Category Archives: Irreechaa

Irreecha at Hora Liqqimee: A Peaceful Thanksgiving in Debre Libanos

By Daandii Ragabaa

DEBRE LIBANOS, Central Oromia — In the heart of North Shewa, where the highlands roll toward the gorge of the Blue Nile and the ancient monastery of Debre Libanos has stood for over seven centuries, the Oromo community gathered at Hora Liqqimee to celebrate Irreecha. The festival, marking the end of the dark rainy season and the arrival of Birraa, was observed peacefully—a quiet but meaningful testament to the enduring power of Oromo tradition in a region known more for its religious history than for its Irreecha celebrations.

A Festival of Gratitude in a Sacred Landscape

Irreecha is, at its core, an act of thanksgiving. The Oromo people gather at water sources—malkaa—to offer gratitude to Waaqa for peace, health, a good harvest, and the well-being of family and livestock, while praying for blessings in the year to come . At Hora Liqqimee, participants carried fresh green grass and yellow keelloo flowers to the water’s edge, dipping them into the lake and sprinkling the water as a blessing—a ritual of renewal that connects the present generation to an unbroken chain of practice stretching back centuries .

The location itself carries layers of meaning. Debre Libanos is home to one of Ethiopia’s most significant Orthodox monasteries, founded in 1284 by Saint Tekle Haymanot, and the surrounding area is steeped in religious history . Yet the celebration of Irreecha here speaks to a different dimension of Oromo spiritual life—one rooted in the indigenous relationship between the people, the land, and the Creator. The peaceful coexistence of these traditions in the same landscape is itself a quiet statement about the pluralism that has long characterized Oromo society.

The Presence of Gadaa and Elders

The celebration was honored by the presence of Abbootii Gadaa and Haadholii Siinqee, whose participation lends the festival its institutional and spiritual authority. In Oromo tradition, Irreecha is not merely a cultural event but a ritual embedded within the Gadaa system—the indigenous democratic order recognized by UNESCO as Intangible Cultural Heritage . The elders’ presence at the water’s edge is a living expression of a system that has regulated Oromo social, political, and spiritual life for generations.

The Abbaa Malkaa (father of the river) and the Abbaa Gadaa play central roles in the blessing that precedes the communal thanksgiving. Traditionally, the site is cleansed and blessed before the gathered community is blessed in turn. At Hora Liqqimee, this sequence unfolded as it has for countless seasons, grounding the celebration in a framework of legitimacy that no external authority can confer.

A Call for Peace and Reconciliation

Irreecha is not only about gratitude for the past; it is also about repairing relationships for the future. Traditional teachings emphasize that people should reconcile before entering the sacred gathering. Conflict, resentment, and division have no place at the water’s edge. The elders ask the gathered crowd: Are you at peace with each other? Are you at peace with the Creator? Only when the community affirms its peace does the thanksgiving officially begin.

The peaceful conduct of the celebration at Hora Liqqimee—described simply as having been held “in peace”—carries its own weight. In a region and a country where tensions often run high, the ability of a community to gather, give thanks, and disperse without incident is not a small achievement. It is a testament to the discipline and mutual respect that Irreecha cultivates among its participants.

A Tradition That Lives Beyond the Major Gatherings

While the largest Irreecha celebrations draw millions to Hora Finfinnee in Addis Ababa and Hora Arsadi in Bishoftu, the festival’s meaning is not diluted in smaller settings. Indeed, it is in places like Debre Libanos, at lakes like Hora Liqqimee, that the tradition remains most intimately connected to the land and the local community. The core elements are the same: the gathering at water, the carrying of fresh grass and flowers, the prayers of gratitude, and the reaffirmation of peace.

This year’s celebration at Hora Liqqimee may not have made headlines. But for the people who gathered there—elders in traditional attire, youth carrying keelloo, families reunited after the hardships of the rainy season—it was Irreecha in its fullest sense: a day of thanksgiving, a moment of community, and a reaffirmation of a identity that has survived and thrived for centuries.


Baga Irreecha Hora Liqqimee nagaan geenye!

Irreecha Malkaa Daabanaa Celebrated with Tradition in Bedelle

Birbirsa Lakkuu, Bedelle District — Under the open sky and amid the resonant chants of thanksgiving, the Irreecha Malkaa Daabanaa festival was celebrated in Birbirsa Lakkuu, in the Bedelle district of the South West Oromia Zone, with the traditional rites of the festival observed in full.

The celebration drew together elders, Abbaa Gadaa, community leaders, and thousands of participants who gathered to honor one of the most cherished cultural and spiritual traditions of the Oromo people. From the early hours of the morning, the grounds of Birbirsa Lakkuu filled with color, song, and the scent of fresh grass and flowers — symbols of renewal and gratitude that lie at the heart of Irreecha.

Speaking at the celebration, Abbaa Gadaa Maccaa, Abbaa Gadaa Warqinaa Tarreessaa, said that Irreecha demonstrates Oromo identity and strengthens coexistence among the Oromo people and other nations. He emphasized that the festival is more than a cultural gathering — it is a living expression of unity, mutual respect, and shared humanity.

He further noted that Oromo tradition and culture are a source of democracy, a path to peace, and therefore the current generation should embrace Oromo tradition early and use it to empower themselves. The values embedded in the Gadaa system, he explained, offer timeless lessons in governance, justice, and social harmony that remain deeply relevant today.

The Abbaa Gadaa and participants of the festival stated that they are working to strengthen the traditions of Irreecha and pass them on to the younger generation. They stressed that the youth — the custodians of tomorrow — must be actively engaged in learning and practicing these traditions so that the cultural heritage of the Oromo people continues to flourish for generations to come.

For the community of Bedelle, the celebration was a powerful reminder of the enduring bond between the people and their land, their faith, and their history. As participants departed with blessings and renewed hope, the message of Irreecha Malkaa Daabanaa echoed far beyond the festival grounds: a call to unity, peace, and the preservation of a proud and living heritage.

Irreecha at Malkaa Meexxii: A Community’s Thanksgiving in West Oromia

By Daandii Ragabaa

DAMBI DOLLO, West Oromia — The waters of Malkaa Meexxii ran clear and the grass was fresh as the Oromo community of Sayyo District gathered to celebrate Irreecha, the annual thanksgiving festival that marks the transition from the dark rainy season of Ganna into the light and renewal of Birraa. The celebration, held in Dambi Dollo, brought together Gadaa leaders, women elders, youth, and the wider community in a display of unity and gratitude that echoed traditions stretching back generations .

A Festival of Gratitude and Renewal

Irreecha is, at its core, a profound act of thanksgiving. The Oromo people gather at Malkaa—places associated with water—to give thanks to Waaqa (God) for life, rain, peace, and the blessings of the year that has passed, while praying for prosperity and a good season ahead . For the community of Sayyo, the celebration at Malkaa Meexxii was a moment to mark the end of the hardships of the rainy season and to welcome the renewal that Birraa brings.

The significance of the season is embedded in Oromo cosmology. The rainy months of June to September are understood as a time of difficulty—swollen rivers, floods, and the separation of families unable to travel. Irreecha marks the passage out of that darkness. As participants gather at the water’s edge, carrying fresh green grass and flowers, they enact a ritual of gratitude for survival and hope for what lies ahead.

The Presence of Gadaa and Elders

The celebration at Malkaa Meexxii was honored by the presence of the Abbootii Gadaa (Gadaa leaders) and Haadholii Siinqee (women elders), whose participation lends the festival its spiritual and institutional authority . In Oromo tradition, the Gadaa system provides the framework within which Irreecha is celebrated—an indigenous democratic order that regulates political, economic, social, and religious life . The elders’ presence at the river is not ceremonial decoration; it is the living expression of a system that has transmitted knowledge, values, and social organization across generations.

The Abbaa Malkaa (father of the river) and the Abbaa Gadaa play central roles in the blessing that precedes the communal thanksgiving. Traditionally, the Haati Malkaa (mother of the river) first cleanses the site, and the Abbaa Malkaa then blesses it, followed by the Abbaa Gadaa, before the gathered community is blessed in turn . At Malkaa Meexxii, this sequence unfolded as it has for countless seasons, connecting the present celebration to an unbroken chain of practice.

Youth and the Energy of Continuity

The festival was not only a gathering of elders. The youth were present in force, their energy a reminder that Irreecha is a living tradition, not a relic. The Qeerroo generation—young Oromo who have grown up in the wake of the cultural and political awakening of recent decades—brought their own vitality to the celebration. Their participation ensures that the knowledge and values embedded in Irreecha will be carried forward, even as each generation brings its own experiences and aspirations to the riverbank .

This intergenerational dimension is central to Irreecha’s enduring power. The festival is described as a meeting place between generations, where memory and modern life stand together. Elders pass on the values of peace, reconciliation, and respect for creation, while the young bring the energy that keeps the tradition alive.

A Call for Peace and Reconciliation

Irreecha is not only about gratitude for the past; it is also about repairing relationships for the future. Traditional teachings emphasize that people should reconcile before entering the sacred gathering. Conflict, insults, and resentment have no place at the water’s edge. The elders ask the gathered crowd: Are you at peace with each other? Are you at peace with the Creator? Are you at peace with creation? Only when the community affirms its peace does the thanksgiving officially begin .

At Malkaa Meexxii, this spirit of reconciliation was palpable. The festival brought together people from across the district, transcending the divisions that ordinary life can impose. For a day, the community was united in gratitude and hope—a reminder of what Irreecha at its best can achieve.

A Tradition That Lives

The celebration at Malkaa Meexxii is one of countless Irreecha gatherings taking place across Oromia and among the Oromo diaspora this season. While the largest celebrations draw millions to Hora Finfinnee in Addis Ababa and Hora Arsadi in Bishoftu, the festival’s meaning is not diluted in smaller settings. Indeed, it is in places like Dambi Dollo, at rivers like Malkaa Meexxii, that the tradition remains most intimately connected to the land and the community .

As the sun set on the celebration and families returned to their homes, the prayers offered at the water’s edge carried forward an ancient message: be grateful for what has been received, seek peace and reconciliation, respect creation, and face the future with hope. For the people of Sayyo, Irreecha at Malkaa Meexxii was not merely a festival. It was an affirmation of who they are—a nation that gives thanks, that remembers, and that endures.


Baga Irreecha Malkaa Meexxiitiin nu gahe!

The Man Who Would Redefine Ethiopia

Jawar Mohammed’s “Progressive Patriotism” and the Oromo Question: A New Chapter in Ethiopia’s National Story

By Sultan Abda Neja, Ph.D.

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For much of modern Ethiopian history, the question of who owns the nation has been answered in blood, in policy, and in silence. It is a question that has haunted the Oromo people—Ethiopia’s largest ethnolinguistic community—for generations. Their relationship with the modern Ethiopian state has been shaped by conquest, land dispossession, political exclusion, and cultural marginalization. Yet something is shifting. The old binary of Oromo resistance versus Ethiopian state nationalism is being challenged—not by a soldier, not by a separatist, but by a media-savvy activist-turned-thinker named Jawar Mohammed.

At the heart of this shift is a deceptively simple concept: Progressive Patriotism. It is Jawar’s attempt to articulate a political framework in which Oromo identity and Ethiopian national belonging are not mutually exclusive. It asks a new question: Can Oromo nationalism help redefine Ethiopian nationalism from within?

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The Long Road from Resistance

To understand the weight of Jawar’s proposition, one must first understand the weight of history. Oromo nationalism did not emerge in a vacuum. It grew out of the expansion and consolidation of the modern Ethiopian state, the incorporation of Oromo territories, and subsequent struggles over land, language, religion, and political representation.

The Ethiopian state-building project, for much of its history, was associated with centralized authority, cultural homogenization, and the marginalization of groups whose languages and political identities differed from those of the ruling elite. The Oromo Liberation Front (OLF), founded in 1973, became the most prominent expression of Oromo resistance. But even then, Oromo nationalism was never monolithic. Some advocated independence; others supported multinational federalism, stronger regional autonomy, or a democratic Ethiopian state.

The 1995 Constitution, which formally recognized the rights of nations, nationalities, and peoples—including the right to self-determination up to secession—represented a significant shift. Yet constitutional recognition did not automatically produce democratic governance. The political crisis that culminated in the 2014–2018 protests exposed the limits of the existing order. Oromo protesters mobilized against political exclusion, human rights abuses, and the proposed expansion of Addis Ababa into surrounding Oromia.

Then came 2018. Abiy Ahmed, an Oromo politician, became prime minister. It was a moment of symbolic triumph—an Oromo had reached the highest office in the land. But symbolism, as Jawar would later argue, is not transformation.

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Jawar’s Intervention: From Resistance to Governance

Jawar Mohammed’s political trajectory—from a fiery activist and media owner to a prominent voice in the debate over Ethiopia’s future—mirrors the broader evolution of Oromo political consciousness. His call for a transition from resistance politics to governance politics, and from ethnonationalism to broader nation-building, represents a significant shift.

In his writings and interviews, Jawar argues that Oromo politics must evolve beyond its traditional oppositional orientation. A movement that has historically defined itself through resistance must now demonstrate its capacity to govern, build institutions, deliver public services, and contribute to national stability. Political legitimacy cannot be sustained indefinitely through historical grievances alone.

This is not to suggest that Jawar asks Oromos to abandon their identity or their legitimate demands. Rather, he challenges the assumption that protecting Oromo interests and building a common Ethiopian political future are mutually exclusive. Given the Oromo people’s demographic significance, geographical position, cultural influence, and historical role in Ethiopia, their political participation is essential to any sustainable project of national reconstruction.

In a recent interview on Kallatti Media, Jawar explained that Ethiopian nationalism should not be understood as an identity or political project owned exclusively by historically dominant groups. Oromos, like other peoples of Ethiopia, have an equal right to define, shape, and participate in the national project. An Oromo can embrace Ethiopian citizenship, contribute to national unity, and take pride in a shared political identity without surrendering Oromo cultural identity or constitutional rights.

From this standpoint, Progressive Patriotism challenges the historical tendency to associate Ethiopian nationalism with cultural assimilation, political centralization, or the dominance of one group. It opens the possibility of an inclusive nationalism in which belonging to Ethiopia does not require becoming less Oromo.

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The Goobana Question: Heroes, Traitors, and the Politics of Memory

Jawar’s concept of Progressive Patriotism extends beyond constitutional arrangements. It also engages with the politics of memory—specifically, the way political movements construct historical narratives that distinguish heroes from traitors.

In his text, Goobana: The Hero-Traitor Narrative in the Oromo Struggle, Jawar examines how the figure of Goobana Daacee—a historical Oromo figure remembered as a collaborator with Emperor Menelik II and, consequently, a traitor—has been used within the Oromo national movement. The narrative of betrayal, Jawar argues, can serve important political purposes: it mobilizes communities, establishes collective memory, and defines political loyalties.

But when a movement moves from resistance to governance, such narratives become liabilities. A movement operating in opposition can organize its political identity around a clear distinction between the oppressed and the oppressor, resistance and collaboration, liberation and betrayal. A political movement that enters government, however, must negotiate competing interests, govern citizens with different identities, and build institutions that extend beyond its original constituency.

Jawar suggests that political movements may need to move from a resistance narrative toward a governing narrative. Figures previously condemned may be reassessed; figures celebrated may be subjected to new scrutiny. The task, he argues, is not to replace every hero with a traitor, but to create a political culture in which historical disagreements can be examined without becoming grounds for denying citizenship, identity, or political legitimacy.

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The Abiy Paradox: An Oromo Leader, but an Oromo-Empowering Government?

The question of Oromo ownership of Ethiopian nationalism cannot be separated from the political trajectory of Abiy Ahmed. His rise to power in 2018 symbolized the opportunity to translate Oromo political mobilization into democratic transformation at the national level.

His early reform agenda generated expectations of political liberalization, reconciliation, and greater openness. His government’s peace initiative with Eritrea further strengthened the image of a leader seeking to move beyond longstanding regional hostility. But the subsequent political project—associated with the formation of the Prosperity Party in 2019 and the language of Medemer—proved contentious.

Supporters interpreted Medemer as an attempt to overcome political fragmentation and the limitations of ethnic-based party organization. Critics, including Oromo nationalists, argued that it weakened the political and institutional protections established under multinational federalism. The war in Tigray, the subsequent armed conflicts in other regions, political polarization, and serious allegations of abuses by state and non-state actors exposed the limitations of a political transition that did not produce a broadly accepted democratic settlement.

The broader lesson is that an Oromo’s accession to the center of Ethiopian power does not automatically mean that Oromo nationalism has achieved its democratic objectives. An Oromo-led government is not necessarily an Oromo-empowering government, just as an Ethiopian national identity is not necessarily an exclusionary identity. The decisive issue is the character of the institutions and policies through which political power is exercised.

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The Critics Speak: Progressive Patriotism Under the Microscope

Jawar’s Progressive Patriotism has not gone unchallenged. Critics from across the political spectrum have raised important questions about its conceptual clarity, its practical implications, and its relationship to the status quo.

Moges Zewdu Teshome argues that Jawar conflates multinational federalism, multicultural federalism, and a multicultural unitary state—distinct institutional arrangements that cannot be resolved simply by democratizing an allegedly flawed constitutional structure. He advocates revisiting the constitutional order, strengthening an inclusive civic identity, and building a political community in which citizenship is not subordinated to ethnic affiliation.

Professor Messay Kebede challenges Jawar’s claim that ethnonationalism has become effectively irreversible, reasoning that political identities and institutions are historically constructed and can therefore change. He proposes democratic or civic nationalism as a more coherent alternative, arguing that inclusive democratic institutions can protect cultural diversity without making ethnic political sovereignty the organizing principle of the state.

Benti Geleta Buli, through a sentiment analysis of Jawar’s proposal, notes that the term “progressive” remains inadequately defined and could become a rhetorical framework that preserves the status quo rather than resolving Ethiopia’s political divisions. He presents constitutional patriotism as a more constructive alternative grounded in shared constitutional values, democratic participation, and inclusive citizenship.

And in my own earlier critique, I argued that Jawar’s distinction between “centripetal” and “centrifugal” political forces unfairly portrays ethnonationalist movements while underemphasizing the historical injustices, assimilationist policies, and authoritarian practices that gave rise to them. Appealing to right-wing Ethiopian nationalists by equating their historical responsibilities with those of ethnonationalist movements risks undermining the legitimate struggles and sacrifices of nations and nationalities, including the Oromo people.

These critiques are not dismissive. They are, in fact, a sign of the seriousness with which Jawar’s intervention is being taken. They demand that Progressive Patriotism move beyond slogan and toward institutional specificity.

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Toward a Constitutional Patriotism: The Roadmap

If Progressive Patriotism is to become more than a rhetorical compromise, it must be grounded in concrete institutional commitments. One possible way to clarify it is to connect it to constitutional patriotism—attachment to a political community based on shared constitutional principles, democratic institutions, equal citizenship, and fundamental rights rather than ethnic or cultural uniformity.

For Ethiopia, such a framework would require at least five commitments:

1. Meaningful regional self-government and the rights of nations, nationalities, and peoples must be constitutionally protected.

2. Federal and regional governments must be accountable through genuinely competitive political processes and an independent judiciary.

3. Minorities within regional states must enjoy equal citizenship, cultural rights, security, and political participation.

4. National institutions must be accessible to citizens regardless of language, ethnicity, religion, or political affiliation.

5. Disputes over federal authority, regional boundaries, resources, and political representation must be resolved through credible constitutional procedures rather than coercion.

Beyond these constitutional commitments, a pragmatic roadmap for Oromo ownership of Ethiopian nationalism requires several practical steps: protecting political pluralism within Oromo society, democratizing multinational federalism, establishing credible national dialogue, creating effective mechanisms for accountability, promoting an inclusive national historical narrative, and defining Progressive Patriotism institutionally.

It also requires a crucial conceptual separation: national unity must be separated from unconditional support for a government. Citizens should be able to oppose a prime minister, criticize the federal government, or demand constitutional change without being branded enemies of Ethiopia. Likewise, support for Oromo rights should not require unconditional loyalty to an Oromo political organization.

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The Future of Ethiopian Nationalism: A Shared Project

The most important question, ultimately, is not whether Oromo nationalism should disappear into Ethiopian nationalism or remain permanently opposed to it. It is whether both can be transformed through democratic institutions so that neither requires the political subordination of the other.

Jawar Mohammed’s Progressive Patriotism is an attempt to articulate a framework in which ethnic identity and shared national belonging can coexist. Its credibility depends on democratic institutions, constitutional protections, political pluralism, and an explicit rejection of coercive assimilation. Abiy Ahmed’s experience illustrates the dangers of attempting to build national cohesion by weakening the political forces and constitutional guarantees through which historically marginalized communities sought recognition.

The future of Ethiopian nationalism will depend on whether the country can build a political community in which unity is freely sustained rather than coercively imposed, ethnic identities are protected rather than demonized, and national citizenship is shared rather than monopolized.

Oromo nationalism’s most consequential contribution to Ethiopia may ultimately be its capacity to help transform Ethiopian nationalism from an inherited claim of state authority into a genuinely shared project of democratic citizenship. That is the promise of Progressive Patriotism. Whether it becomes a reality depends not on the eloquence of its advocates, but on the institutions through which it is enacted—and on the willingness of all Ethiopians, Oromo and non-Oromo alike, to engage in the difficult, patient work of democratic negotiation.

The question is no longer whether the Oromo belong to Ethiopia. The question is what kind of Ethiopia can belong equally to Oromos and all other citizens. The answer, if it comes, will not be found in slogans or in the shadow of a single leader. It will be found in the constitution, in the ballot box, and in the everyday practice of citizenship.

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Sultan Abda Neja, Ph.D., is a political analyst and author specializing in Ethiopian politics, federalism, and ethnonationalism. His work has appeared in Borkena and other outlets.

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The Irony of Faisal Roble’s Attack on Oromo Nationalism: A History of Somali Expansionism

By Asfaw Beyene

I was taken aback by recent comments from two prominent political commentators of Somali ethnicity, Farah Maalim and Faisal Roble, both associated with Nairobi’s political circles. My focus here is on the remarks made by Faisal Roble.

In an interview with a media outlet unfamiliar to me, Faisal Roble expressed concern about what he described as the growing number of “ultra-nationalists” among the Oromo. He claimed that these nationalists had become so numerous, indeed, “huge” in number, that the phenomenon posed a danger to Ethiopia.

He then asked why Oromo nationalists had become so radicalized, suggesting that the movement’s supposed extremism might be explained by its being relatively new and youthful. As evidence of what he called the “pervasive” nature of Oromo nationalism, he alleged that Oromo nationalists were making territorial claims extending as far as Mogadishu, Djibouti, Yemen, Kenya, and Eritrea.

By the time I finished listening to the interview, I found myself wondering whether Faisal Roble had confused Somali ultra-nationalists with Oromo nationalists. Nearly every characteristic he attributed to Oromo nationalism seemed far more applicable to the historical record of Somali expansionist nationalism.

His argument deserves careful examination.

The Contradictions in Faisal Roble’s Argument

First, the history of radical nationalism in the Horn of Africa cannot be discussed without examining Somali expansionism.  Somali nationalism has a long and complicated history. Its expansionist manifestations, particularly the ideology of Greater Somalia, contributed to regional wars, territorial disputes, and political instability. Somalia’s own experience with authoritarian rule, civil war, and state collapse demonstrates the destructive potential of nationalism when it becomes inseparable from territorial ambition and political exclusion.

It would be simplistic to attribute Somalia’s decades of instability entirely to nationalism. Nevertheless, the historical consequences of expansionist and pervasive Somali nationalism are too significant to ignore.

Second, Faisal Roble describes Oromo nationalism as a danger to Ethiopia.  This assertion raises a fundamental question: a danger to which Ethiopia?  If Oromo nationalism seeks equality, self-determination, political representation, and the protection of Oromo rights, it can be considered a danger only to a political order that refuses to recognize those rights.

A political movement demanding justice for a historically marginalized people should not automatically be characterized as extremist. The distinction between legitimate national aspirations and exclusionary ultra-nationalism is essential.

Third, Faisal portrays Oromo nationalism as a new and youthful phenomenon.

This reflects a troubling misunderstanding of Oromo history.  The historical roots of Oromo collective identity, political institutions, resistance, and struggles over sovereignty extend back centuries. The Oromo played a major role in the political transformations of the Horn of Africa during the sixteenth century, long before the emergence of the modern Ethiopian state.

Modern Oromo nationalism took shape through subsequent historical experiences, particularly the incorporation of Oromo territories into the expanding Ethiopian Empire during the nineteenth century.  To describe Oromo nationalism simply as a new movement is to overlook this long historical trajectory.

Fourth, Faisal alleges that Oromo nationalists claim territories extending to Mogadishu, Djibouti, Yemen, Kenya, and Eritrea.  This is perhaps the most extraordinary part of his argument.  I have yet to encounter a credible statement by a recognized Oromo political party, organization, or prominent nationalist leader asserting territorial claims over Mogadishu, Yemen, Eritrea, or Djibouti.

If Faisal possesses such evidence, he should present it. Which Oromo political organization has made these claims? When were they made? In what official document or public statement?  Without such evidence, these allegations amount to a sweeping and potentially inflammatory misrepresentation of Oromo nationalism.

The irony is striking: the territorial ambitions he attributes to Oromo nationalists bear a much closer resemblance to the historically documented ideology of Greater Somalia.  This leads to a more important question: Why has Faisal Roble chosen this moment to launch such an attack on Oromo nationalism?  To explore that question, we must examine the emerging political connections between Nairobi, Mogadishu, and Jijjiga.

The Nairobi–Mogadishu–Jijjiga Nexus

Recent political developments in the Horn of Africa raise questions about the relationships among Somali nationalist networks, political actors in Somalia, and political movements operating within Ethiopia’s Somali Region.  Nairobi has long served as an important center for Somali political, commercial, and diaspora activity. Its significance as a meeting place for politicians, businesspeople, and opposition figures is well established.  However, the existence of these networks does not, by itself, establish that they operate under a coordinated political agenda.

What concerns me is the possibility that certain political actors are attempting to exploit regional tensions, territorial disputes, and opposition alliances to advance a renewed expansionist agenda.  This concern becomes particularly important when viewed alongside recent political developments in Ethiopia and the changing alliances among armed and opposition movements.

The Minnesota Fraud Cases and the Nairobi Connection

Recent federal fraud prosecutions in Minnesota have also drawn attention to the movement of stolen public funds into overseas investments, including real estate in Kenya.  Among the individuals named in connection with these cases, several of them have investments in Nairobi realestate. The diversion of funds intended to feed vulnerable children is deeply disturbing. Such misconduct betrays taxpayers’ trust, harms the communities these programs were designed to serve, and unfairly tarnishes the reputation of the many honest, hardworking Somali Americans who have contributed to their communities and American society.  Criminal responsibility rests with the individuals involved and should never be generalized to an entire ethnic or immigrant community. Nevertheless, for Oromos and Kenyans, reports of property acquisitions by individuals indicted in the Minnesota fraud cases, in a city (Nairobi) where allegations of a nonexistent Oromo ultranationalist movement have suddenly surfaced, raise legitimate concerns. This does not imply any connection between those implicated in Minnesota and political figures in Nairobi. Rather, the broader question is whether illicit financial networks, political influence, and regional nationalist agendas intersect in ways that warrant further investigation.

The ONLF and the Changing Political Alliances in Ethiopia

In September 2026, the Ogaden National Liberation Front (ONLF) was reported to have joined a coalition known as the Ethiopian Peoples’ Forces Alliance for Survival, bringing together seven armed and opposition organizations opposed to Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed’s administration.

The ONLF has historically pursued Somali self-determination in Ethiopia’s Somali Region. Its political trajectory must also be understood in the context of the broader history of Somali nationalism and the territorial disputes that have shaped relations between Ethiopia and Somalia.  The changing fortunes of opposition alliances, including those associated with the TPLF, may have created opportunities for other political movements to reposition themselves.

I am particularly concerned that some advocates of Somali expansionist nationalism may see these developments as an opportunity to revive older territorial ambitions.  Faisal Roble’s political commentary and Farah Maalim’s reported statements about support for the ONLF deserve examination in this context, despite political sympathy for an organization should not be confused with proof of operational involvement in its activities.  The critical issue is whether opposition to the Ethiopian government is being used to advance legitimate political demands or to reopen territorial conflicts between neighboring communities.

Moyale, Borana, and the Politics of Territorial Expansion

Recent tensions around Moyale and Borana territory have intensified these concerns.  Moyale lies in a historically sensitive borderland where Oromo and Somali communities, including Borana and Garri populations, have longstanding relationships shaped by trade, migration, political competition, and periodic conflict.

Reports of violence, including the alleged killing of a 13-year-old girl and the reported refusal to return her body to her family, are deeply disturbing. These allegations demand an independent investigation, accountability, and justice for the victim’s family.  No territorial or political dispute can justify the killing of a child.  This is extreme nationalism in action.

Of particular concern are reports that a Somali national flag, rather than the flag of Ethiopia’s Somali Regional State, was raised in contested territory.  If verified, such an act would carry political significance extending beyond an ordinary local dispute. It would raise questions about whether the conflict was being framed in terms of Somali national territorial ambitions rather than local administrative boundaries.  This is why I do not believe the tensions should be dismissed simply as a dispute between the Garri and Borana communities both of whom are Oromos and both of whom speak Oromo language.  There is a larger historical and political context that deserves examination.

The timing of Faisal Roble’s remarks, following heightened tensions and Oromo reactions to events in the area, is striking. His criticism of Oromo nationalism appears to reflect a broader political anxiety about Oromo resistance to territorial encroachment.  Whether this interpretation is correct requires further evidence. Nevertheless, it provides a compelling reason to examine the historical record of Somali expansionist nationalism.

Greater Somalia: The Historical Irony

Perhaps the greatest irony in Faisal Roble’s accusations is that the territorial expansionism he attributes to Oromo nationalists closely resembles the ideology of Greater Somalia.  The Greater Somalia project was not an imaginary accusation invented by political opponents. It was an explicit political objective promoted by extreme Somali nationalist movements and successive Somali governments.  Its central ambition was to unite Somali-inhabited territories across the Horn of Africa under a single political entity.  This included the Somali Republic, the Ogaden and other Somali-inhabited territories of Ethiopia, the Northern Frontier District of Kenya, and Djibouti.  The five-pointed star on Somalia’s flag historically symbolized these five Somali territories.

Under Siad Barre, this ideology became closely associated with military expansionism and the attempt to alter established international borders by force.  Thus, the history of Somali ultra-nationalism is not merely a history of territorial ambition. It is also a warning about the destructive consequences of authoritarianism, militarization, and exclusionary political identity.

Against this historical background, Faisal Roble’s portrayal of Oromo nationalism as uniquely expansionist becomes especially difficult to understand.

The Western Somali Liberation Front and the Ogaden War

The Western Somali Liberation Front (WSLF) provides one of the clearest historical examples of ultra nationalism and the territorial objectives associated with Greater Somalia.  Supported by the Somali government, the WSLF operated in eastern Ethiopia and played a significant role in the conflict that culminated in the 1977 – 1978 Ogaden War.  The name Western Somali Liberation Front itself reflected a territorial conception in which parts of internationally recognized Ethiopian territory were regarded as belonging to a broader Somali nation.

During the war, Somali forces advanced into substantial portions of eastern Ethiopia before being defeated by Ethiopian forces.  The conflict had devastating consequences for the region and its civilian populations, the broader military campaign and associated political movements affected Oromo communities and territories.  But the central point is undeniable: territorial revisionism was an explicit component of the Greater Somalia project, manifested as ultra nationalism.  These fanatical adventures to alter boarders by force led to the disintegration of the Somali state apparatus and the mushrooming of warlords.

Where, then, is the equivalent documented Oromo nationalist program claiming Mogadishu, Yemen, or Eritrea?  If Faisal Roble wishes to make that comparison, the burden of evidence rests with him.

From the WSLF to the ONLF

The decline of the WSLF and the emergence of the ONLF marked an important transformation in Somali nationalist politics in Ethiopia.  The ONLF emerged in the 1980s and eventually became a major political and armed organization advocating self-determination for ethnic Somalis in Ethiopia.  Although the ONLF and WSLF differed in their organizational structures, political circumstances, and stated objectives, their histories are connected to the broader question of Somali national identity and political sovereignty in the Horn of Africa.

The relationship between Somali nationalist movements and Oromo liberation organizations has also been complex.  At different times, their interests have converged around opposition to Ethiopian central governments. At other times, territorial competition, political rivalry, and conflicting national aspirations have generated serious tensions.  Historical attacks of Somali extremists on Oromo liberation figures, including the 10 massacred at Shinniga in 1980 have deeply saddened the Oromo people, leaving a historical scar.  Faisal shall pour no more fuel to these historic wounds and respect the brotherly sentiment that existed between Oromos and Somalis for centuries.

The Somali Abo Liberation Front and the Struggle Over Oromo Territory

During the 1970s, the Somali government supported extremist Somali movements operating in southern Ethiopia, including areas historically associated with the provinces of Bale, Sidamo, and Arsi.  These regions were primarily inhabited by Oromo populations.  The SALF mobilized some communities in these areas to suit Somalia’s regional political and military objectives.  Unlike the WSLF, which focused primarily on Somali national claims in eastern Ethiopia, the SALF’s activities extended into areas where Oromo identity and political aspirations were central.  It was a clear expansionist and extremist move to annex some Oromo territories including the Garri.

Following Somalia’s defeat in the Ogaden War, the Oromo Abo Liberation Front (OALF) emerged reflecting changing political identities and alliances.  The precise organizational relationship between the SALF and OALF, including claims about formal renaming and changes in political affiliation, remain beyond the scope of this paper.  Nevertheless, the broader history illustrates an important point: Somali state-sponsored political and military movements were active in territories inhabited by Oromo communities, and the growing national aspirations of Somali extremism was already evident decades ago.

This is the historical context in which false accusations of Oromo territorial expansionism must be evaluated.  It is important to note that out of such piles of political extremism was born Al-Shabaab, whose emergence was also shaped by a different mix of ideology, state collapse, and extremist politics.  There simply are no parallels to such extremism in the Oromo body politics, reason why Faisal’s statement itself comes as extreme.

Who Is Really Promoting Expansionist Nationalism?

Faisal Roble’s comments raise questions that cannot be avoided.  Why are political commentators such as Faisal Roble and Farah Maalim devoting so much attention to the alleged dangers of Oromo nationalism while appearing less concerned about the documented history of Somali territorial expansionism?  Why portray Oromo demands for political rights and territorial security as extremist while failing to apply the same scrutiny to the ideology of Greater Somalia?  And why should Oromo opposition to perceived territorial encroachment be interpreted as radicalization rather than as a legitimate concern about security, identity, and political rights?

These questions are especially important given the continuing challenges facing Somalia itself.

Somalia has struggled for decades with state fragmentation, armed insurgency, political instability, and the difficulty of establishing effective authority across its territory. Regional and international assistance, including sacrifices made by Ethiopian forces, has played a significant role in efforts to restore security.  I have no doubt that many of these forces come from Oromia.

Rather than reopening old territorial disputes, political leaders and commentators should devote greater attention to peace, accountable governance, economic development, and cooperation among the peoples of the Horn of Africa.

This is not an argument against Somali nationalism as an expression of cultural identity or legitimate political aspiration. Nor is it a criticism of Somali people, whose communities have suffered enormously from war, displacement, and political instability.  It is an argument against expansionist ultra-nationalism, regardless of who promotes it.

Conclusion: The Danger of Historical Amnesia

Faisal Roble’s criticism of Oromo nationalism suffers from a fundamental contradiction.  He warns against an alleged Oromo expansionist movement without identifying credible evidence of the extraordinary territorial claims he attributes to it. Yet the historical record contains extensive documentation of Somali nationalist movements that openly pursued territorial revisionism across the Horn of Africa.

The Greater Somalia project, the WSLF, the Ogaden War, and the history of Somali-backed political movements in southern Ethiopia are not matters of speculation. They are part of the region’s political history.

None of this means that Oromo nationalism should be exempt from criticism. Any nationalist movement can become intolerant, exclusionary, or extremist. Oromo nationalism, like every other political movement, should be judged by its principles, conduct, and respect for the rights of others.  But criticism must be grounded in evidence, not sweeping accusations or historical distortions.

If Faisal Roble believes that Oromo nationalists are claiming Mogadishu, Yemen, Djibouti, Eritrea, and Kenya, he should identify the organizations, leaders, statements, and documents that substantiate his allegations.  Until then, his claims remain unsupported.

The peoples of the Horn of Africa have suffered enough from territorial wars, political manipulation, and competing nationalist ambitions. They deserve a future based on mutual recognition, historical honesty, and respect for one another’s rights.  The real danger to Ethiopia and the wider Horn of Africa is not the legitimate expression of Oromo or Somali national identity. It is the revival of expansionist ideologies that treat the territories and rights of neighboring peoples as objects of political conquest.  That is the danger Faisal Roble should be addressing rather than projecting onto Oromo nationalism the very expansionist tendencies that have already caused so much suffering in the region.

The Lion of Borana: Remembering Guyyoo Boruu Galmaa, the Abbaa Gadaa Who Defied Empires

By Dhabessa Wakjira

In the annals of Oromo history, there are leaders who govern, and then there are those who become the embodiment of a people’s resistance. Guyyoo Boruu Galmaa, who served as the Abbaa Gadaa of the Borana Oromo from 1944 to 1952, belongs unequivocally to the latter. He was not merely a custodian of the ancient Gadaa system; he was a shield against the encroaching empires of the 20th century—a man whose defiance of both Italian invaders and the Ethiopian imperial state preserved the soul of the Borana people.

His story, deeply intertwined with the fate of the sacred wells and the contested borders of Moyale, offers a masterclass in indigenous diplomacy and unyielding sovereignty.

A Legacy Born in the Shadow of Partition

The roots of Guyyoo Boruu’s leadership stretch back to a defining tragedy for the Borana nation. In 1907, the British and Ethiopian empires signed the Anglo-Ethiopian Boundary Agreement, a colonial decree that arbitrarily carved the Borana homeland in two, dividing the people of Moyale.

At that time, it was Boruu Galmaa Dooyyoo—the father of Guyyoo—who served as the Abbaa Gadaa. He was among the first to openly reject the treaty, recognizing it not as a legal boundary, but as an existential threat to the unity and sovereignty of the Borana. The son inherited the father’s fire.

In 1944, when Guyyoo Boruu Galmaa took the Baallii (the ritual transfer of power) and assumed the mantle of Abbaa Gadaa, he stepped into a region rife with external pressure. The Borana were not only facing the legacy of the 1907 partition but were also navigating the chaotic fallout of global wars and shifting imperial ambitions in the Horn of Africa.

Defying the Italian War Machine

Historical records reveal that Guyyoo Boruu’s leadership did not begin in 1944; his journey as a freedom fighter started much earlier. Between 1936 and 1945, he was actively leading the Borana Oromo in resistance against the Italian occupation.

When the Italians invaded, they brought not just armies, but a strategy of land seizure. As the historical account notes, the Italian forces attempted to annex vast tracts of Handaraa land, claiming everything except the sacred Arddaa and Tula (water wells). Guyyoo Boruu responded by building the Borana Gadaa structures and waging a relentless war against the Italians.

His struggle was not just about repelling a foreign army; it was about defending the sacred ecology of Borana life. The Tula wells were the lifeblood of the cattle and the people. Guyyoo Boruu understood that to lose the land was to lose the wells, and to lose the wells was to lose the Borana identity itself.

Standing Against the Imperial Crown

Following the defeat of the Italians, the Borana faced a new, more insidious threat: the expanding centralization of Emperor Haile Selassie’s government. Between 1947 and 1950, the imperial regime sought to impose its administrative and cultural dominance on the southern frontiers.

Guyyoo Boruu Galmaa became the primary obstacle to this encroachment. He did not merely resist the political pressures of the imperial state; he actively protected the Gadaa system, ensuring that traditional laws, democratic consensus, and indigenous governance continued to thrive despite the centralizing forces of Addis Ababa.

His defiance culminated in a moment of profound historical significance. In 1950, the Haile Selassie government, seeking to co-opt local leaders, offered Guyyoo Boruu the title of “Giraazmach”—a high-ranking imperial military and administrative honor.

He refused.

In rejecting the title, Guyyoo Boruu Galmaa made a definitive statement of Oromo autonomy. He rejected the legitimacy of an empire that had partitioned his people and threatened their customs. By turning his back on imperial honors, he affirmed that his authority came not from a distant emperor, but from the Gadaa, the Borana people, and the land itself.

The Enduring Wisdom of the Elders

The legacy of Guyyoo Boruu Galmaa is not confined to the history books; it is a living, breathing testament to the resilience of Oromo culture.

His life was meticulously documented by Western anthropologists who recognized the profound nature of the Borana political system. The renowned scholar Eike Haberland photographed him in 1952—the year he completed his term as Abbaa Gadaa. Decades later, in 1986, anthropologist Günther Schlee captured another historic moment: Guyyoo Boruu, then approximately 95 years old, was photographed at the Gumii Gaayyoo (the great assembly) as his son, Boruu Guyyoo Boruu, took the Baallii and assumed the leadership of the Gadaa.

That photograph, showing the aged father watching his son take the reins of power, is a powerful visual metaphor. It represents the unbroken chain of the Gadaa system—a system that Guyyoo Boruu fought to protect with weapons, diplomacy, and sheer moral courage.

A Beacon for the Present

As the Oromo people today face a renewed crisis of state violence, displacement, and the ongoing political capture of their sacred resources—including the Tuula Saglan Booranaa—the legacy of Guyyoo Boruu Galmaa serves as a vital beacon.

He stands as a reminder that Oromo sovereignty is ancient, sophisticated, and deeply rooted in a democratic culture that predates modern statehood. He proved that true leadership is not measured by the titles bestowed by empires, but by the courage to defend one’s people against them.

Nearly a century after he began his resistance, the spirit of Guyyoo Boruu Galmaa still echoes across the plains of Borana, flowing like the waters of the sacred wells he fought to protect: undivided, unbroken, and eternally free.


Photos: Guyyoo Boruu Galmaa, photographed by Eike Haberland (1952) and Günther Schlee (1986).

Terror in Mandera: Ethiopian Oromos Seek Refuge After Fatal Stabbing Amid Rising Border Tensions

By Daandii Ragabaa

Fear has gripped the Ethiopian Oromo community in Mandera town, Kenya, following the brutal stabbing to death of one of their colleagues. In a desperate bid for survival, several members of the community have reportedly sought refuge at the Mandera Police Station, appealing to the Kenyan government and security agencies for urgent protection.

The killing, which has sent shockwaves through the cross-border community, highlights the precarious reality facing Ethiopian nationals living and working in Kenya, many of whom are fleeing the devastating conflict in their home country.

According to community members, the victim was targeted simply for being an Ethiopian Oromo. The group is insisting they are innocent civilians who should not be forced to pay the price for the ongoing political violence and tensions linked to events across the border.

“We are appealing to the authorities to intervene and guarantee our protection,” a community representative said. “We should not be held responsible for tensions or violence linked to events across the border. We are here to work and live in peace.”

The fatal stabbing has raised serious concerns about the security of Ethiopian nationals in Mandera, a town that sits squarely on the Ethiopia-Kenya border—a region already deeply scarred by arbitrary colonial borders, resource-based conflicts, and the spillover effects of the Ethiopian government’s military campaigns in Oromia.

For many Oromos, crossing into Kenya is a matter of survival. As documented by human rights organizations, Oromo civilians displaced by government forces and state-aligned militias constitute the bulk of Ethiopian refugees fleeing to neighboring countries. Yet, as the tragedy in Mandera demonstrates, the search for safety often leads them into new environments of hostility and xenophobia, where they are scapegoated for broader geopolitical tensions.

The situation in Mandera remains highly volatile. The affected individuals are now calling on community leaders, the Kenyan government, and security agencies to step in immediately to prevent any retaliatory attacks and ensure calm and restraint among residents.

They emphasize a fundamental principle of human dignity: that all residents, regardless of their nationality or ethnic background, must be able to live and work without fear.

As the community mourns the loss of their colleague and huddles in police stations for safety, the incident serves as a stark reminder of the regional fallout of the crisis in the Horn of Africa. It is a humanitarian emergency that ignores national borders, demanding urgent attention and protection for vulnerable civilians caught in the crossfire of a conflict they did not choose.


Video credit: Dawa FM

World of Africa: Tens of Thousands Gather in Addis Ababa for Irreecha, Calls for Peace Ring Out

Africa’s largest indigenous thanksgiving festival brings a sea of white and color to the capital, as participants use the ancient celebration to demand an end to Ethiopia’s conflicts.

(WorldOfAfrica, Addis Ababa — October 3, 2026) Tens of thousands of Oromo people flooded the sacred grounds of Hora Finfinnee in Addis Ababa on Saturday morning, transforming the heart of the Ethiopian capital into a spectacular display of culture, tradition, and spiritual devotion.

The annual Irreecha thanksgiving festival, celebrated at the end of the rainy season and the beginning of the harvest, brought together participants from across Oromia, other regions of Ethiopia, and the diaspora. Dressed in vibrant traditional attire, they gathered at the water’s edge to offer prayers of gratitude to Waaqa, the Creator, through singing, dancing, and ancient rituals.


A Sea of Color and Tradition

From the early morning hours, hundreds of thousands of people converged on Hora Finfinnee, filling the celebration grounds with music, blessings, and a powerful sense of cultural pride. The festival’s sea of colors, traditional costumes, and synchronized dances created what observers described as a spectacular cultural scene in the heart of Addis Ababa.

Abbaa Gadaas — traditional Oromo leaders — elders, youth, and guests from diverse backgrounds joined the celebration, showcasing the richness and diversity of Oromo cultural heritage. The festival also reflects the enduring values of the Gadaa system, the traditional Oromo governance structure recognized by UNESCO as an Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity.

Participants carried fresh green grass and yellow Adey Abeba flowers to the water, dipping them into the sacred waters and sprinkling them as blessings for the land, cattle, and people — symbols of fertility, renewal, and hope.


Calls for Peace Amid Ongoing Conflict

But this year’s celebration carried a weightier message. As the festival unfolded, participants and elders used the occasion to call for an end to the conflicts plaguing various parts of Ethiopia.

The gathering took place amid reports that federal forces had entered Mekelle, the capital of the northern Tigray region, escalating fears of renewed conflict.

“Even though peace has been disturbed in the past years, the Oromo are now celebrating Irreecha beautifully, but there are wars in various places,” said student Simert Ababa. “I say that needs to be stabilised as much as possible, and this government has a role in that. Children should not miss their education, mothers should not be harmed, children should not be harmed.”

Bilise Mohammed, another student, echoed the sentiment: “For those in the north, create an agreement so the war stops. To the government and to those who are fighting, peace comes first. The people are the ones that are dying, this won’t take you anywhere.”

Oromo elders at the festival urged those involved in the conflict to resolve their differences through dialogue, warning that internal divisions could leave Ethiopia vulnerable to external threats. Police maintained a visible presence at Meskel Square and the festival grounds to ensure security.


A Festival Beyond Celebration

Irreecha is far more than a cultural gathering. For the Oromo people — Ethiopia’s largest ethnic group — it is a spiritual cornerstone, a time of gratitude, reconciliation, and community renewal. The festival marks the transition from Ganna, the dark rainy season, to Birraa, the bright spring season.

Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed, in his Irreecha message, drew a direct parallel between the natural seasons and Ethiopia’s political journey. He described how the Oromo people gather at the river for traditional thanksgiving rituals — fathers reciting “Marehoo” and mothers reciting “Araaroo” — offering gratitude to the Creator.

The Prime Minister also used the occasion to call for national unity and reconciliation, citing an Oromo proverb: “The house where one sleeps is better than the one where one merely spends the evening.” He reaffirmed his government’s commitment to peace and urged armed groups to choose dialogue over prolonged conflict.


A Celebration That Continues to Grow

What began as a traditional thanksgiving ceremony has become one of the largest cultural gatherings in Africa, drawing millions to sacred sites across Oromia and capturing growing international attention.

The return of Irreechaa to Hora Finfinnee — the original sacred site in the heart of Addis Ababa — is seen as a historic reclamation of cultural space. For decades, public celebrations were suppressed, and the Oromo people were denied the right to gather at their sacred sites.

As the sun set over the capital and the crowds began their journey home, the spirit of Irreechaa lingered. The green grass may wither, but the blessings sought and the bonds forged will endure until the waters rise again next year.

Irreecha for National Consensus! Irreecha for Peace and Unity!


For World of Africa, I’m Eric Njoka, Addis Ababa.

Irreechaa 2026: “For National Consensus” — A Festival Beyond Celebration

The ancient Oromo thanksgiving festival has become the unlikely centerpiece of Ethiopia’s most ambitious political project: building a nation where dialogue replaces division, and where the discipline of reconciliation practiced at the water’s edge becomes the model for governance itself.

FINFINNE — The theme says it all: “Irreechaa: For National Consensus!”

As hundreds of thousands gathered at Hora Finfinnee in Addis Ababa this weekend, dressed in white and carrying fresh green grass and yellow Adey Abeba flowers, the traditional rituals of thanksgiving took on a meaning that extends far beyond the Oromo community. In a nation that has spent years navigating deep political and ethnic divisions, the 2026 Irreechaa has become a powerful symbol of a broader national journey — one that seeks to transform conflict into consensus, and grievance into gratitude.


A Festival With a Mission

The Irreechaa Forum, held annually in Addis Ababa ahead of the main celebrations, set the tone for this year’s observance. Under the theme “Irreechaa: For National Consensus,” the forum highlighted the festival’s values of unity, togetherness, forgiveness, and reconciliation — and explicitly connected these values to the national conversation about Ethiopia’s future.

Addis Ababa Mayor Adanech Abiebie, speaking at the forum, emphasized that Irreechaa “promotes unity, togetherness, forgiveness, and reconciliation, and carries great value for national understanding”. The mayor’s words were not merely ceremonial. They reflected a deliberate effort to position Irreechaa not just as a cultural celebration for the Oromo people, but as a national resource — a living tradition whose spiritual disciplines might offer a model for how Ethiopians can learn to live together again.

The 2026 celebrations, held on October 3 and 4, brought together Abbaa Gadaas (traditional Oromo leaders), Haadha Sinqees (women entrusted with moral order), elders, youth, and guests from across Ethiopia and beyond. At Hora Finfinnee in the heart of the capital and Hora Arsadi in Bishoftu, the sea of white garments and the sound of traditional chants created what one observer described as a “spectacle of color, culture, and togetherness”.


The Prerequisite of Peace

What makes Irreechaa unusual — and what makes its 2026 theme so resonant — is that reconciliation is not merely a value the festival celebrates. It is a requirement for participation.

Before attending Irreechaa, participants are expected to reconcile with themselves and with others, setting aside grudges, anger, and resentment. The festival’s essence as a gathering of peace and reconciliation depends on this prior work of the spirit. You cannot approach the sacred waters carrying a grievance. You cannot give thanks while your heart remains at war.

This discipline — the deliberate, conscious setting aside of conflict before approaching the sacred — is precisely what Ethiopia’s National Dialogue process has sought to institutionalize at the national level. And the timing of this year’s Irreechaa is no coincidence.


A National Dialogue Concludes, a Festival Begins

Just weeks before millions gathered at Hora Finfinnee, Ethiopia reached a historic milestone: the conclusion of its National Dialogue Conference in Addis Ababa.

The dialogue, which formally opened on July 15, 2026, brought together more than 4,000 delegates from across the country — representatives of civil society, religious groups, youth, women, and historically marginalized communities. Over 46 days of deliberations, participants undertook extensive discussions on foundational pillars of state-building, national identity, social cohesion, and the structure and form of government.

The National Dialogue Commission had spent years conducting grassroots consultations, engaging Ethiopians at home and abroad, and identifying eight core agenda pillars that reflected priorities raised during these discussions. The process was built on a deliberate departure from past political gatherings dominated by urban elites — a grassroots approach that sought to give voice to communities that had long been excluded from national conversations.

At the closing ceremony, former Nigerian President Olusegun Obasanjo delivered a keynote address in which he described Ethiopia’s national dialogue as “a historic achievement and an example for the rest of Africa.” He stressed that peace must be “comprehensive, inclusive, and complete” if it is to be sustainable, and expressed confidence that a “peaceful, secure, stable, predictable, and united Ethiopia” could double its GDP within seven years and emerge as Africa’s largest economy.

The message was clear: Ethiopia has chosen dialogue over division, consensus over conflict. And now, Irreechaa 2026 arrives to reinforce that choice.


The Prime Minister’s Message

Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed, in his Irreechaa message, drew explicit parallels between the festival’s spiritual disciplines and the nation’s political journey.

Speaking under the theme “Irreechaa is Peace! Gada is Civilization! Ethiopia’s Civilization is Inevitable!”, the Prime Minister congratulated citizens on “safely passing through the difficult rainy season and entering a period of hope.” He described how, as the winter darkness clears, the Oromo people gather at the river for traditional thanksgiving rituals — fathers reciting “Marehoo” and mothers reciting “Araaroo” — offering gratitude to the Creator.

But Abiy went further. He drew a direct comparison between the heavy rains, floods, and restricted movement of the winter season and Ethiopia’s “long-standing economic, political, and administrative struggles.” Just as the rains must eventually end and the sun must eventually return, so too must Ethiopia’s period of difficulty give way to a season of renewal.

The Prime Minister also cited an Oromo proverb — “the house where one sleeps is better than the one where one merely spends the evening” — in a call for armed groups to choose stability over uncertainty and peace over prolonged conflict. He reaffirmed the government’s commitment to peace and national consensus, urging all Ethiopians to “embrace the core values of Irreechaa — peace, reconciliation, forgiveness, and brotherhood — with the aim of strengthening unity and advancing the nation’s path toward lasting prosperity”.


The Symbolism of Water and Grass

At the heart of Irreechaa are materials that carry profound meaning: water, grass, and flowers.

Participants arrive carrying fresh green grass and bright yellow Adey Abeba, the seasonal flower associated with the Ethiopian spring. They dip the grass into the sacred waters, sprinkle droplets over themselves and others, and place grass and flowers along the shoreline. Over the course of the celebration, thousands of individual offerings gather along the water’s edge, forming a temporary green-and-yellow border that transforms the landscape.

As one participant, Guddissa Geda, who traveled from Sululta to celebrate at Hora Finfinnee, explained: “The movement of grass to water creates a connection between community practice and the landscape, embodying reconciliation, love, unity, and the relationship between people and nature”.

This ritual act — the dipping of grass into water — is not decorative. It is the physical embodiment of the festival’s spiritual logic. Water is the source of purity and the foundation of creation in Oromo cosmology. Grass is the symbol of fertility and renewal. To dip the grass into the water is to enact, in miniature, the reconciliation between the human and the divine, between the community and the earth, between the past and the future.

At a moment when Ethiopia seeks to reconcile its own divisions, the symbolism is unmistakable.


The Gadaa System and National Renewal

Irreechaa is inseparable from the Gadaa system, the traditional Oromo socio-political system recognized by UNESCO as an Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity. The Gadaa system organizes society by age grades, each with defined responsibilities and transition periods, and encompasses customary law, environmental knowledge, and mechanisms for conflict resolution.

Prime Minister Abiy’s Irreechaa message emphasized the importance of the Gadaa system to Ethiopia’s national renewal. He cited “the restoration and institutionalization of Hora Finfinnee Irreechaa to its river site and the grand gatherings at Hora Harsadi in Bishoftu” as proof that “long-standing cultural questions regarding language and heritage have been fully answered”.

The return of Irreechaa to Hora Finfinnee — the sacred site in the heart of Addis Ababa from which the capital takes its Oromo name — is itself a powerful act of reclamation. For decades, public celebrations of Irreechaa at this site were suppressed. The Oromo people were denied the right to gather at their own sacred waters. The restoration of the festival to its ancestral site is, in the words of one analysis, “a powerful reclamation of space, identity, and dignity”.

But the Gadaa system offers more than historical symbolism. Its principles — Safuu (moral order), customary courts, community service, and environmental stewardship — represent an indigenous Ethiopian framework for governance and social organization that predates modern political structures. As Ethiopia seeks to build a system that draws on its own traditions while meeting contemporary challenges, the Gadaa system offers a model that is both authentically Ethiopian and profoundly relevant.


The Youth and the Future

One of the most striking features of this year’s Irreechaa was the prominent role of young people — not merely as participants but as organizers, protectors, and transmitters of tradition.

Nega Wodajo, deputy commissioner of the Oromia Tourism Bureau, explained that preparations for Irreechaa begin well before the main celebration days, with young people taking part in cultural performances, community projects, and activities marking the transition into the New Year. “The youth are taking responsibility by protecting their environment, promoting their culture and creating good relations among themselves,” Nega said. “The country belongs to the youth”.

This participation is not incidental. It is the mechanism by which tradition survives. Irreechaa is transmitted through participation — through the physical act of dipping grass into water, through the sound of chants rising at sunrise, through the experience of standing in a sea of white garments at the water’s edge. Young people who participate in Irreechaa today will carry its values into the future.

And those values — reconciliation, gratitude, unity, peace — are precisely what Ethiopia needs as it seeks to build a nation where consensus replaces conflict.


A Festival That Belongs to All

While deeply rooted in Oromo tradition, Irreechaa has increasingly become a national celebration embraced by Ethiopians of all backgrounds. This year’s gathering at Hora Finfinnee drew participants from across the country — from Oromia, from other regions, from the diaspora, and from the international community.

The festival has also attracted growing international attention. Visitors from across the globe come to witness its authenticity, the beauty of its traditions, and the collective joy of its people. Alongside iconic Ethiopian treasures such as Timket and Lalibela’s rock-hewn churches, Irreechaa showcases Ethiopia’s unique blend of cultural richness and natural wonder, offering the world an inspiring vision of harmony, heritage, and hope.

In a world that so often profits from division, Irreechaa offers a different model: a celebration that brings people together not despite their differences but because of the shared humanity that lies beneath them.


The Consensus That Begins at the Water

As the 2026 Irreechaa celebrations concluded peacefully at Hora Finfinnee, Mayor Adanech Abiebie offered a closing message that captured the spirit of the occasion: “Irreecha for National Consensus! Irreecha for Peace and Unity!”

The theme of this year’s festival is not just a slogan. It is a charge — a call to action that extends far beyond the shores of sacred waters.

The National Dialogue has concluded. Its recommendations have been presented. The hard work of implementation lies ahead. But the spiritual foundation for that work has been laid — not in conference halls or parliamentary chambers, but at the water’s edge, where millions of Ethiopians have practiced, for thousands of years, the disciplines of reconciliation, gratitude, and unity.

Irreechaa teaches that consensus is not merely a political outcome. It is a spiritual discipline. It is the deliberate act of setting aside grievance, of choosing relationship over righteousness, of approaching the sacred with open hands and a reconciled heart.

If Ethiopia can carry that discipline from the water’s edge into its institutions, its communities, and its politics, then the theme of Irreechaa 2026 will have been more than words.

It will have been a prophecy fulfilled.


Baga Irreechaa nagaan geessan.

May the Irreechaa arrive in peace. May the consensus it inspires endure.

Irreechaa: The Festival That Believes in the Beauty of the Human Soul

Every year, millions gather at the water’s edge to give thanks, seek forgiveness, and welcome a season of light. But the deeper story of Irreechaa is not only about a harvest or a river — it is about what humanity can become.


A Morning at the River

As the first light of Birraa — the Ethiopian spring — spills across the horizon, the banks of the Bishoftu lakes and the Awash River begin to fill. Elders in white näts’äla wraps arrive carrying bundles of fresh grass and yellow adey abeba flowers. Mothers lead daughters by the hand. Young men sing songs their grandfathers sang before them. The air smells of rain, wet earth, and gratitude.

This is Irreechaa, the great Thanksgiving festival of the Oromo people, celebrated at the end of the rainy season and the beginning of the harvest. To outsiders, it can look like a single day of celebration. To those who carry it in their blood, it is a whole philosophy of life — a yearly reminder of what it means to be human.

And at the heart of that philosophy lies a striking conviction: that the human soul is meant to be beautiful, and that beauty is not a luxury — it is a duty.


Thanksgiving as a Way of Seeing

Irreechaa begins with galata — thanksgiving. But this is not the polite gratitude of a hurried prayer. It is gratitude as a lens through which the entire world is viewed.

The Oromo elders say that the person who cannot give thanks cannot truly see. When you thank the earth for its harvest, you begin to notice the earth. When you thank the rain for falling, you begin to honor the rain. Thanksgiving, in this tradition, is the first act of a beautiful soul — the recognition that life is a gift received, not a possession earned.

At Irreechaa, gratitude is offered for the harvest, for health, for children, for peace, for the return of the rains. But it is also offered for things unseen: for forgiveness granted, for conflicts resolved, for another year of life. In a world addicted to complaint, Irreechaa stands as a radical act of remembering the good.


The Work of Restoration and Forgiveness

But Irreechaa is not naive. Its joy is not the joy of those who pretend nothing is broken. It is the joy of those who have done the harder work first.

Before the celebration comes reconciliation. In the weeks leading up to Irreechaa, families settle disputes. Neighbors ask forgiveness. Debts of the heart are repaid. The festival cannot be entered with a grudge in the chest; tradition holds that the one who carries bitterness to the riverbank carries it alone.

This is where Irreechaa’s belief in beautiful souls becomes most demanding. A beautiful soul is not a flawless soul — it is a soul willing to be restored. Forgiveness here flows in two directions: the courage to ask, and the generosity to grant. Restoration is not merely the repair of what was broken; it is the creation of something stronger than what existed before.

In a time when division is profitable and resentment is addictive, Irreechaa whispers another way: you do not have to stay wounded.


Love, Harmony, and the Living World

Standing at the water’s edge, the Oromo faithful do not see nature as a backdrop. They see a relative.

The river is not a resource; it is a mother. The tree is not timber; it is a witness. The land is not property; it is an ancestor. This is why Irreechaa is celebrated near water — because water is the clearest sign of life’s interdependence. What happens to the river happens to the people.

This harmony with nature is not sentimentality. It is a moral claim: you cannot love people while abusing the world they live in. The same soul that forgives a neighbor must also protect the forest. The same heart that gives thanks for the harvest must refuse to poison the soil that produced it.

Irreechaa thus offers a vision of humanity that is ecological at its core — not because it is fashionable, but because it is ancient. To respect nature is to respect the Creator, the ancestors, and the children not yet born. It is to understand that renewal and regeneration are not just human projects; they are the rhythm of the whole living world.


Remembering the Ancestors

No Irreechaa is complete without remembrance.

Elders speak the names of those who have passed. Libations are poured. The generations stand together in one long chain, and the living are reminded that they did not invent themselves. They are the continuation of a story.

Remembering ancestors is not nostalgia. It is accountability. It asks: What did they hand to us, and what will we hand forward? A beautiful soul, in this tradition, is one that knows it is a link, not an island.

This remembrance also gives Irreechaa its famous hope: the bright season over the dark. The rainy months of scarcity and confinement give way to harvest, color, and gathering. Darkness is not denied — it is acknowledged, survived, and then overcome. Every year, the festival reenacts the truth that winter does not have the final word.


Renewal and the Regeneration of Humanity

At its deepest level, Irreechaa is about renewal — not just of the fields, but of the person.

The waters of the lake are a symbol of cleansing. The green grass is a symbol of new life. The yellow flower that blooms at the season’s turn is a symbol of hope that appears precisely when the old season ends. The festival asks each participant: What in you needs to be renewed this year?

And the answer it offers is a whole program for the human family: a kind heart, a good spirit, right relationships with people and with nature, respect for life, love as practice, harmony as goal. These are not abstract virtues. They are the daily disciplines of a soul that has decided to be beautiful.

The regeneration of humanity, Irreechaa insists, does not begin in parliaments or palaces. It begins in the heart that chooses gratitude over greed, forgiveness over revenge, and harmony over domination.


A Festival That Believes in Us

In the end, Irreechaa is not merely a celebration of a harvest. It is a declaration of faith in the human soul.

It believes that people can be kind. It believes that old wounds can heal. It believes that the earth can be honored and the ancestors remembered. It believes that light follows dark, that love is stronger than hatred, and that a good spirit is not a weakness but the highest form of strength.

To stand at the river at Irreechaa is to be told, by a tradition older than any empire: You were made for beauty. Live like it.

And perhaps that is the festival’s greatest gift to a fractured world — not just a day of thanksgiving, but a lifelong invitation to become the beautiful soul that Irreechaa has always believed we could be.

Happy Irreechaa! May your season be bright.