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Echoes of the Struggle: A Historic Reunion in the Heart of Oromia

There are moments in the life of a nation that transcend politics and policy, touching the very soul of a people’s journey. Today, in the bustling heart of Finfinnee, we witness one such moment. It is a scene heavy with history, a living tapestry woven from threads of sacrifice, exile, and the unyielding dream of self-determination.

Before us stand two elders, not merely as men, but as monuments. Mr. Lenco Lata and Mr. Hassan Ali. Their handshake is more than a greeting; it is the meeting of two rivers that carved the landscape of the modern Oromo struggle. To look at them is to look into the past and see the foundations of the present.

Mr. Lenco Lata, a veteran of the ABO struggle, carries the weight of the armed resistance on his shoulders. His story is one written in the shadows, in the trenches of conviction, where the fight for Oromia was not a political slogan but a daily, dangerous reality. He belongs to a generation that believed the cause was worth their very breath.

Beside him stands Mr. Hassan Ali, a figure of foundational governance. As the first president of the Oromia Regional State, he was tasked with the monumental challenge of translating decades of resistance into the framework of administration. He stood at the vanguard of a new, hopeful, and uncertain chapter, attempting to give structural form to the very cause for which Mr. Lata and his comrades fought.

Though their paths diverged—one in the trenches of guerrilla warfare, the other in the halls of nascent governance—their fates were tragically united. For their unwavering dedication to the Oromo cause, both were branded as threats. Both were forced to drink from the bitter cup of exile, expelled from the very land they dreamed of liberating and building. They became custodors of the Oromo dream from distant shores, watching, waiting, and hoping for the day they could walk the soil of Oromia as free men.

That day is today.

Their meeting in Finfinnee is not a simple reunion of old colleagues. It is a historic memory being made tangible. It is the closing of a painful loop and the affirmation that their sacrifices were not in vain. The city that once felt the absence of their voices now bears witness to their presence.

As they sit together, the ghosts of fallen comrades, the pain of years in exile, and the joy of return all linger in the air. They represent a bridge between the Oromia that was fought for in the wilderness and the Oromia that continues to be built today. In seeing them together, we are reminded that the journey is long, the price has been high, but the spirit—the indomitable spirit of Oromia—remains unbroken. This is more than a photograph; it is a page of history, written in resilience, sealed with sacrifice, and now, finally, framed in the dignity of homecoming.

The Paradox of Protection: How ‘National Interest’ and ‘Media Ethics’ Became Tools to Suppress Independent Journalism

February 27, 2026 – When governments move to shut down independent media outlets, the justifications often sound reasonable, even noble. “National security,” we are told, requires certain information to remain undisclosed. “Social harmony” demands that divisive voices be quieted. “Media ethics” must be enforced against those who would spread misinformation. “National interest” trumps individual rights.

These phrases roll easily off official tongues. They appear in legislation, in court rulings, in press statements announcing closures or arrests. They are designed to reassure: this is not about silencing dissent; this is about protecting something greater.

But across the globe, from Ethiopia to Egypt, from Hungary to the Philippines, these same phrases have been deployed in ways that systematically undermine the very institutions democracy requires. What emerges is a paradox: the language of protection becomes the instrument of suppression, and the promised safeguards for society become mechanisms for entrenching power.

The Language of Legitimacy

The terms “national interest” and “media ethics” carry genuine weight. Nations do have legitimate security concerns that may require some information to be protected. Journalists do have ethical obligations to verify information, correct errors, and avoid causing harm.

But these concepts are also inherently flexible—and that flexibility makes them dangerous tools in the hands of those who would control information.

“National interest” has no fixed definition. It can mean protecting troops in wartime. It can also mean hiding corruption, embarrassing diplomatic cables, or evidence that development funds have been stolen. The same phrase covers both legitimate secrecy and illegitimate cover-up.

“Media ethics” similarly spans a vast territory. It can mean refusing to publish unverified allegations. It can also mean refusing to publish anything critical of those in power. When the government becomes the arbiter of journalistic ethics, ethics quickly become whatever the government wants them to be.

“The problem is not the concepts themselves,” explains media law scholar Dr. Tsegaye Berhanu. “The problem is who gets to define them. When the state is both the subject of journalistic scrutiny and the judge of whether that scrutiny is ‘ethical,’ you have created a system where accountability becomes impossible.”

The Ethiopian Context: A Case Study in Linguistic Capture

Ethiopia’s recent history illustrates how the language of protection can be repurposed for suppression. Since the onset of conflict in various regions, authorities have increasingly invoked national security concerns to justify restrictions on reporting.

In Oromia, where conflict between government forces and the Oromo Liberation Army continues, independent access is severely limited. Journalists attempting to report on human rights abuses or humanitarian conditions face accusations of undermining national unity or supporting terrorist groups.

The 2020 state of emergency legislation granted broad powers to restrict “any information that could disturb the public peace” or “incite violence.” While these goals are legitimate, the definitions are expansive enough to encompass almost any critical reporting.

“The government has effectively made itself the sole judge of what constitutes responsible journalism,” says a veteran Ethiopian journalist who requested anonymity. “If you report government abuses, you’re ‘inciting violence.’ If you report opposition abuses, you’re ‘supporting terrorists.’ There is no space left for simply reporting facts.”

The result, human rights organizations warn, is that Ethiopia’s media space has contracted dramatically. Outlets have been shuttered. Journalists have fled into exile or ceased reporting on sensitive topics. The information vacuum is filled by rumor and diaspora-based outlets operating beyond any regulatory framework.

The Slippery Slope: From Regulation to Suppression

The journey from legitimate media regulation to systematic suppression rarely happens overnight. It follows a predictable pattern:

Step One: Establish the Framework – A government passes laws allowing action against media that threatens national security or violates ethical standards. These laws often appear reasonable and may even be drafted with input from media professionals.

Step Two: Expand the Definitions – Gradually, the interpretation of key terms expands. “National security” comes to include economic reports that might deter investment. “Incitement” comes to include criticism of government policy. “Ethical violations” come to include failure to present the government’s perspective.

Step Three: Selectively Enforce – The laws are applied primarily to opposition or critical media, while government-friendly outlets enjoy immunity. This creates the appearance of even-handed regulation while effectively silencing dissent.

Step Four: Create Self-Censorship – Journalists, observing what happens to colleagues who cross invisible lines, begin censoring themselves. The government need not close every outlet; it need only demonstrate that crossing certain boundaries carries consequences.

“Self-censorship is the most efficient form of suppression,” notes media ethics researcher Hanna Mekonnen. “It requires no ongoing enforcement, no public relations pushback. Journalists simply internalize the boundaries and police themselves. The government gets exactly what it wants—a compliant press—without having to do anything.”

The Ethics Paradox: Who Guards the Guardians?

Perhaps the most insidious aspect of using “media ethics” as a suppression tool is that it reverses the proper relationship between press and power.

In democratic theory, the press serves as a watchdog on power—the “fourth estate” that holds government accountable. Media ethics are professional standards that journalists voluntarily adopt to ensure they perform this function responsibly. Ethics are supposed to guide journalists in serving the public interest, not to serve as a leash held by those in power.

When government becomes the enforcer of media ethics, this relationship is inverted. The watchdog is muzzled in the name of responsible behavior. Those who should be scrutinized become the scrutineers.

“Imagine if corporations were allowed to define what constitutes fair business reporting,” says Tadesse Desta, a media lawyer. “Or if politicians could decide what counts as unbiased political coverage. That’s exactly what happens when government enforces ‘media ethics’—the subjects of journalism become the judges of journalism.”

The National Interest Fallacy: Short-Term Silence, Long-Term Danger

The invocation of “national interest” to justify media suppression rests on a fundamental fallacy: that hiding problems makes them go away.

In reality, suppressing information about national challenges does not protect national interest—it undermines it. A nation that does not know about corruption cannot address it. A government that does not hear about policy failures cannot correct them. A society that cannot discuss its divisions cannot heal them.

“When you silence reporting on ethnic tensions, you don’t eliminate those tensions,” says conflict resolution specialist Worku Aberra. “You just ensure that no one sees them building until they explode. The ‘national interest’ argument gets it exactly backwards: transparency is in the national interest. Secrecy serves only those who benefit from the status quo.”

This dynamic plays out repeatedly in conflict settings. In Ethiopia’s Oromia region, restricted reporting means that early warning signs of violence go undetected. Humanitarian needs remain invisible. Opportunities for intervention are missed. The “national interest” justification for media restrictions becomes self-defeating as conflict deepens and spreads.

The International Dimension: Learning from Others

Ethiopia is far from alone in facing these dynamics. Across Africa and beyond, governments have refined the art of using protective language to justify suppressive action.

In Tanzania, the 2016 Media Services Act expanded government power to sanction journalists for “undermining public confidence” in state institutions—a phrase capacious enough to cover almost any criticism. In Uganda, repeated internet shutdowns during elections are justified as necessary for national security, though critics note they primarily serve to block opposition organizing.

In Hungary, media legislation framed as promoting “professional standards” has resulted in a media landscape heavily tilted toward government-friendly outlets. In the Philippines, the closure of ABS-CBN, the nation’s largest media network, was justified on technical licensing grounds but widely seen as retaliation for critical coverage.

Each case has unique features, but the pattern is consistent: language that sounds protective is deployed to achieve suppressive ends.

The Way Forward: Reclaiming the Concepts

If the language of “national interest” and “media ethics” has been captured by those who would suppress independent journalism, what is to be done? The answer is not to abandon these concepts—they remain important—but to reclaim them.

For national interest: The concept must be narrowly defined and subject to independent oversight. Secrecy should be the exception, not the rule, and decisions about what constitutes a genuine national security threat should not rest exclusively with those who might benefit from concealment.

For media ethics: Professional standards should be developed and enforced by journalists themselves, through independent press councils and voluntary associations. When governments involve themselves in ethical enforcement, the conflict of interest is simply too great.

For the public: Media literacy and support for independent journalism are essential. A public that understands the value of a free press is less likely to accept its suppression in the name of security or ethics.

Conclusion: The Light That Protects

There is a reason authoritarian regimes always move against independent media first. There is a reason democratic transitions always prioritize press freedom. Journalism is not merely one institution among many—it is the institution that makes all others accountable.

When independent media is suppressed in the name of national interest, the nation’s interests are not protected. They are betrayed. When independent media is suppressed in the name of media ethics, ethics are not served. They are subverted.

The only genuine protection for national interest and media ethics is a free press that can speak truth to power, expose wrongdoing, and facilitate the public debate on which democracy depends. Any framework that suppresses independent journalism in the name of protecting these values has misunderstood them entirely—or never intended to protect them at all.

As the Ethiopian journalist who fled into exile observed: “They tell you they are closing the newspapers to protect the country. But a country that cannot hear itself think is a country that cannot save itself. The silence they create is not peace. It is just the quiet before the next storm.”

When the Press Goes Silent: How Shutting Down Independent Media Fuels the “Secret Voice” Debate

February 26, 2026 – When authorities shut down independent media outlets, block websites, or jail critical journalists, they often cite noble justifications: preserving national unity, preventing misinformation, or maintaining public order. But evidence from countries across the political spectrum suggests that muzzling the press does not eliminate dissent—it simply drives it underground, where it transforms into something far less accountable and often more volatile: the “secret voice” debate.

This phenomenon—the migration of political discourse from public forums to private, unregulated spaces—is reshaping how information spreads in societies where media freedom is constrained. And it carries profound implications for governance, social cohesion, and conflict prevention.

The Hydra Effect: Silencing One Voice Creates Many

When independent media is shut down, the logic appears simple: remove the platform, remove the problem. But communication theorists compare this approach to the Hydra of Greek mythology—cut off one head, and multiple grow in its place.

“Suppressing official media outlets doesn’t suppress the human desire to discuss, question, and organize,” explains Dr. Meseret Taye, a political communication researcher based in Addis Ababa. “It simply pushes those discussions into spaces that authorities cannot monitor or moderate. You lose the ability to even know what people are thinking, let alone address their concerns.”

This “secret voice” debate takes many forms:

Encrypted messaging apps become the new public square. In countries with restricted media, platforms like Telegram, Signal, and WhatsApp have become primary channels for news dissemination and political organization. These spaces are largely invisible to regulators and impossible to moderate consistently.

Word-of-mouth networks revive ancient patterns of information sharing. In Ethiopia’s Oromia region, where media access is restricted and conflict continues, residents report relying on trusted personal networks for information about security conditions, movement restrictions, and political developments.

Diaspora-based media fills the vacuum. Outlets operating from Europe, North America, or neighboring countries broadcast back into their homelands, often with perspectives sharply critical of authorities—and with limited accountability for accuracy.

Art and culture become coded political expression. Music, poetry, and theater in local languages increasingly carry layered meanings accessible to local audiences but difficult for censors to police.

The Accountability Deficit

Perhaps the most significant consequence of driving debate underground is the complete loss of accountability for what is said.

Professional journalism, despite its flaws, operates within ethical frameworks. Journalists are trained to verify sources, seek multiple perspectives, and correct errors. Media outlets have legal identities that can be held responsible for defamation or incitement.

The “secret voice” debate has none of these safeguards.

“When debate goes underground, rumor becomes indistinguishable from fact,” says Tadesse Desta, a media lawyer who has represented journalists in several African countries. “Anyone with a smartphone can broadcast anything—accurate reporting, deliberate disinformation, or incitement to violence—with zero accountability. The public has no way to verify what they’re hearing, and authorities have no way to address legitimate grievances because they can’t even see them clearly.”

This dynamic creates a perfect storm for conflict escalation. Without reliable information, populations become susceptible to conspiracy theories. Without public platforms for grievance articulation, frustrations accumulate without resolution. Without professional journalism to fact-check claims, misinformation spreads unchecked through private channels.

Ethiopia’s Hidden Information War

Ethiopia offers a contemporary case study in how restricted media environments fuel secret debates. In Oromia, where ongoing conflict between government forces and the Oromo Liberation Army has claimed countless civilian lives, independent reporting is severely constrained. International journalists face access restrictions, and local journalists operate under constant threat.

The result, according to residents and researchers, is an information vacuum filled by competing narratives flowing through unofficial channels.

“We have no reliable way to know what is happening even in neighboring districts,” says an Oromia resident who requested anonymity for security reasons. “Information comes through phone calls from relatives, messages from friends, occasional posts on social media that may or may not be true. Everyone is guessing, and fear spreads faster than facts.”

Human rights organizations warn that this information blackout obscures the scale of violations. Getu Saketa Roro, co-founder of the Human Rights League of the Horn of Africa, notes that “the human rights situation—as well as the overall humanitarian crisis in Oromia—is underreported.”

What reporting does emerge often comes from diaspora-based outlets or international organizations with limited on-the-ground access, creating further information gaps and contested narratives.

The Technology Dimension

Digital technology has fundamentally altered the dynamics of information control. Twenty years ago, shutting down newspapers and radio stations could effectively silence national debate. Today, ubiquitous smartphones and cheap mobile data mean that information—and misinformation—flows through channels no government can fully control.

Governments have attempted various responses: shutting down internet access entirely during political crises, blocking specific apps, monitoring social media, prosecuting online speakers. But these measures are blunt instruments that often backfire.

“When you try to block digital communication entirely, you harm every aspect of society—business, education, health care, family connections,” notes technology policy researcher Hanna Gebreselassie. “And you still don’t stop the information flow. People find ways around blocks. They use VPNs. They share via closed groups. They pass messages through trusted contacts. The debate continues, just beyond your view.”

The economic costs are substantial as well. The Internet Society estimates that internet shutdowns cost countries billions in lost economic activity, damaged investment climate, and reduced innovation.

From Secret Debate to Public Action

The most dangerous aspect of the “secret voice” debate is its potential to suddenly erupt into public action—often catching authorities completely by surprise.

History offers numerous examples. The Arab Spring uprisings were organized largely through social media and private channels after years of restricted public discourse. The 2019 Sudanese revolution that ousted Omar al-Bashir built momentum through informal networks when formal opposition was impossible. In Ethiopia itself, the 2015-2018 Oromo protests that reshaped national politics spread through songs, social media, and word-of-mouth after traditional organizing channels were blocked.

“When debate is forced underground, you lose all the early warning signs that might allow intervention before crisis,” says conflict resolution specialist Worku Aberra. “Professional journalists report on emerging tensions; they interview people, document grievances, provide an outlet for frustration. Without that, you have no idea how angry people are until they’re in the streets. And by then, it’s usually too late for dialogue.”

The Illusion of Control

For authorities considering media restrictions, the appeal is understandable: a quieter public sphere feels more stable, more controllable. But this stability is an illusion—a calm surface hiding turbulent depths.

The secret voice debate continues regardless of press restrictions. It simply operates beyond the reach of accountability, beyond the view of policymakers, beyond the influence of those who might address legitimate grievances before they explode.

When independent media is shut down, authorities don’t eliminate criticism. They eliminate their ability to hear it, understand it, and respond to it constructively. They trade noisy democracy for silent danger—and history suggests this is no trade at all.

As one veteran journalist put it: “You can silence the microphone, but you cannot silence the conversation. It just moves to places you cannot hear—until suddenly it’s too loud to ignore.”

February 26, 2026 (Addis Ababa) – In a significant gathering of Oromo intellectuals and civic leaders, a five-day conference convened under the symbolic call “Harmeen Oromiyaa waamti” (“Mother Oromia summons you”) has concluded with urgent appeals for political accountability and truth-based dialogue to address the region’s deepening challenges.

The meeting brought together scholars and thought leaders for intensive deliberations on the political crisis affecting Oromia and its implications for Ethiopia as a whole. Participants engaged in what they described as “in-depth, truth-based discussions” regarding Oromo political challenges, outlining potential solutions they believe would benefit the broader population.

Kedir Bullo, one of the participants, reflected on the gathering’s significance in an interview following the conference. “When the call went out that ‘Mother Oromia summons you,’ this is how we responded,” Bullo said. “We convened to hold in-depth, truth-based discussions regarding Oromo political challenges, and we outlined solutions that would benefit our people.”

However, Bullo expressed uncertainty about whether the recommendations would translate into meaningful action. “I do not know what the politicians have done [with these recommendations],” he stated, highlighting a recurring gap between intellectual deliberation and political implementation that has frustrated many civic initiatives in the country.

The scholar emphasized the personal significance of participation. “Personally, I feel a sense of honor to have fulfilled my civic duty by spending five days with these scholars, discussing matters concerning both our people and the country with a deep sense of solidarity,” Bullo said.

Context of Crisis

The gathering occurs against a backdrop of escalating warnings about Ethiopia’s trajectory. Just days before the conference, the Oromo Liberation Front (OLF) issued a stark statement warning that “gathering clouds of war” continue to hang over Ethiopia, with persistent conflict in Oromia and other regions remaining a major source of security, social, and economic challenges .

According to the OLF statement, political differences remain unresolved, and longstanding conflicts have turned Oromia into what it described as a “recurring arena of war and exploitation” despite the region’s natural wealth, while many residents continue to face economic hardship .

The urgency of these warnings was amplified by a coalition of twenty international and regional human rights and humanitarian organizations, which warned on February 20 that Ethiopia stands “on the brink” of renewed large-scale conflict. The groups cited ongoing fighting between federal forces and the Oromo Liberation Army (OLA), with reports of extrajudicial killings, mass arrests, property destruction, forced conscription, and collective punishment of civilians .

The Human Cost of Insecurity

The conflict’s toll on ordinary citizens has been devastating. A recent investigation by the Associated Press documented widespread abuses in Oromia, where civilians find themselves caught between government forces and armed opposition groups .

Ayantu Bulcha, speaking to AP from Addis Ababa, described how soldiers came to her family’s home in Oromia in early December. Her cousin was shot outside the property, she said, and soldiers took her father and uncle to a nearby field where they were also killed. They had been accused of fighting alongside the OLA—allegations she denies .

Lensa Hordofa, a civil servant from Oromia’s Shewa region, told AP her family faces constant harassment and extortion from armed men, including demands for food and supplies. Her uncle was recently detained and released only after payment of a ransom equivalent to $650. “Movement from place to place has become increasingly restricted,” she said. “It’s almost impossible to travel” .

Media Access Restricted

The conflict has remained largely hidden from public view due to restricted access. Ethiopia limits access to Oromia for journalists and rights groups, meaning the full scope of the humanitarian crisis remains underreported .

Getu Saketa Roro, co-founder of the Human Rights League of the Horn of Africa, noted that “the human rights situation—as well as the overall humanitarian crisis in Oromia—is underreported” .

This information blackout echoes warnings from human rights organizations that shrinking civic space and restrictions on independent reporting are obscuring the scale of violations and weakening early warning and prevention efforts .

Failed Peace Efforts

The call for dialogue from the scholars’ conference comes amid recent failures in formal peace negotiations. The Ethiopian government announced on February 18 that talks with the Oromo Liberation Army had ended without agreement. It was the second time Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed’s government and the OLA had sat down this year aiming to end a five-year insurgency in the restive Oromia region .

National security adviser Redwan Hussein posted on social media: “Due to the intransigence of the other party the talks have come to an end without an agreement. The obstructive approach and unrealistic demands of the other party are the principal reasons why these talks could not succeed” .

The OLA offered a different perspective, stating it had tried “to negotiate a space for a meaningful change in the governance of the Oromia region” during the talks in Dar es Salaam. Spokesman Odaa Tarbii said in a statement: “True to form, the Ethiopian government was only interested in co-optation of the leadership of the OLA rather than beginning to address the fundamental problems that underlie the county’s seemingly insurmountable security and political challenges” .

Economic Paradox

The conflict’s persistence stands in stark contrast to Oromia’s economic potential. The region is central to Ethiopia’s coffee industry, which continues to post strong results nationally. Official data shows Ethiopia earned 1.6 billion dollars from coffee exports in the first five months of the 2025/26 fiscal year, with plans to generate more than 3 billion dollars by exporting about 600,000 tons of coffee during the full year .

Major coffee-producing areas include Jimma, Illubabor, Guji, West Wollega and East Wollega in Oromia—many of which have been affected by insecurity. In Bale Zone, where coffee is grown on more than 68,000 hectares, officials report harvests reaching 93 percent of targets despite challenges .

Yet the benefits of this economic activity have not translated into stability or widespread prosperity. The OLF statement emphasized that despite the region’s natural wealth, many residents continue to face economic hardship .

The Scholar’s Appeal

Against this complex backdrop, the gathering of scholars under the “Mother Oromia” banner represents what participants view as a civic intervention—an attempt to inject intellectual rigor and truth-based analysis into a political environment often characterized by polarization and mutual recrimination.

Bullo’s personal reflection on fulfilling his “civic duty” speaks to a broader sense of responsibility among Oromo intellectuals who see themselves as bridges between grassroots concerns and political decision-makers. The five days of discussion, grounded in what participants describe as commitment to truth and solidarity, produced what they believe are viable solutions.

Whether these solutions will reach political actors—and whether those actors will act upon them—remains an open question. As Bullo noted with evident frustration: “I do not know what the politicians have done [with these recommendations].”

The conference’s conclusion coincides with growing international alarm about Ethiopia’s trajectory. The February 20 letter from human rights organizations warned that “space for de-escalation is rapidly shrinking” and called for sustained international attention, inclusive political solutions, and expanded independent human rights monitoring .

For the scholars who gathered under Mother Oromia’s summons, the path forward requires bridging the gap between intellectual deliberation and political action—ensuring that truth-based analysis does not remain confined to conference halls but translates into the inclusive dialogue and accountability that Ethiopia’s complex crisis demands.

Bromangymnasiet hosts celebration highlighting the importance of preserving and strengthening mother tongues, especially for communities whose linguistic rights have been denied

BRO, Sweden — Students and educators at Bromangymnasiet, a secondary school in Sweden, joined the global community in celebrating International Mother Language Day on February 21, recognizing the vital importance of linguistic diversity and the right to learn, write, and speak in one’s mother tongue .

The day, proclaimed by UNESCO in 1999 and observed annually on February 21, holds particular significance for communities whose languages have been marginalized, suppressed, or denied official recognition. For Oromo students at Bromangymnasiet and across the diaspora, the celebration represents both a affirmation of identity and a reminder of ongoing struggles for linguistic rights .

What Is Mother Language?

Mother language—the language a child first learns from their mother and father at birth, the language of their earliest thoughts and expressions—carries profound significance beyond mere communication. It is the medium through which identity is formed, culture is transmitted, and history is preserved .

For communities whose right to use their mother tongue has been violated—who have been denied education in their language, prohibited from publishing in it, or shamed for speaking it—Mother Language Day carries additional weight. It is both celebration and commemoration: celebration of linguistic diversity, commemoration of struggles to preserve languages against overwhelming pressure .

Language Expresses Identity, Culture, and History

As the students at Bromangymnasiet emphasized during their celebration, language is far more than a tool for communication. It is the vessel that carries a people’s identity, their culture, and their history across generations .

When a language dies, something irreplaceable is lost—not just words and grammar, but ways of seeing the world, relationships with nature, forms of humor, styles of prayer, patterns of storytelling, and connections to ancestors. Each language encodes unique knowledge and perspectives that cannot be fully translated into any other tongue .

For Oromo students celebrating in Sweden, this understanding is particularly acute. Many were born in or have grown up in diaspora, navigating between the Oromo language of their homes and communities and the Swedish language of their education and broader society. Maintaining Oromo language proficiency requires conscious effort, community support, and institutional recognition—none of which can be taken for granted.

The Global Context: Languages Under Threat

International Mother Language Day emerges from recognition of a global crisis in linguistic diversity. According to UNESCO estimates:

• More than 40% of the world’s 7,000 languages are currently at risk of disappearing
• A language dies approximately every two weeks
• 40% of the global population lacks access to education in a language they speak or understand
• Indigenous languages are disappearing at alarming rates, taking with them unique knowledge systems and cultural heritage

February 21 was chosen as International Mother Language Day to commemorate the 1952 Bengali Language Movement in Bangladesh, when students in Dhaka were killed by police while demonstrating for recognition of their mother tongue, Bengali. The day thus carries from its origins a connection to struggle—to the understanding that linguistic rights are not given but demanded, and that people have died defending their right to speak their own languages.

Oromo Language: A History of Suppression and Resilience

For Oromo people, the struggle for linguistic rights has been central to the broader struggle for recognition and self-determination. Under successive Ethiopian regimes, the use of Afaan Oromo was severely restricted:

• Education in Afaan Oromo was prohibited for decades
• Publishing in the language was suppressed
• Public use of Afaan Oromo was discouraged and sometimes punished
• Oromo children were educated in Amharic, a language many did not understand
• The Latin script (Qubee) for writing Afaan Oromo was banned, with the Ethiopic script imposed

Despite these pressures, Oromo language survived and has undergone remarkable revitalization since the 1991 change of government. The adoption of Qubee (Latin script) has facilitated writing and publishing. Afaan Oromo is now used in education, media, and government in Oromia. Oromo literature, music, and journalism have flourished.

Yet challenges remain. Within Ethiopia, the status and development of Afaan Oromo continues to be contested. In diaspora, parents struggle to pass the language to children growing up in English, Swedish, or other dominant languages. The work of strengthening Oromo language is ongoing.

Strengthen Our Language and Our Script!

The celebration at Bromangymnasiet carried a clear and powerful message: “Strengthen our language and our script! May Afaan Oromo grow!”

This call encompasses several dimensions:

For Oromo youth in diaspora: It means actively using Afaan Oromo at home, seeking out Oromo-language media, participating in community events where Oromo is spoken, and taking pride in linguistic heritage.

For parents and families: It means speaking Oromo to children from birth, creating environments where Oromo is valued and used, and transmitting not just language but the culture and history it carries.

For communities: It means establishing and supporting Oromo language programs, creating opportunities for youth to use the language, and celebrating linguistic achievements.

For educators and institutions: It means recognizing Oromo language as worthy of study and support, providing resources for Oromo language learning, and respecting students’ linguistic identities.

For advocates: It means continuing to press for full recognition and development of Afaan Oromo in Ethiopia and supporting Oromo language initiatives globally.

Celebration at Bromangymnasiet

The International Mother Language Day celebration at Bromangymnasiet brought together Oromo students and educators to honor their language and reflect on its significance. Activities likely included:

• Readings of Oromo poetry and literature
• Performances of Oromo music
• Discussions about the history and importance of Afaan Oromo
• Presentations on Oromo culture and traditions
• Reflections on the challenges and joys of maintaining Oromo language in diaspora

For students growing up between cultures, such celebrations serve multiple purposes: they affirm that Oromo language matters, that their heritage is worthy of recognition, and that they are part of a global Oromo community that spans continents.

The Universal Message

While the Bromangymnasiet celebration focused particularly on Afaan Oromo, the universal message of International Mother Language Day resonates across all linguistic communities:

• Every language deserves respect and recognition
• Every child deserves education in a language they understand
• Linguistic diversity enriches humanity
• Languages carry knowledge and perspectives that benefit everyone
• The loss of any language diminishes us all

As one student participant reflected: “When we celebrate Mother Language Day, we celebrate not just our own language but the principle that all languages matter. We stand with every community fighting to preserve its mother tongue—whether in Ethiopia, Sweden, or anywhere in the world.”

Looking Forward

The celebration at Bromangymnasiet represents both an ending and a beginning: the end of another year’s observation, and the beginning of renewed commitment to strengthening Afaan Oromo for the year ahead.

For Oromo students in Sweden, the work continues—learning, speaking, reading, and writing in their mother tongue; passing it to younger siblings and future children; advocating for its recognition and support; and ensuring that Afaan Oromo not only survives but thrives in diaspora as well as in the homeland.

As the students themselves declared: “Afaan keenya fi Qubee keenya jabeessaa! Afaan Oromoo haa guddatu!” —”Strengthen our language and our script! May Afaan Oromo grow!”

International Mother Language Day: February 21—celebrating linguistic diversity, honoring struggles for linguistic rights, and committing to strengthen every mother tongue.