Category Archives: Face of Injustice
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.
‘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.
The Oromo People of the UK Establish a Lasting Legacy: The Haacaaluu Hundeessaa Foundation
By Maatii Sabaa
In the heart of the United Kingdom, far from the highlands of Oromia, a profound act of remembrance is taking shape. The Oromo community in England, in collaboration with the global Oromo diaspora, has initiated a project that transforms grief into action and memory into a living legacy: the Haacaaluu Hundeessaa Foundation.
Six years after the iconic artist and activist was assassinated in Addis Ababa, his voice refuses to fade. In the UK, members of the diaspora have taken upon themselves the sacred duty of ensuring that his sacrifice was not in vain, carrying forward his mission of cultural preservation, justice, and empowerment.
A Voice Silenced, A Movement Strengthened
Haacaaluu Hundeessaa was more than a musician. His 2015 single Maalan Jira (What Existence Is Mine) became the rallying anthem of the Oromo protests that fundamentally altered Ethiopia’s political landscape . His lyrics captured the pain of displacement, the humiliation of marginalization, and the unyielding pride of a people refusing to disappear .
Born in 1986 in Ambo, Haacaaluu’s path to becoming a cultural icon was forged in hardship. At just 17 years old, he was arrested for his political activities and imprisoned for five years without charge. It was in that incarceration that he shaped his identity and composed most of the songs that would define his career .
His assassination on June 29, 2020, sent shockwaves through the Oromo nation and Ethiopia as a whole, described by one commentator as “a spear through the heart of the Oromo nation” . The grief was so intense it triggered major protests that led to the loss of hundreds of lives. Yet from this tragedy emerged a renewed commitment to Haacaaluu’s vision.
Building the Foundation
The Haacaaluu Hundeessaa Foundation in the UK represents a concrete effort to honor the artist’s legacy through structured, sustainable action. This initiative builds upon similar efforts already underway in Ethiopia—most notably at Jimma University, which established a foundation in his name in 2020 .
Jimma University’s President, Dr. Jemal Abafita, articulated the vision when the foundation was first announced: “Haacaaluu is physically gone from us, but his works remain with us, and his legacy must grow stronger. As an institution of higher learning, we must emerge from this deep grief by remembering his name, making his sacrifice meaningful, and ensuring he occupies a great place in history” .
The UK-based foundation extends this mission to the diaspora, recognizing that the preservation of Oromo culture and the pursuit of justice require both local and international effort.
More Than Remembrance
The Oromo community in the UK has long been active in cultural preservation. Registered charities like the Oromo Community in Brighton & Hove work year-round to provide education in the Oromo language, history, and culture for children, ensuring that the next generation maintains its connection to its heritage .
The Haacaaluu Foundation amplifies these efforts. Its scope—as envisioned by its Ethiopian counterpart—embraces national and international partnership, with a focus on incubating youth talent and sustainably supporting educational initiatives. For the diaspora community, this means creating pathways for young Oromos in the UK to learn their language, understand their history, and engage with the struggle for justice in a meaningful way.
The Digital Bridge
One of the most powerful aspects of Haacaaluu’s legacy preservation has been the digitalization and global distribution of his music. A collaborative effort led by his childhood friend Olii Taammiraat, an ICT expert, ensured that Haacaaluu’s songs were made available on over 150 music platforms worldwide, including iTunes, Amazon Music, Apple Music, and Spotify .
This achievement was remarkable: for seven consecutive days, Haacaaluu’s music topped international charts—a first for any Ethiopian artist . As Olii explained to the BBC, “Haacaaluu was not just a musician; he was the voice of the people. His songs carry history, our wounds, and our hopes. When we lost him, it felt like that voice was stolen from us. We could not let that happen” .
The foundation builds on this work, ensuring that Haacaaluu’s music continues to reach new audiences and inspire new generations.
A Call to the Diaspora
For the Oromo diaspora in the UK, the establishment of the Haacaaluu Hundeessaa Foundation represents a call to action. As community elders in diaspora commemorations have declared, “Haacaaluu gave us a mandate. His blood and his art demand a response from the Oromo people. We must respond to his sacrifice by vigorously demanding our inalienable rights” .
The foundation provides a structured vehicle for that response—a way to channel grief into action, memory into mission, and cultural pride into political advocacy. The Oromo community in the UK, like their counterparts in New Zealand, Nairobi, and across the world, are proving that while the man may be gone, the movement he inspired is more alive than ever .
Conclusion
The Haacaaluu Hundeessaa Foundation, as envisioned by the Oromo people of England and their partners, is a testament to the enduring power of art and the unbreakable spirit of a people. It is not merely a monument to a fallen hero but a living institution dedicated to the values he embodied: cultural pride, justice, and the relentless pursuit of freedom.
As Haacaaluu’s widow powerfully stated at his funeral, “Haacaaluu is not dead. He will remain in my heart and the hearts of millions of Oromo people forever” . In the United Kingdom, that promise is being kept—not through words alone, but through the concrete, sustainable work of a foundation built in his name.
The struggle continues. And with it, Haacaaluu’s voice—carried by the Oromo people of the UK and the global diaspora—refuses to be silenced.
For more information about the Haacaaluu Hundeessaa Foundation and ways to support its work, contact the Oromo Community in Brighton & Hove at 42 Manor Way, Brighton, BN2 5EF.
INVESTIGATIVE REPORT: SYSTEMATIC PERSECUTION OF OROMO PEOPLE IN ETHIOPIA
By an Investigative Reporter in Finfinne
Executive Summary
This report documents systematic human rights violations against Oromo people across Ethiopia’s Oromia region, based on extensive testimonies, government reports, and international documentation. The evidence reveals a pattern of state-sponsored persecution targeting Oromo individuals based on their ethnic identity and perceived political affiliations, creating conditions that meet international definitions of persecution under refugee and asylum law.
The Scale of the Crisis
In Oromia, harm and brutality targeting Oromo children based on their identity and political perceptions are widespread and escalating. Oromo children living in areas where the Oromo Liberation Army (OLA) operates—including Western Oromia, Wellegga, Shambu, West Shewa, North Shewa, Karrayyoo, Guji, Arsi, and Eastern Oromia—face multifaceted forms of persecution.
The Ethiopian Human Rights Commission (EHRC), in its 2025 annual report covering June 2024 to June 2025, documented extensive violations of fundamental rights across Oromia, including extrajudicial killings, abductions, physical harm, and widespread destruction of property. Both government forces and the OLA have been implicated in these abuses.
Testimony: The Reality of Persecution
A young man from the Shambu area, who requested anonymity due to fear for his safety, described his ordeal to this reporter. While traveling from Shambu to Finfinne (Addis Ababa), he was stopped by security forces who demanded he present his identity documents.
“When they saw my ID showing Shambu, they arrested me. During detention, I endured severe beatings and torture. They accused me of coming to Finfinne to join the insurgency, despite my insistence that as an Oromo, I had no connection to armed groups. After two months of detention, they released me with a warning. Since then, I have been unable to freely move or speak about my origins. My family continues to be harassed by militia demanding to know my whereabouts and threatening to involve the WBO [an armed group].”
This account mirrors the experience of Mr. W, another Oromo asylum seeker who was arrested in June 2020 following protests after the killing of Oromo singer and civil rights activist Hachalu Hundessa. Soldiers interrogated him about being Oromo and accused him of being part of the Oromo Liberation Army (OLA) or Oromo Liberation Front (OLF)—groups he had never been involved with. He was jailed for three months, and after his release, soldiers monitored and chased him. In January 2021, he was jailed again for a month on similar accusations, with police interrogating and beating him daily. In 2023, the government jailed his parents and threatened to kill them unless he returned. His parents told him to flee.
The Koree Nageenyaa: A Secret Network of Persecution
A Reuters investigation uncovered the operations of the Koree Nageenyaa—or Security Committee—a clandestine group of senior officials in Oromia that has ordered extra-judicial killings and illegal detentions as part of efforts to crush the insurgency. Human rights sources indicate that this committee specifically targets young Oromo with modern hairstyles or appearances that allegedly signal opposition sympathies. Female Oromo face particular vulnerability to sexual violence by security forces. Young people have also reported being asked for bribes by security forces; those unable to pay face immediate detention.
Official Documentation of Systematic Abuses
The EHRC 2025 Report
The Ethiopian Human Rights Commission’s 2025 annual report documented:
- Extrajudicial killings across multiple zones in Oromia
- Abductions and arbitrary detentions
- Physical harm and torture
- Widespread destruction of property
- Both government forces and the OLA implicated in abuses
United Nations Documentation
The UN Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs (UNOCHA) reported that conflict-related displacement persists in Oromia, with nearly 220,000 people displaced along the Oromia-Somali border. In July 2025, renewed inter-communal violence erupted along the Oromia–Somali border, displacing over 288,000 people.
Humanitarian Assessment
UNOCHA’s assessment found that in Oromia Region alone, an estimated 151,972 people are displaced across multiple districts. Displaced families are sheltering in makeshift shelters made of plastic sheets, clothing, and sticks, offering little protection from the elements. Women, children, the elderly, and persons with disabilities face heightened vulnerabilities, including fear of retaliation, gender-based violence, and psychological trauma.
Legal Framework for Persecution Claims
Under international law, as defined by the 1951 Refugee Convention and its 1967 Protocol, persecution is defined as the act of harassing or oppressing a person or a group of people, especially because of their identity. Persecution includes unfair or abusive treatment toward a person or group based on race, religion, ethnicity, political opinion, or membership in a particular social group.
For an asylum claim, the following elements must be meticulously documented:
- Dates and locations of incidents
- Types of abuse suffered
- Names of perpetrators (if known)
- Medical records documenting injuries
- Witness statements
- Evidence of state involvement or failure to protect
Past persecution and fear of future persecution by government actors on account of political opinion and race form the core of the case.
Critical Findings for Asylum Assessment
Political Opinion
Many Oromo asylum seekers are targeted not because of what they have done, but because of what they are perceived to believe. Simply being Oromo can be enough to attract suspicion. Political engagement—whether real or imagined—significantly increases the risk.
The European Union Agency for Asylum (EUAA) has documented cases where Oromo individuals faced persecution due to their political opinions. Even Oromo individuals who have never been involved with opposition groups can be targeted. Mr. W was arrested and beaten despite having no connection to the OLA or OLF. His only “crime” was being Oromo and being present at a protest.
Place of Origin and Residence
European courts have recognized that “the risk of persecution due to affiliation with OLA applied throughout Oromia, even in areas where there is no active armed conflict.” This is a critical point: an Oromo person cannot simply move to a “safer” part of Oromia and escape persecution. The threat follows them.
Risk of Persecution upon Return
For many Oromo asylum seekers, return to Ethiopia would expose them to:
- Continued targeting by security forces
- Inter-communal violence in their home areas
- The risk of being forcibly conscripted or accused of supporting armed groups
- The inability to relocate safely within Oromia
The Human Rights Situation: A Critical Assessment
The human rights situation in Oromia is described as “critical.” The Ethiopian government has intensified its crackdown on independent media and civil society ahead of elections slated for 2026. Security forces have arbitrarily detained healthcare workers, and humanitarian needs remain acute. The government restricts access to Oromia for journalists and rights groups, meaning much of the conflict and its human toll remains hidden from the world.
“Unfortunately, the human rights situation—as well as the overall humanitarian crisis in Oromia—is underreported,” said Getu Saketa Roro, co-founder of the Human Rights League of the Horn of Africa.
The Oromo Liberation Army (OLA) has called for independent investigations into what it describes as “systematic terror, state-orchestrated brutality, and entrenched impunity.”
Conclusion
The documentation and testimony gathered in this investigation establish a consistent pattern of persecution against Oromo people in Ethiopia based on their ethnic identity and perceived political opinions. This persecution is perpetrated by state actors, including security forces and the clandestine Koree Nageenyaa, and has created a situation where Oromo individuals face well-founded fear of persecution throughout the Oromia region.
The legal and humanitarian frameworks, including the 1951 Refugee Convention, the Ethiopian Human Rights Commission’s findings, and documentation by United Nations agencies, support the conclusion that Oromo asylum seekers from Ethiopia have legitimate claims based on a well-founded fear of persecution on account of their race, ethnicity, and political opinion.
This report is based on on-the-ground investigation, interviews with survivors, analysis of official government and UN reports, and review of international legal frameworks. Some names have been withheld to protect individuals who remain in danger.
The Many Faces of Freedom: Understanding the Oromo Struggle for Self-Determination
By Our Special Correspondent
The question echoes across generations, continents, and political divides: How does one become an Oromo freedom fighter?
The answer, like the struggle itself, is complex. It defies the simplistic caricatures often peddled by those who would reduce the Oromo quest to a single narrative of violence. The reality is far richer—and far more demanding.
To become an Oromo freedom fighter is to commit oneself to a cause that transcends any single organization, any single leader, or any single moment in history. It is to join a continuum of resistance that stretches from the 19th-century resistance to Abyssinian expansion to the Oromo popular uprisings of 2014-2017, and into the present-day struggle for recognition, justice, and self-determination.
This commitment can take many forms. Some choose the path of political advocacy and grassroots organizing. Others dedicate themselves to academic and cultural scholarship, reclaiming a history long suppressed. Still others—driven by circumstances and conviction—take up arms in the forests and mountains of Oromia.
Each path carries its own risks, its own rewards, and its own profound responsibilities.
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The Path of Political Advocacy: Building Power Through Participation
For many, the struggle begins not with a weapon but with a ballot, a placard, or a community meeting. Political advocacy and grassroots organizing represent the most accessible—and often the most sustainable—forms of participation.
Joining Political Parties
Ethiopia’s constitutional framework, for all its imperfections, provides space for political organization. The Oromo Liberation Front (OLF) , once a rebel movement, is now a legally registered political party operating within the country’s electoral process. Alongside it, the Oromo Federalist Congress (OFC) —formed in 2012 through the merger of the Oromo Federalist Democratic Movement and the Oromo People’s Congress—advocates for Oromo rights within the federal system.
These parties, along with others, have issued joint statements calling for the unconditional opening of political space and the cessation of conflict ahead of national elections. For those who believe in change through established channels, joining and supporting such parties offers a legitimate, if often frustrating, avenue for political expression.
Civic Engagement and Community Organizing
Beyond party politics lies a vast landscape of civic organizations. In the diaspora, Oromo community organizations have emerged as powerful platforms for advocacy, education, and cultural preservation. Groups like Advocacy for Oromia (A4O) , founded in 2014, work to improve the settlement process and advance the wellbeing of the Australian-Oromo community. The Oromo Legacy Leadership and Advocacy Association (OLLAA) connects and organizes Oromos around a common cause—creating positive change in Ethiopia and the world through advocacy, education, and community organizing.
These organizations organize peaceful protests, fundraising campaigns, and global awareness initiatives. They amplify voices that might otherwise go unheard, documenting human rights violations and advocating for international attention. In the words of one such organization, they work to “promote universal human values by supporting, advocating, and amplifying the voices of the human rights violation victims”.
The path of political advocacy is not without its perils. The OLF has accused the government of deliberately closing the political arena and obstructing the lawful activities of opposition parties. Political activists face arrest, harassment, and worse. Yet for many, the risk is worth taking. As one activist put it, “Silence is not an option when your people are suffering.”
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The Path of Scholarship: The Weapon of Knowledge
There is an Oromo proverb: “Namni waan hin beekne hin dhaabatu” —One who does not know does not stand firm. This principle lies at the heart of the academic and cultural path to freedom.
Oromo Studies: Reclaiming a Suppressed History
For generations, Oromo history was written by others—often by those who sought to justify conquest and marginalization. The Oromo were treated as “historical objects,” their agency erased, their contributions ignored. The Ethiopian knowledge elites, as scholars have noted, “treated the Oromo as historical objects or have ignored them because of their subordination and powerlessness”.
The emergence of Oromo Studies as an academic discipline represents a profound act of liberation. It is, as one scholar has written, an attempt to “replace colonial history by a history of liberation”. The Oromo Studies Association (OSA) , founded in the last quarter of the 20th century, publishes the Journal of Oromo Studies (JOS) , a premier peer-reviewed publication for interdisciplinary scholarship on the Oromo. Now fully open-access, the journal publishes articles, research notes, and scholarly book reviews in both English and Afaan Oromoo.
The OSA plays a vital role in “making the world community aware of Oromo aspirations and grievances”. For intellectuals and students, contributing to this body of knowledge is a form of resistance—a refusal to accept the erasure of Oromo history and identity.
Combating Historical Marginalization
Academic scholarship is not confined to university libraries. It extends to the broader project of combating historical marginalization through education, cultural preservation, and public awareness. Organizations like the Mecha and Tulaama Association —founded in 1963 not as a militant front but as “a critical socio-cultural and intellectual awakening”—provided an organized platform at a time when “the very fabric of Oromo identity was under systemic pressure”.
Today, this tradition continues through cultural festivals like Irreecha, language preservation efforts, and the promotion of the Gadaa system—an indigenous democratic governance framework recognized by UNESCO as an Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity.
To become a freedom fighter through scholarship is to understand that liberation begins in the mind. It is to recognize that a people who know their history cannot be easily conquered, and that knowledge, once planted, grows into something no army can destroy.
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The Path of Armed Resistance: The Oromo Liberation Army
For some, the path to freedom leads not to a lecture hall or a political party office, but to the forests and mountains of Oromia. This is the path of the Oromo Liberation Army (OLA) —the armed wing of the struggle that has been engaged in a prolonged conflict with the Ethiopian government.
Who Joins and Why
The OLA’s ranks have historically included farmers, students, and intellectuals who joined the movement to achieve self-determination. They come from diverse backgrounds but share a common conviction: that peaceful avenues for change have been exhausted, and that armed resistance is the only remaining option.
The OLA operates out of remote forest outposts across Oromia, a region with a population of roughly 40 million people. Its commander, Jaal Marroo (also known as Kumsa Diriba), is a wanted man who moves constantly to stay ahead of government drones hunting him from the skies. The group has taken several towns in western, central, and southern Oromia, at times facing little resistance from government forces.
A Complex Legal and Political Status
The OLA’s relationship with the OLF is complex. The OLA split from the OLF after a 2018 peace agreement between the OLF and the Ethiopian government. While the OLF is a legally registered political party operating within Ethiopia’s political system, the OLA is proscribed by the government as a “terrorist organization”.
The OLA says it is fighting for the self-determination of Ethiopia’s largest ethnic group, the Oromo. It has welcomed international human rights reports and called for impartial, internationally mandated investigations into alleged atrocities. Yet the conflict has taken a devastating toll on civilians. The International Committee of the Red Cross has highlighted the “devastating” impact of the Oromia conflict on civilian populations, and both government forces and the OLA have been accused of human rights violations.
The Risks and Realities
The path of armed resistance carries extraordinary risks. Fighters face death, injury, and imprisonment. They live in constant danger, moving through remote territories, evading government forces and surveillance. Their families face harassment and persecution.
Yet for those who choose this path, the risks are outweighed by conviction. As one fighter reportedly said, “We did not choose this life. It was chosen for us by a government that left us no other option.”
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The Common Thread: A Shared Commitment
Despite the differences between these paths—political advocacy, academic scholarship, and armed resistance—they share a common thread: a commitment to the fundamental principles of the Oromo struggle.
These principles are not merely separatist or nationalist. They are transformative, aiming to reshape, support, and sustain a more just and inclusive Ethiopia. They include:
· Oromia as the territorial homeland and foundation of Oromo identity.
· Afaan Oromo as the linguistic unifier and symbol of dignity.
· Gadaa as the indigenous democratic blueprint for governance.
· Oromummaa as the cultural conscience of the people.
· Finfinnee as the symbolic capital and national crucible.
· Diree Dawa as the multicultural frontier demanding inclusive governance.
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Conclusion: Choosing Your Path
Becoming an Oromo freedom fighter is not a single act but a lifelong commitment. It requires historical literacy, strategic clarity, ethical grounding, and profound personal readiness. It demands that one count the cost—whether that cost is imprisonment, exile, or death—and choose nonetheless.
The path one takes depends on circumstance, conviction, and opportunity. Some will march in peaceful protests. Others will write scholarly articles or teach Oromo history. Still others will take up arms in the forests of Oromia.
Each path is valid. Each path is necessary. And each path, in its own way, contributes to the larger struggle for justice, recognition, and self-determination.
As an Oromo elder once said: “The struggle is not about what we take from others; it is about what we build for ourselves and our children. It is about reclaiming our dignity and offering it as a gift to the nation we share.”
The question is not whether to become a freedom fighter. The question is: Which path will you choose?
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“Namni waan hin beekne hin dhaabatu” — One who does not know does not stand firm.
The Unbreakable Spirit: The Role of Oromo Women in the Liberation Struggle
By Our Special Correspondent
History often remembers the faces of revolutionaries as male—the generals, the politicians, the spokesmen. Yet, in the Oromo liberation struggle, this narrative is not merely incomplete; it is a profound erasure. For decades, Oromo women have been the backbone of the movement, serving not only as its supporters but as its leaders, its strategists, its fighters, and its soul.
Their contributions span the political, the military, the cultural, and the social. They have organized protests, taken up arms, preserved a threatened culture, and sustained communities through the darkest hours of conflict. And they have done so while facing a double oppression—as members of a marginalized ethnic group and as women in a patriarchal society.
This is their story—a story of courage, resilience, and an unyielding commitment to freedom.
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The Historical Foundation: Resistance Rooted in Tradition
The role of Oromo women in resistance is not a modern phenomenon. It is deeply rooted in the traditional structures of Oromo society. Within the Gadaa system—the indigenous democratic governance framework that has guided the Oromo for centuries—women exercised influence through institutions like the Siiqqee, a women’s assembly that ensured gender balance and protected women’s rights.
During the 19th-century colonization of Oromia by Abyssinian forces, Oromo women actively resisted displacement, land confiscation, and cultural erasure. Their resistance was both direct and indirect, often taking the form of cultural preservation—passing down language, traditions, and memory to subsequent generations. This cultural defiance laid the groundwork for the political and armed struggles that would follow.
The Siinqee Tradition: A Philosophy of Resistance
Central to understanding the role of Oromo women is the Siinqee—a traditional Oromo women’s institution that symbolizes unity, resistance, and empowerment. It is more than a cultural artifact; it is a lived practice of mutual protection among Oromo women, a covenant of resistance against all forms of oppression.
Scholar Martha Kuwee Kumsa has developed this into a formal framework known as Siinqee Feminism—an Oromo philosophy of womanhood and solidarity that predates Western feminist thought. It offers a unique lens through which to understand how Oromo women mobilize to foster solidarity and challenge oppressive systems. The Siinqee is not merely an academic concept; it is a living tradition that continues to empower women in the struggle for liberation.
Political Leadership: Organizing and Advocating
Oromo women have been active in political movements for decades, serving as leaders, organizers, and advocates within organizations such as the Oromo Liberation Front (OLF) and other nationalist groups. They have organized protests, participated in negotiations, and represented the Oromo cause on national and international platforms.
The Qeerroo movement—the youth-led protests that shook Ethiopia from 2014 onward—saw women at the forefront. One female leader from Sebeta, known as “Chali,” recalled: “People who did not understand how the 2015 Oromo protest was organized tend to give credit to the diaspora. We were the ones”. These protests, which began in response to the Addis Ababa Master Plan, evolved into a broader movement against systemic marginalization. Women were not merely participants; they were architects of the resistance.
The Armed Struggle: Taking Up Arms
Perhaps the most striking testament to the commitment of Oromo women is their participation in the armed struggle. Many have joined the Oromo Liberation Army (OLA) , the armed wing of the OLF, taking up arms to defend their people and land.
For some, joining the armed group was described as “a refuge from a state that persecuted Oromo womanhood and identity”. A former OLA fighter reflected on her decision to move from political organizing to the bush: “I felt most welcomed in my Oromoness when I took the erbuu [oath] with bullets and our flag in the bush… At least in that moment, I was safe in my belonging”. Another former mobilizer explained: “I knew I was born into a social justice struggle; I’ve never had an identity or childhood separate from this oppression. My development, at a basic level, was formed around Oromoness”.
Beyond combat, women have provided critical logistical support to the armed struggle—supplying food, shelter, and medical care to fighters, and acting as messengers and intelligence gatherers, often at great personal risk.
The Diaspora: A Global Struggle
The Oromo women’s struggle is not confined to the borders of Ethiopia. In September 2020, Oromo women marched through the streets of Berlin, Germany, demanding recognition for their struggle. This protest march, called a Hiriira in the Oromo language, was a powerful statement of solidarity and resistance, linking the struggles of Oromia to global movements against oppression.
Cities across Germany have been sites of prolific organizing and resistance against the Ethiopian state, as seen in archival documents from the 1970s declaring “Freiheit für Oromiya”. Many of these activists are now elders in the Oromo community, still fighting for liberation today.
Guardians of Culture: Preserving Identity
In times of displacement and cultural erasure, Oromo women have been the guardians of their people’s identity. They have preserved and promoted Oromo language, traditions, and cultural practices. Through ceremonies like Irreechaa (Oromo Thanksgiving) and the passing down of oral traditions, they have kept Oromo identity alive across generations.
This cultural preservation is not a passive act; it is a form of resistance. By maintaining their language and traditions in the face of assimilationist policies, Oromo women have ensured that the struggle for freedom has a cultural foundation to build upon.
The Weight They Carry: Challenges and Sacrifice
The contributions of Oromo women have come at an immense cost. They face what scholars describe as “double oppression”—marginalization as Oromo people and as women. They have endured violence, displacement, and loss, yet they remain steadfast in their commitment to the struggle.
In the armed conflict, women have been particularly vulnerable to sexual violence and exploitation. Within their own communities, their voices are sometimes marginalized in political and social spaces. Despite these challenges, they continue to push for gender equality within the liberation movement itself, challenging patriarchal norms and advocating for women’s representation in leadership roles.
The Unfinished Struggle: A Vision for the Future
The struggle for Oromo liberation is far from over, and the role of women within it continues to evolve. As one analysis notes, “Oromo women have fought not only for national liberation but also for gender equality”. The movement’s true liberation will not be complete until the voices of women are fully included in leadership and decision-making.
As Martha Kuwee Kumsa’s work reminds us, we must “draw inspirations from the lived experiences of Oromo women and how they mobilise Siinqee feminist practices to foster solidarity”. Their resilience, courage, and vision offer a blueprint not only for the Oromo struggle but for movements for justice everywhere.
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The story of the Oromo liberation struggle cannot be told without honoring the women who have sustained it, led it, and sacrificed for it. They are the fighters, the organizers, the mothers, the scholars, and the guardians of a people’s soul.
They have shouldered the weight of history and refused to break. Their unbreakable spirit is the heartbeat of the Oromo struggle—and a reminder that true freedom is never won without the full participation of women.
“Namni waan hin beekne hin dhaabatu” — One who does not know does not stand firm. And the women of Oromia know—they know their history, their worth, and their power.
Two and a Half Centuries of Freedom: Oromo Americans Celebrate America’s 250th Independence Day
From the shores of Lake Minnetonka to the bustling streets of Minneapolis, Oromo Americans across Minnesota have marked the Fourth of July with profound gratitude—celebrating not just a nation’s birthday, but the freedoms they have found in their adopted homeland.
A Celebration of Freedom, Democracy, and Resilience
The spirit of the Fourth of July was unmistakable across Minnesota’s Oromo community. Families gathered for barbecues, community picnics, and cultural celebrations—but beneath the festivities lay a deeper resonance. For Oromo Americans, Independence Day is more than a national holiday. It is a testament to the values they have embraced and the opportunities they have secured.
“We had a wonderful holiday, and we have captured the true spirit of the holiday: freedom, democracy, and resilience.”
This sentiment echoes across the community. For many Oromo Americans, the Fourth of July carries profound meaning—not just as a celebration of American independence, but as a reflection on the liberties they now enjoy compared to the struggles their families endured in Oromia.
The Weight of Gratitude: Freedom Found and Valued
For those who have fled political repression, persecution, and conflict, the freedoms of the United States are not abstract concepts. They are lived realities—the ability to speak one’s mind without fear, to worship freely, to pursue education and opportunity, and to participate in the democratic process.
“Freedom and democracy are indeed precious gifts, and it’s incredibly moving to hear how much we appreciate the liberties we’ve found here in the United States of America, compared to what our family or ancestors experienced back home in Oromia.”
These words capture the immigrant experience at its most profound: the recognition that freedom is not guaranteed, that democracy is fragile, and that the rights enjoyed in the United States are the result of centuries of struggle, sacrifice, and commitment.
Honoring Sacrifice: Those Who Made It Possible
Independence Day is also a time to honour those who have fought to protect the values of freedom and democracy—both in America and in the homelands left behind.
“The sacrifices made by the military and generations of leaders to protect those values are exactly what today is all about.”
For Oromo Americans, this recognition is twofold. It honours the American soldiers and leaders who have defended liberty across two and a half centuries. It also honours the Oromo freedom fighters, activists, and community leaders who have struggled for justice and self-determination in their homeland—often at great personal cost.
250 Years of Democracy: A Milestone Worth Celebrating
This year’s Fourth of July holds special significance: the United States is celebrating its 250th anniversary of independence.
“Just a quick, friendly note on history: the United States is actually celebrating its 250th anniversary of independence this year (1776 to 2026), two and a half centuries of this grand democratic experiment.”
Two hundred and fifty years is a remarkable milestone for any nation. It represents generations of Americans who have built, defended, and renewed the democratic experiment. It is a testament to the resilience of democratic institutions, the power of constitutional governance, and the enduring belief that all people are created equal and endowed with certain unalienable rights.
For Oromo Americans, this anniversary is particularly meaningful. It is a reminder that democracy, though imperfect, can endure. It is a source of hope for the future of their homeland. And it is an invitation to be part of the ongoing American story.
Becoming Part of the American Story
“Thank you for sharing the moment and being part of the American story.”
These words carry a profound invitation. The American story is not complete—it is still being written. And Oromo Americans are among those writing it.
From community leaders to small business owners, from students to professionals, from artists to activists, Oromo Americans are contributing to the fabric of American life. They are bringing their culture, their resilience, and their hopes to a nation that has welcomed them. They are honouring their heritage while embracing their new homeland.
The Big 250: How Are You Celebrating?
As the fireworks light up the Minnesota sky, as families gather around tables filled with traditional American fare and Oromo dishes, the question resonates:
“How are you and your family celebrating the big 250th today?”
For some, it is a quiet reflection—a moment to consider how far they have come and what they have overcome. For others, it is a jubilant celebration—a time to dance, to feast, and to give thanks. For all, it is a recognition that freedom is a gift to be cherished and protected.
Looking Forward: Freedom for All
As Oromo Americans celebrate the 250th anniversary of American independence, their celebrations are tinged with hope—hope that the freedoms they have found in the United States will one day be available to their families and communities back in Oromia.
The Fourth of July is not just about the past. It is about the future—the ongoing struggle for justice, equality, and freedom for all people, everywhere. And in that struggle, Oromo Americans are playing their part.
Happy 250th Independence Day to all Americans—and especially to the Oromo community in Minnesota, who remind us all that freedom is a precious gift, never to be taken for granted.
Minnesota’s Oromo community celebrates with gratitude, reflection, and hope—honoring two and a half centuries of American democracy while looking forward to a future of freedom for all.
Advocacy for Oromia 