Category Archives: Kindness
16 Years of Advocacy for Oromia, 16 Years of Impact

Marking a Milestone of Dedication, Resilience and Progress
For 16 years, the cause of Oromia has been carried forward with unwavering commitment — through advocacy, community engagement and a steadfast belief in justice, dignity and development for the Oromo people. Today, we mark 16 years of advocacy and 16 years of impact.
What began as a shared vision among a dedicated few has grown into a sustained movement built on perseverance, solidarity and the collective voice of a community determined to be heard. Over these 16 years, advocacy for Oromia has taken many forms — raising awareness, amplifying community concerns, fostering dialogue, and championing the rights and aspirations of the Oromo people both at home and in the diaspora.
The impact of this work is reflected not only in the milestones achieved, but in the lives touched, the voices empowered and the awareness built across communities. Each year has brought new challenges, and each challenge has been met with renewed resolve. Through it all, the commitment to Oromia’s future has remained constant.
This milestone belongs to everyone who has contributed to the journey — the advocates, the community members, the partners and the supporters who have stood together over the years. Your dedication has made a difference, and your efforts continue to shape a brighter path forward.
As we celebrate 16 years of advocacy and 16 years of impact, we look ahead with hope and determination. The work continues, and so does the vision of a prosperous, peaceful and dignified Oromia.
Here’s to 16 years of dedication — and to the many years of impact still to come.
16 Years of Advocacy for Oromia. 16 Years of Impact.
Celebrating 75 Years of Impact: AMES Australia Honors a Legacy of Building New Lives

For 75 years, AMES Australia has been a cornerstone of the nation’s multicultural success, and last night, community leaders, politicians, and advocates gathered to celebrate a remarkable milestone.
Under the glowing banner of “75 Years of AMES Australia, 75 Years of impact,” attendees reflected on the transformative power of support, training, and opportunity. The celebration highlighted the absolutely incredible stories and achievements of refugees and migrants who have successfully built their new lives in Australia.
The event underscored why Australia’s multiculturalism remains so successful and vibrant. It is the result of dedicated organizations like AMES providing vital services—from settlement and employment assistance to English language training and ongoing support. These foundational pillars have helped nearly one million clients transition into their new communities and thrive.
The anniversary was a moment to honor the visionaries and hard workers behind the organization’s success. Special congratulations were extended to Melinda Collinson (GAICD), Vanda Fortunato (PhD, FAICD), the current and former AMES Board members and CEOs, and the entire AMES Australia team.
The celebration also brought together notable figures, including Laura Lo Bianco-Smith, Matt Carrick, Lee Tarlamis OAM MP, and Meena Naidu (GAICD), who gathered to recognize the profound #Impact that skills and education (#Skills) have had on the state of Victoria (#Victoria) over the decades.
As AMES Australia marks 75 years of making a difference, the evening served as both a powerful retrospective of past achievements and a hopeful look toward the future, continuing its mission of empowering individuals and strengthening the fabric of Australian society.
Celebrating Our Community This Mashujaa Day

Honouring the Heroes Among Us
Mashujaa Day is a time to reflect on the spirit of heroism that lives within our communities — not only in the historic figures who shaped our nation, but in the everyday people whose quiet dedication, sacrifice and resilience hold us together.
This Mashujaa Day, we celebrate our community and the many heroes who walk among us: the parents working tirelessly for their families, the volunteers who give their time without hesitation, the neighbours who lend a hand in times of need, and the young people striving to build a better future.
Heroism is not always loud. Often, it is found in small acts of kindness, in perseverance through hardship, and in the commitment to lift others as we rise.
Today, we honour every member of our community who contributes to making it stronger, kinder and more united. Your efforts do not go unnoticed, and your spirit inspires us all.
Join us in celebrating our community — because the true heroes of our nation are the people who make it what it is, every single day.
#MashujaaDay #CelebratingOurCommunity #HeroesAmongUs
IYYANNAA MAATII: BARBAACHAA ILMA ISAANII ELIYAAS WADAJOO FIDAA WAGGOTA 30F

Abdiin Maatii Hin Citu: Barbaachaan Eliyaas Waggoota Soddoma Booddees Itti Fufe
Oromiyaa, Godina Wallaggaa Lixaa, Aanaa Boojjii Coqorsaa, Ganda Fiigaa Koobbaraa 01 keessatti dhalatee guddate Eliyaas Wadajoo Fidaa, maatiin isaa waggoota soddomaa ol erga adda ba’anii abdii isaanii hin kutanne.
Eliyaas barnoota sadarkaa 1ffaa fi giddugaleessaa Mana Barumsaa Fiigaa Koobbaraatti barate; barnoota sadarkaa 2ffaa immoo Boojjii Dirmajiitti xumure. Bakkaa fi bara sirriitti isaa adda baafnee yaadachuu baannus, kolleejjii irraa eebbifamee naannoo sanatti barsiisaa ta’ee hojjechaa ture. Akkasumas hojii daldalaatiin bobba’ee jiraachaa ture.
Yeroo naannoo sanaa irraa fagaatetti dargaggeessa, nama gaa’ila hin qabne ture. Garuu, waggoota gara 30 dura, sababa sirriitti hin beekamneen naannoo dhaloota isaa irraa erga deeme kaasee, hanga har’aatti bakka inni jiru maatiin isaa hin beekan.
IYYANNAA MAATII
Waggoota dheeraaf maatiin Eliyaas isa barbaadaa jiru. Abbaanii fi haati isaa, akkasumas maatiin isaa guutuun, bakka inni jiru, haala jireenyaa isaa fi nageenya isaa beekuu hawwu. Yoomiyyuu abdii osoo hin kutatin, odeeffannoo waa’eesaa kamiyyuu dhaga’uu hawwu. Waaqayyo hin godhin malee yoo rakkoon addaa isa mudatee jiraate illee, maatiin isaa hirmii baafatanii garaa kutachuu barbaadu.
AKKATAA GARGAARSAA
Namooti kabajamoo, ergaa kana dubbisaa jirtan hundi:
- Yoo Eliyaas Wadajoo Fidaa beektan, yookaan waa’ee isaa odeeffannoo qabaattan, maaloo nuuf qoodaa.
- Yoo namoota isa beekan arguu dandeessan, ergaa kana isaan biraan ga’aa.
- Yoo odeeffannoo isaa hin qabne, maaloo ergaa kana SHARE gochuun namoota hedduu bira akka ga’u nu gargaaraa.
Odeeffannoo xiqqoon isin qabdan nama waggoota dheeraaf maatiin isaa barbaadaa jiran kana argamsiisuu danda’a. Ergaan isin qooddan tokko maatii fi ilma isaanii waggoota hedduuf addaan ba’an walitti fiduu keessatti gahee guddaa qabaachuu danda’a.
ELIYAASIIF ERGAA:
Eliyaas, yoo ergaa kana argite, maatiin kee si barbaadaa jiru. Maaloo nageenya kee beeksisi!
ODEEFFANNOOF QUNNAMTII
Namni odeeffannoo waa’ee Eliyaas qabu kamiyyuu, maaloo lakkoofsa bilbilaa armaan gadii irratti nu qunnamaa:
+251 920419911
+251 945322544
+251 932920632
+251 917928869
ERGAA KANA SHARE GODHAA—MAATII WALITTI FIDUU KEESSATTI GARGAARAA
Waaqayyo nama kana haa eegu; maatii isaas haa gammachiisu!
ULFAADHAA!!
Family’s 30-Year Search for Missing Son Eliyaas Wadaajoo Fidaa

A Family’s Unwavering Hope: The Search for Eliyaas Continues After Three Decades
In the heart of Oromia, in West Wollega Zone, Bojji Chokorsa District, a family continues to hold onto hope after nearly 30 years of separation from their beloved son, Eliyaas Wadaajoo Fidaa.
Born and raised in Fiigaa Kobara Village, Kebele 01, Eliyaas completed his primary and secondary education at Fiigaa Kobara and Bojji Dirmaji schools respectively. Though the exact dates remain unclear, it is known that he graduated from college and worked as a teacher in the area before eventually venturing into business.
At the time he left his home region, Eliyaas was a young, unmarried man. However, for reasons that remain unknown, he departed from his birthplace approximately 30 years ago—and since that day, his family has had no knowledge of his whereabouts.
A Family’s Plea
For decades, Eliyaas’s family has been searching for him. His father and mother, along with his entire family, long to know where he is, how he is living, and whether he is safe. They have never given up hope, holding onto the possibility that they might one day hear news of him. Even if he has faced hardships, his family wants him to know they are waiting to embrace him with open arms.
How You Can Help
This is a heartfelt appeal to all who read this message:
- If you know Eliyaas Wadaajoo Fidaa or have any information about him, please share it with the family.
- If you know people who might recognize him, please pass this message along.
- If you have no information, please SHARE this message to help it reach as many people as possible.
Even the smallest piece of information could reunite a family that has been waiting for decades. One share could play a significant role in bringing together a family and a son who have been separated for far too long.
A Message to Eliyaas
Eliyaas, if you see this message, your family is searching for you. Please let them know you are safe.
Contact Information
Anyone with information about Eliyaas is kindly asked to reach out through the following numbers:
+251 920419911
+251 945322544
+251 932920632
+251 917928869
Share This Message—Help Reunite a Family
May God protect Eliyaas and bring joy to his family.
ULFAADHAA!!
Dr. & Dr.: A Celebration of Love, Perseverance, and Two Doctoral Degrees

Congratulations to Haimanot Ewnetu and Nege GN Sindibin on an Extraordinary Achievement
There are milestones in life that deserve more than a passing congratulations. There are moments that call for reflection, for celebration, and for acknowledging the sheer weight of what has been accomplished. Today is one of those moments.
Today, Haimanot Ewnetu and Nege GN Sindibin graduate with their PhDs — together.
Not one doctorate. Two. Earned not in isolation, but side by side, through years of shared sacrifice, mutual encouragement, and a partnership strong enough to weather the most demanding academic journey one can undertake.
The Weight of a Doctorate
A PhD is not simply a degree. It is a test of endurance, of intellect, of patience, and of character. It demands years of rigorous research, countless revisions, long nights spent wrestling with questions that refuse easy answers. It asks for sacrifice — time with family, moments of rest, the simple luxury of certainty.
Many begin this journey. Not all finish it.
To complete a PhD is to prove something profound: that you can push the boundaries of human knowledge, that you can persist when the path is unclear, and that you can emerge on the other side not just with a title, but with a transformation.
To complete a PhD while supporting someone else through theirs — to share the burden, to celebrate each other’s wins, to hold each other up when the weight felt unbearable — that is something rarer still.
A Partnership Forged in Perseverance
Haimanot and Nege, you did not simply pursue degrees in parallel. You built something together.
You shared the quiet victories — the accepted paper, the successful defense, the moment a difficult chapter finally made sense. You shared the hard days too — the rejections, the revisions, the moments when the finish line seemed impossibly far away. And through it all, you remained each other’s greatest supporter.
That is what makes today so remarkable. This is not just a celebration of academic achievement. It is a celebration of what two people can accomplish when they refuse to let go of each other’s hands.
Years of hard work. Years of dedication. Years of choosing, again and again, to keep going — together.
And now, here you are. Dr. Haimanot Ewnetu and Dr. Nege GN Sindibin.
A Moment Worth Celebrating
Today, we celebrate not only the degrees you have earned, but the people you have become in the process. We celebrate your brilliance, your resilience, and your unwavering commitment to your goals.
We celebrate the families and friends who stood beside you, the mentors who guided you, and the community that cheered you on.
But most of all, we celebrate you — two extraordinary individuals who proved that the hardest journeys are made easier when walked side by side.
So proud of you both. So happy we could celebrate with you.
Here’s to the years of hard work behind you, the bright future ahead, and the knowledge that you did it — together.
Congratulations, Doctors! 🎓🎉👏

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.

From Kenya with Love: Our Brothers and Sisters Who Journeyed Home for Irreecha Bishooftuu 2026

By Dhabessa Wakjira
HARSADII, OROMIA — The morning sun had barely touched the shores of Lake Harsadii when the first buses rolled in from the south. Dust rose from the unpaved roads, horns blared in celebration, and the unmistakable rhythm of drums began to echo across the water. Among the thousands gathered for Irreecha Bishooftuu 2026, a special group stood out — not because of their dress or their language, but because of the distance they had traveled to be here.
They came from Kenya.
“Kunneen firoottan keenya Keeniyaa: Irreecha Bishooftuu, Harsadii (2026) irratti hirmaatanii dha,” the announcement rang out across the grounds — “These are our brothers and sisters from Kenya who have come to participate in Irreecha Bishooftuu, Harsadii 2026.” The words were met with thunderous applause, ululations, and the waving of green flags that stretched as far as the eye could see.
For the Oromo community in Kenya, the journey to Irreecha is more than a trip. It is a homecoming.
A Bond That Crosses Borders
Irreecha is the great thanksgiving festival of the Oromo people — a celebration of the end of the rainy season, a moment to give thanks to Waaqa (God) for peace, fertility, and the bounty of the earth. Held along the shores of lakes and rivers, it draws millions of Oromo from Ethiopia and across the globe. But the Oromo nation does not end at Ethiopia’s borders. In Kenya, Oromo communities have lived for generations, preserving their language, their customs, and their faith.
This year, that connection was on full display at Harsadii.
“We have always known we are one people,” said one elder from Kenya, his voice thick with emotion as he stood near the water’s edge. “But to stand here, on this soil, with our brothers and sisters — it is something else. It is a healing.”
The delegation from Kenya arrived in colorful traditional attire, carrying green branches and singing songs passed down through generations. They joined the procession to the lake, participated in the rituals of thanksgiving, and shared in the communal feast that followed. For many, it was their first time experiencing Irreecha on Ethiopian soil — and for some, it was a return to the land of their ancestors.

A Celebration of Unity
The presence of the Kenyan delegation was a powerful reminder that Irreecha is not just an Ethiopian festival. It is an Oromo festival — and the Oromo are one people, bound by language, history, and a shared love for their land and their Creator.
Organizers of this year’s Irreecha Bishooftuu emphasized the significance of the Kenyan participation. “Irreecha is a celebration of peace and unity,” one organizer said. “When our brothers and sisters from Kenya join us, it shows the world that we are strong together. It shows that our culture knows no borders.”
Throughout the day, the Kenyan visitors were welcomed with open arms. Elders exchanged blessings. Young people danced together, their feet moving to the same beat. Women shared stories and laughter. And as the sun set over Harsadii, the crowd stood as one, raising their hands in thanksgiving.

A Message of Hope
For the Oromo in Kenya, the journey to Irreecha is also a statement — a declaration that they remain connected to their roots, their identity, and their people. In a world where borders often divide, Irreecha serves as a bridge.
“We are here to show our children where they come from,” said a Kenyan mother, her daughter clutching her hand. “We are here to teach them that they belong. That they are Oromo. That they are home.”
As the celebration drew to a close, the words of the announcement echoed in the hearts of all who heard them: “Kunneen firoottan keenya Keeniyaa.” These are our brothers and sisters from Kenya. And they came home.
Happy Irreecha Bishooftuu 2026. May peace, unity, and blessings be upon us all.

Irreechaa: The Power of Oromia Has Arrived — This Year’s and Forever

In a passionate reflection on the 2019 E.C. Irreechaa celebration at Hora Finfinnee, one voice captures what millions felt: a festival that is not merely thanksgiving but the very power of a people — their unity, their identity, their unbreakable spirit.
“Irreechaa is IRREE — the POWER of Oromia. And it has arrived. This year’s. And forever.”
A Voice from the Water’s Edge
There are testimonies that transcend reporting. They are not journalism, not analysis, not commentary. They are witness — the raw, unfiltered voice of someone who was there, who saw, who felt, who was changed.
What follows is such a testimony. Shared in the aftermath of the 2019 E.C. Irreechaa celebration at Hora Finfinnee, it is a reflection on what Irreechaa means — not in theory, but in lived experience. Not as a cultural artifact, but as a living force.
The author writes not as a detached observer but as a participant, a beneficiary, a son of Oromia who found in Irreechaa something he had been searching for his entire life.
This is his testimony.
“Irreechaa — The Power of Oromia! We Have Arrived!”
The message begins with a declaration — not a greeting, not a description, but a proclamation:
“Irree/Humna Oromoo! Baga geenye! Kan baranaa-kan bara egeree!!!!!”
“Irree — the Power of Oromia! We have arrived! This year’s — and forever’s!!!!!”
This is the language of victory. Not victory over an enemy, but victory over erasure. Victory over silence. Victory over the forces that sought to sever a people from their sacred traditions.
The author continues:
“Irreecha Bara kanaa kan Hora Finfinnee Irreeffannee Ofkolleerra! Galata Waaqaa!”
“This year’s Irreechaa at Hora Finfinnee — we celebrated it and we found ourselves! Thanks be to Waaqa!”
Ofkolleerra — “we found ourselves.” This is the heart of the testimony. Irreechaa is not just a festival one attends. It is a place where a people rediscover who they are. At the sacred waters of Hora Finfinnee, in the heart of what is now Addis Ababa, the Oromo people reclaimed not just a celebration but their own identity.
“Galata warra waan kana asiin gahaniif, warra kanaaf gumaachan hundumaaf!!!!!”
“Thanks to all who made this possible, to all who sacrificed for this!!!!!”
Gratitude extends in every direction — to Waaqa, to the ancestors, to those who struggled and sacrificed so that Irreechaa could be celebrated freely at its ancestral site.
A Teacher’s Prophecy
The testimony then turns to memory — a story from a classroom, years ago:
“Gaafan kutaa 9 baradhu — waggaa 26n har’aa dura, bariisaan Seenaa tokko, barsiisaa Tameen, ‘Yoo ofbaruu feetani Irreeessa Hora Harsadii dhaqaa; Waldaa Maaccaa fi Tuulamaa dhaqaa’ nuun jedhu ture!”
“When I was in Grade 9 — 26 years ago — a History teacher, Teacher Tame, used to tell us: ‘If you want to know yourselves, go to Irreechaa at Hora Arsadi; go to the Maaccaa and Tuulama assemblies!'”
Twenty-six years ago, in a classroom in Oromia, a teacher planted a seed. He told his students that if they wanted to understand who they were, they needed to go to Irreechaa. They needed to go to the traditional assemblies. They needed to encounter their own culture, their own history, their own people.
That teacher understood something profound: identity is not taught in textbooks alone. It is experienced. It is felt. It is lived in community, at sacred sites, in rituals that stretch back thousands of years.
And now, twenty-six years later, his student testifies:
“Dhuguma waan Oromoo fi Oromummaa baay’eesaa bakka tokkotti dubbatu waraabamees dubbatamees hindhumnetu Irreeessan ifa: Gootummaa, jaalala, Huyyummaa, Safuu, Tokkummaa, xiiqii, Miidhagina, Walqixxummaa, Abdii, …”
“Truly, what speaks of Oromia and Oromummaa in one place — written and spoken — is nowhere else but Irreechaa: Heroism, love, abundance, Safuu (moral order), unity, excitement, beauty, equality, hope, …”
This is the curriculum of Irreechaa. Not subjects to be studied, but virtues to be embodied. At the water’s edge, the Oromo people do not learn about heroism — they become heroes. They do not study love — they practice it. They do not read about unity — they experience it.
“Anis isan hanga har’aa DHEEBOTAA turef argadheen LAMMATA dhaladhera!”
“I, too, found what I had been searching for until today — and I was born twice!”
LAMMATA dhaladhera — “I was born twice.” This is the language of conversion, of transformation, of rebirth. Irreechaa is not just an event one attends. It is an experience that changes you. The author came to Irreechaa searching. He left reborn.
“Waan ofii argachuu maaltu namaaf gaharee? Galaana Gammachuu daakeen quufaa oole!”
“What is greater than finding oneself? I have been satisfied by an ocean of joy!”
There is no greater gift, the author suggests, than self-discovery. And Irreechaa, for the Oromo people, is the place where that discovery happens. It is an ocean of joy — galaana gammachuu — that satisfies the deepest human longing.
The Grief of Loss and the Joy of Return
The testimony then takes a poignant turn — a memory of what was lost:
“‘EE AADAAN BADDE GALTE…’ kanammoo bara Yuunivarsiitii Gondaritti Irreeffanne waggaa 20n dura ittiin weedifne.”
“‘Oh, culture, you are lost…’ — that was the song we sang when we celebrated Irreechaa 20 years ago at Gondar University.”
Twenty years ago, Irreechaa was celebrated in exile — far from the sacred waters, far from the ancestral sites, in a university far from home. The song they sang was a lament: “Oh, culture, you are lost.”
It was a cry of grief. A recognition that something precious had been taken. A people separated from their sacred traditions, forced to celebrate in foreign places, singing songs of loss.
But now — now the tone has changed. The same people who sang “culture is lost” are now singing “we have arrived.” The same people who celebrated in exile are now celebrating at Hora Finfinnee. The same people who mourned are now rejoicing.
This is the arc of the Oromo story. Grief transformed into joy. Exile transformed into return. Loss transformed into reclamation.
Irreechaa as the Power of Existence
The testimony then expands into a philosophical reflection on the nature of power and existence:
“Irreechi IRREE/HUMNA Oromooti!”
“Irreechaa is the IRREE — the POWER — of Oromia!”
This is the central claim. Irreechaa is not just a festival. It is power. It is the force that holds a people together, that sustains them through hardship, that enables them to survive and thrive in a world that often seeks their destruction.
The author continues:
“Eeyyeen, Dhimmi ijoon addunyaa lubbuu qabeeyyii tokko dhimma JIRAACHUUti.”
“Yes, the fundamental issue for all living beings in the world is the matter of EXISTENCE.”
This is the philosophical foundation. Before anything else — before politics, before economics, before culture — there is the question of existence. Will we survive? Will we continue? Will we be here tomorrow?
“Addunyaa dorgommii fi butee/kuffisee darbaa kana keessatti kuun jiraachuuf kuunimmoo daangaa darbee kaan dhaalee/balleessee dhuunfachuuf kaata.”
“In this world of competition and struggle, some strive to live, while others seek to cross boundaries, destroy others, and possess exclusively.”
The world is divided, the author observes. There are those who seek simply to live — to exist, to survive, to thrive in peace. And there are those who seek to dominate — to cross boundaries, to destroy others, to possess what is not theirs.
“Kan madaalaan jiraachuuf jedhus kan daangaa darbuun dhaalee ofittummaan jiraachuu fedhus mala ittisaa fi mala irra aanu garagaraa fayyadamu.”
“Those who seek to live in balance and those who seek to live by crossing boundaries and possessing selfishly use different means of defense and offense.”
This is the human condition. The struggle between those who seek harmony and those who seek domination. The struggle between madaala — balance, justice, proportionality — and daangaa darbuu — boundary-crossing, transgression, domination.
“Kanneen keessa tokko, inni guddaa-guddichi HUMNA/IRREE dha.”
“Among these means, the greatest of the great is POWER — IRREE.”
Power is the fundamental currency of existence. Without power, a people cannot defend themselves. Without power, a people cannot survive. Without power, a people cannot thrive.
“Humni waan baay’ee qaba: … Tokkummaanis Humna- Isa amma Oromoon Irreechaan dhimma itti bahaa jiru kana.”
“Power has many dimensions: … And unity is power — the power that Oromia is now utilizing through Irreechaa.”
This is the insight. Irreechaa is not just a celebration of unity. It is the mechanism of unity. It is the technology by which a scattered, fragmented, oppressed people become one. And in becoming one, they become powerful.
“Irreechi dirree barnootaati, kan Abdiitis, kunneenis humna, sanuu warra BU’UURAA fi HUNDEE ta”ani.”
“Irreechaa is a field of learning, of hope, and these are power — the power of the ROOT and the FOUNDATION.”
Irreechaa is education. It is hope. It is the root and foundation of Oromo identity. And these things — learning, hope, identity — are not soft, abstract ideals. They are power. They are the force that enables a people to survive, to resist, to thrive.
“Irreechi kanaaf tikfama, kanaafiis leellifama!”
“Irreechaa is planned for this, and for this it is beloved!”
Irreechaa is not spontaneous. It is tikfama — planned, organized, intentional. It is a deliberate act of community-building. And because of this, it is leellifama — beloved, cherished, celebrated.
The Weapon of War and Peace
The testimony now turns to one of its most powerful images:
“Meeshaa LOLAA fi ARAARAA keenyadha- HAADUU QARA LAMAA!”
“It is our weapon of WAR and PEACE — a DOUBLE-EDGED SWORD!”
Irreechaa is a weapon. This is not a metaphor to be taken lightly. In a world of struggle, a people needs weapons. But Irreechaa is a unique weapon — a double-edged sword that serves both war and peace.
“Diina Oromootti gamu ni cira, waan Oromoo fi Oromummaaf tolummoo ni gabbisa!”
“It destroys what is harmful to Oromia, and it strengthens what is beneficial for Oromia and Oromummaa!”
The sword cuts both ways. It destroys the enemy — not necessarily a human enemy, but the forces that harm Oromia: division, self-hatred, cultural erasure, despair. And it strengthens the friend — the forces that benefit Oromia: unity, pride, cultural revival, hope.
Irreechaa is a weapon that heals as it cuts. It destroys what is harmful and cultivates what is beneficial. It is a sword that serves both war and peace.
The Enemy’s Strategy and Irreechaa’s Defense
The testimony then offers a profound analysis of how enemies destroy a people:
“Diinni gaafa Saba tokko nyaachuuf abbalu dura qorqalbii sabichaaf tolu kanneen akka aadaa/Galaana jiruu fi jireenyaa cabsee afaanfajjeessa, jaamaa ulee jalaa fuudhan godha, waan sabichaaf tolu xureessee itti ajeessee madda saalfii/kan itti qaanfatan godheeti kan isaa waan ajaa’ibaa fakkeessee gowwoomsa-kanaan sakaalee/gaadi’ee garboomfata/ergamtuu godhata!”
“When an enemy wants to devour a people, it first destroys the spirit of the people — it breaks their culture, their way of life, their language; it makes them blind and takes away their staff; it turns what is beneficial for the people into something harmful, a source of suffering; it makes what belongs to the people seem strange, and by deception it turns them into tools, riding them and making them serve!”
This is a devastating analysis of cultural imperialism. The enemy does not attack with weapons first. It attacks with culture. It destroys language. It breaks traditions. It blinds the people to their own heritage. It takes away their staff — their support, their foundation, their means of walking upright.
Then, having blinded them, the enemy turns what was beneficial into something harmful. It makes the people’s own culture seem strange to them. It deceives them into serving the enemy’s purposes. It rides them like animals.
This is how a people is destroyed — not by armies, but by the erasure of identity. Not by violence, but by cultural annihilation.
“Irreechi keenya kana nurraa cabsuuf/ittisuuf Dawaa/qorsa ta”an keessaa isa tokkodha. …”
“Our Irreechaa is one of the remedies/preventions against this breaking and prevention. …”
Irreechaa is the antidote. It is the medicine — dawaa — that heals the wounds of cultural erasure. It is the prevention — qorsa — that stops the enemy’s strategy before it succeeds.
When a people gathers at the sacred waters, when they sing the ancient songs, when they speak their language, when they practice their traditions, when they remember who they are — the enemy’s strategy fails. The blindness is lifted. The staff is restored. The people see again.
This is why Irreechaa is so important. It is not just a festival. It is resistance. It is survival. It is power.
The Final Proclamation
And so the testimony ends as it began — with a declaration:
“Ammas BAGA GEENYE, KAN BARANAA KAN BARA EGEREE!!!!!”
“Again, WE HAVE ARRIVED — THIS YEAR’S AND FOREVER’S!!!!!”
The repetition is intentional. This is not just a report. It is a proclamation. It is a declaration of victory. It is a statement of faith.
The Oromo people have arrived. Not just this year, but forever. Irreechaa has been celebrated. Not just at Hora Finfinnee, but in the hearts of millions. The power of Oromia has been renewed. Not just for a season, but for all time.
The Testimony of a People
This testimony — raw, passionate, unpolished — is not just one person’s reflection. It is the voice of a people.
It is the voice of those who were told their culture was lost and found it again at the water’s edge.
It is the voice of those who were taught in classrooms twenty-six years ago to seek their identity at Irreechaa — and who finally found it.
It is the voice of those who celebrated in exile, singing songs of grief, and now celebrate at home, singing songs of joy.
It is the voice of those who understand that Irreechaa is not just a festival but a weapon — a double-edged sword that destroys what harms and strengthens what heals.
It is the voice of those who know that existence itself is the fundamental struggle, and that unity is power, and that Irreechaa is the mechanism by which a scattered people become one.
It is the voice of those who have been reborn at the water’s edge and cannot stop testifying to what they have seen.
Baga Geenye — We Have Arrived
The Oromo proclamation echoes across the waters:
Baga geenye! Kan baranaa — kan bara egeree!
We have arrived! This year’s — and forever’s!
Irreechaa is the power of Oromia.
Irreechaa is the unity of a people.
Irreechaa is the weapon of war and peace.
Irreechaa is the medicine against cultural erasure.
Irreechaa is the place where a people finds itself.
Irreechaa is the ocean of joy that satisfies the deepest longing.
Irreechaa is the double-edged sword that destroys harm and cultivates good.
Irreechaa is the root and foundation of identity.
Irreechaa is the field of learning and hope.
Irreechaa is the power that enables a people to exist, to survive, to thrive.
Irreechaa is the testimony of a people who were told they were lost and found themselves at the water’s edge.
Baga geenye! Kan baranaa — kan bara egeree!
We have arrived! This year’s — and forever’s!
#Irreechaa #Oromia #IrreeHumnaOromoo #BagaGeenye #PowerOfUnity #CulturalResistance #HoraFinfinnee #Thanksgiving #Renewal
Irreechaa: The Festival That Renews Humanity Itself

In the Oromo language, ten words capture what no single English phrase can hold: Irreechaa is empowering, reconciling, unifying, peace-bringing, restorative, improving, fulfilling, refining, completing, and renewing of humanity.
Beneath the sycamore trees, beside the sacred waters, a people gather not merely to celebrate — but to become whole again.
Ten Words, One Truth
There are moments when a single sentence carries the weight of an entire civilization’s wisdom. The Oromo people have such a sentence about Irreechaa:
“Irreechaan humneessaa, lachiisaa, marabeessaa, nageessaa, damboobsaa, fooyyessaa, fufsiisaa, fineessaa, guutessaa fi haaromsaa namummaa ti.”
Translated, it means: “Irreechaa is empowering, reconciling, unifying, peace-bringing, restorative, improving, fulfilling, refining, completing, and renewing of humanity.”
This is not poetry for its own sake. It is a theological statement, a philosophical declaration, and a psychological insight — all compressed into ten carefully chosen Oromo words. Each word describes not merely what Irreechaa does, but what it is. The festival is not a symbol of these things. It is the mechanism through which they happen.
To understand Irreechaa is to understand that humanity — fractured, exhausted, divided, grieving — can be regenerated. And the Oromo people have been practicing that regeneration for thousands of years.
Humneessaa: The Empowerment
Irreechaa begins with empowerment — humneessaa.
Before the festival, participants are asked to reconcile with themselves and with others. They set aside grudges. They release resentment. This is not weakness. It is the most difficult form of strength: the strength to lay down your weapons, to open your hands, to approach the sacred water without the armor of grievance.
The Oromo understand something that modern psychology is only now catching up to: unresolved conflict is a form of imprisonment. It binds the spirit. It drains the soul. To forgive — to seek araara — is to be liberated.
At Irreechaa, the person who has reconciled is not just morally superior. They are empowered. They have reclaimed energy that was being spent on resentment. They stand at the water’s edge lighter, freer, more capable of gratitude. This is the first regeneration: the empowerment that comes from letting go.
Lachiisaa: The Reconciliation
The second word is lachiisaa — reconciliation.
This is Irreechaa’s beating heart. Without araara, the festival cannot proceed. The tradition is explicit: you cannot participate in Irreechaa while holding a grudge. The water will not receive your thanks if your heart is still at war.
In a world that profits from division — where political parties, media ecosystems, and social platforms thrive on grievance — this requirement is revolutionary. Irreechaa says: Before you celebrate, reconcile. Before you give thanks, make peace. Before you approach the sacred, heal the human relationships that have been broken.
The Oromo do not pretend that reconciliation is easy. They do not suggest that pain should be ignored or injustice forgotten. They simply insist that the work of peace must be done — deliberately, consciously, before the community gathers. This is not naive optimism. It is disciplined spiritual practice.
At Hora Arsadi, at Hora Finfinne, at watersides across Oromia, millions of people perform this practice every year. They come as individuals carrying private wounds. They leave as a community bound by shared peace.
Marabeessaa: The Unification
Marabeessaa — unification. Gathering. Coming together as one.
Irreechaa is the largest gathering of Oromo people in the world. Millions arrive from across Ethiopia, from the diaspora, from every walk of life. Farmers and professors. Mothers and students. Elders and children. Muslims and Christians and practitioners of the old faith. They dress in white — a sea of unity that visually overwhelms the eye.
But the unification is not mere numbers. It is spiritual. It is the experience of dissolving the boundaries that separate human beings from one another. For one day, the Oromo people are not many. They are one.
This is what the Oromo call tokkummaa — unity — and it is not an abstract ideal. It is a lived experience at the water’s edge. The person standing beside you is not a stranger. They are your brother. They are your sister. They are yourself, reflected in the sacred waters.
In a nation and a world where ethnic, religious, and political identities so often divide, Irreechaa offers a different possibility: a unity that does not erase difference but transcends it. Everyone is welcome. Everyone is included. Everyone belongs.
Nageessaa: The Peace-Bringing
Nageessaa — peace-bringing.
The Oromo greeting for the festival is “Baga Irreechaa nagaan geessan” — May the Irreechaa arrive in peace. This is not a casual wish. It is a declaration of intent. Peace is not something that happens to you. It is something you arrive at, together, at the water, with your hands open and your grudges surrendered.
Irreechaa does not merely celebrate peace. It produces it. The festival is a peace-making technology, an ancient ritual that creates the conditions for harmony between individuals, communities, and the divine.
Consider what happens when millions of people gather in a single place and commit, together, to reconciliation. Consider what happens when a nation’s largest cultural event is built on the requirement that participants set aside their conflicts. Consider what happens when the sacred water receives only the prayers of those who have made peace with their neighbors.
Peace is not the absence of conflict. It is the presence of araara. And Irreechaa makes that presence visible, tangible, and real.
Damboobsaa: The Restoration
Damboobsaa — restorative. Renewing. Returning what was lost.
The rainy season in Oromia is long and hard. Rivers swell. Roads wash out. Crops are destroyed. Families are separated. The land itself seems to be in mourning.
Then the rains end. The sun returns. The harvest begins. And the people gather at the water to give thanks.
Irreechaa is the celebration after the suffering. It is the moment when the community pauses and says: We made it through. We survived. We are still here.
This is restoration — not the erasure of hardship, but the transformation of hardship into gratitude. The floods came, and we endured. The darkness came, and we waited. The sun returned, and we give thanks.
The Oromo understanding of restoration is deeply wise. It does not pretend that pain did not happen. It does not rush past grief. It simply insists that pain and grief are not the end of the story. The water is still there. The grass is still green. The community is still gathered. And the harvest, despite everything, has come.
Fooyyessaa: The Improvement
Fooyyessaa — improving. Making better.
Irreechaa is not content with survival. It seeks flourishing. The festival is not merely about maintaining what exists but about becoming more than you were.
This is the Oromo concept of fooyya’uu — progress, development, growth. The festival is connected to the harvest, to the productivity of the land, to the prosperity of the community. It celebrates not just what has been given but what has been built.
But the improvement Irreechaa seeks is not only material. It is moral, spiritual, and communal. The person who participates in Irreechaa is not the same person who entered the festival. They have been improved — refined by the discipline of reconciliation, elevated by the experience of unity, deepened by the practice of gratitude.
Irreechaa makes people better. Not through lectures or commandments, but through participation in a ritual that embodies the values it teaches.
Fufsiisaa: The Fulfillment
Fufsiisaa — fulfilling. Completing what was promised. Making whole.
There is a deep longing in the human heart for completion — for the sense that life is not fragmented, that it has meaning, that it is going somewhere. Irreechaa answers that longing.
The festival marks the fulfillment of a cycle. The rains came, and the harvest followed. The prayers were offered, and the blessings arrived. The year turns, and the community moves forward, not into emptiness, but into the next season of hope.
But fufsiisaa is more than seasonal. It is existential. At the water’s edge, surrounded by millions of people who share your language, your faith, your hope, you experience a sense of completeness that modern life so often denies. You are not alone. You are not meaningless. You are part of something larger than yourself — a people, a tradition, a story that stretches back thousands of years and forward into an unknown but blessed future.
This is fulfillment: the knowledge that you are exactly where you are supposed to be.
Fineessaa: The Refinement
Fineessaa — refining. Purifying. Making fine.
Water is the medium of purification in Oromo cosmology. At Irreechaa, participants dip sacred grass into the lake or river and sprinkle the water upon themselves and others. The Kormoomsaa — the blessing of the young men — is a ritual sprinkling that cleanses and consecrates.
This is not merely symbolic. The Oromo believe that water is the source of purity and the foundation of creation. To be sprinkled with sacred water is to be washed — not just physically, but spiritually, morally, and communally.
The refinement Irreechaa offers is the refinement of the human character. At the water’s edge, the layers of resentment, pride, and grievance are stripped away. What remains is the essential human being — vulnerable, grateful, connected, at peace.
The festival does not make people perfect. It makes them fine — purified of the things that separate them from themselves, from each other, and from the divine.
Guutessaa: The Completion
Guutessaa — completing. Making full. Filling up what was empty.
There is a difference between fulfillment and completion. Fulfillment is the experience of meaning. Completion is the achievement of wholeness. Irreechaa offers both.
The festival completes the cycle of the year. It completes the work of reconciliation. It completes the process of purification. It completes the community — bringing together all its members, from the youngest child to the oldest elder, from the nearest village to the farthest diaspora.
At Irreechaa, nothing is left out. No one is excluded. The festival is guutuu — complete, full, entire. The sea of white garments is not just a visual image. It is a theological statement: this is what wholeness looks like. This is what humanity becomes when it gathers in gratitude and peace.
The Oromo understanding of completion is radical. It insists that human beings are not complete as individuals. We are complete only in community. We are complete only in relationship with the divine. We are complete only when we gather at the water, together, with hands open and hearts reconciled.
Haaromsaa Namummaa: The Renewal of Humanity
And so we arrive at the final and greatest word: haaromsaa namummaa — the renewal of humanity.
This is the culmination of all the others. Empowerment leads to reconciliation. Reconciliation leads to unity. Unity brings peace. Peace enables restoration. Restoration opens the way for improvement. Improvement leads to fulfillment. Fulfillment demands refinement. Refinement produces completion. And completion is renewal.
Irreechaa is not just a festival. It is a process — a spiritual technology that takes human beings as they are and transforms them into what they can become. It takes fractured people and makes them whole. It takes divided communities and makes them one. It takes a broken world and makes it new.
This is what the Oromo people have known for thousands of years. This is what they celebrate at the water’s edge every year. This is what they offer to Ethiopia, to Africa, and to the world.
Humanity can be renewed. Not through politics or economics or technology alone, but through the ancient practices of reconciliation, gratitude, purification, and community. Not through grand ideological projects, but through the simple, profound act of gathering at the water with your people, setting down your grudges, and giving thanks.
Irreechaa is the renewal of humanity. And it happens every year, at the water’s edge, one person at a time.
Baga Irreechaa Nagaan Geessan
The Oromo greeting for the festival says it all:
Baga Irreechaa nagaan geessan.
May the Irreechaa arrive in peace.
May the festival be empowering, reconciling, unifying, peace-bringing, restorative, improving, fulfilling, refining, completing, and renewing of humanity.
May the waters receive your gratitude.
May the grass carry your prayers.
May the nation, like the earth after the rains, emerge greener and stronger than before.
And may you — and all of us — be renewed.
#Irreechaa #Oromia #Ethiopia #RenewalOfHumanity #PeaceAndReconciliation #Thanksgiving #HaaromsaaNamummaa




