burn libraries and persecute poets, believing that if they destroy the words, they destroy the nation.
But they have already lost. Because the generation of the book has ensured that the words live within the people. No fire can burn a book that has been committed to memory. No censorship can silence a story that is carried on the tongue and passed through the blood.
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A Final Leaf
As the sun descends over the Oromo homeland, casting its long shadows across the Rift Valley, one can almost hear the turning of pages—the rustle of a billion hopes, inscribed not in ink, but in action.
The generation that read for their nation has set a purpose that will outlive them. They have planted a forest of knowledge, and though they may not sit in its final shade, they have ensured that their children, and their children’s children, will.
They read the book. They understood the mission. And they passed it on—not as a relic, but as a flame.
The pages turn. The purpose lives. And the nation, at last, begins to write its own destiny.
The Personal Cost: What Participation Really Means in the Oromo Struggle
By Daandii Ragabaa
Participation in the Oromo struggle is not a badge of honor to be worn lightly. It carries real costs: the risk of imprisonment, the loss of employment, the strain on family relationships, the psychological toll of witnessing injustice and state violence. To enter this path without understanding these burdens is not bravery—it is recklessness.
For many young Oromos, the call to action feels almost magnetic. It pulses through social media feeds, echoes in university lecture halls, and reverberates in the whispers of elders who remember previous struggles. The desire for bilisummaa—freedom—burns bright, and rightfully so. But brightness can blind, and passion untempered by preparation can lead to devastation.
The Weight of Knowledge
The informed participant calculates these costs soberly. They do not romanticize martyrdom but prepare for the possibility of sacrifice. This is a critical distinction: one can be willing to sacrifice without seeking suffering. The romanticized image of the revolutionary—defiant, fearless, untouchable—is a dangerous fiction that has shattered too many young lives.
Consider the family left behind when a participant is detained. The mother who cannot sleep. The children who grow up without a parent’s presence. The spouse who must navigate a sudden single-income household. These are not abstractions; they are the daily realities of thousands of Oromo families across Ethiopia and the diaspora.
Building the Foundation
The wise participant builds support networks before they are needed. They identify trusted friends who can act as emergency contacts. They establish communication protocols. They ensure their family understands—to the extent possible—the risks involved. They plan for the psychological and material consequences of their involvement.
This planning is not cowardice. It is the opposite. It is the recognition that the struggle is a marathon, not a sprint. That sustainability matters. That burning out in the first mile serves no one.
Mental health preparation is particularly crucial. Witnessing state violence—whether in person or through graphic videos shared online—leaves scars. The constant hypervigilance, the grief for fallen comrades, the anger that simmers just beneath the surface—these accumulate. Participants who ignore their psychological well-being often find themselves unable to continue when their community needs them most.
The Material Realities
Loss of employment is not a theoretical risk. In Ethiopia, known activists have been dismissed from government positions, blacklisted from private sector jobs, and denied educational opportunities. In the diaspora, there are subtler forms of economic retaliation: lost contracts, strained business relationships, sudden “restructuring” at workplaces.
Financial planning, therefore, becomes an act of resistance. Saving emergency funds. Maintaining skills that remain marketable regardless of political climate. Diversifying income sources. These are not signs of divided loyalty but of strategic thinking.
A Call to Maturity
This is not a counsel of fear but of maturity. The struggle is too important to be undertaken by those who have not counted the cost. Freedom is not won through impulse but through sustained, strategic, and sober effort.
The Oromo people have endured too much to have their liberation squandered by recklessness. Every arrest, every career lost, every family torn apart—these are not abstract statistics. They are the flesh and blood of the movement. To treat them carelessly is to dishonor their sacrifice.
So before you post that video, before you attend that protest, before you speak those words that cannot be unsaid—pause. Count the cost. Build your support. Prepare your mind. Strengthen your body. And then, with clear eyes and a full heart, decide.
Because the most powerful participants in any struggle are not the ones who act without thinking—they are the ones who think deeply, prepare thoroughly, and then act with unwavering commitment.
That is what participation really means.
If you or someone you know is struggling with the psychological toll of involvement in political activism, please reach out to trusted community supports or mental health professionals. Your wellbeing matters—to your family, your community, and the struggle itself.
Advocacy for Oromia 