Category Archives: mental health
Why Oromia Needs Oromo Truth-Telling
A nation cannot move forward while refusing to honestly face its past. The wounds of history will not heal until they are acknowledged, understood, and addressed.
There is a profound truth that echoes across cultures and continents, through generations and civilizations: a society that refuses to confront its past is condemned to repeat its mistakes. The wounds left unacknowledged do not heal—they fester. The stories left untold do not disappear—they haunt. The injustices left unaddressed do not fade—they endure.
For Oromia, the need for truth-telling is not a luxury. It is a necessity. It is the foundation upon which a just and equitable future must be built.
The Great Silence
Many Oromians were never taught the full history of colonisation.
This is not an accident. It is a deliberate choice—a systematic erasure designed to serve the interests of those who benefit from the continued subjugation of the Oromo people.
Generations of Oromo children have grown up learning history through the lens of the colonizer. They have been taught to celebrate conquerors while mourning the victims. They have learned the names of emperors and generals while remaining ignorant of the heroes who resisted. They have memorized the dates of battles while never understanding the human cost of those wars.
The history of colonisation is not a distant, academic subject. It is the story of how Oromia became what it is today. It is the story of how our grandparents’ grandparents lost their land, their freedom, and their way of life. It is the story of how the very fabric of our society was torn apart and rewoven according to the designs of others.
The Unlearned Lessons
The gaps in Oromo historical education are vast and consequential. Consider what has been left untaught:
Frontier Violence: The wars of conquest that swept through Oromia in the late 19th century were not gentle expansions—they were brutal campaigns of subjugation, marked by massacre, displacement, and destruction on an unimaginable scale. The stories of villages burned, families torn apart, and communities annihilated have been systematically silenced.
Stolen Land and Culture: The land of Oromia did not come to its current configuration through peaceful negotiation. It was taken—through force, through deception, through the imposition of alien legal systems that recognized neither the land rights nor the humanity of the Oromo people. Along with the land, the culture was attacked—the language forbidden, the traditions suppressed, the identity denied.
The Colonisation: Oromo colonisation is a unique and often misunderstood phenomenon. It was not a conquest from across the sea, but from within the continent—an African empire building itself upon the subjugation of other African peoples. This internal colonisation has been particularly insidious, as it has been denied, minimized, and even celebrated as “national unity.”
The Marginalised Generations: Not all Oromo experienced colonisation in the same way. Some were displaced; others were co-opted. Some were killed; others were enslaved. But generations of Oromo have lived under the shadow of this system—their opportunities limited, their voices silenced, their potential unrealized.
The Laws That Controlled Oromo Lives: The legal and administrative structures of colonisation were not neutral instruments—they were tools of control. From the forced labor systems to the land tenure regimes, from the restrictions on movement to the prohibitions on cultural expression, the laws of the Ethiopian Empire were designed to maintain Oromo subjugation.
The Past Is Not Past
Those events are not disconnected from the present. Their impacts can still be seen in families, communities, and institutions today.
The colonisation of Oromia is not a chapter of history that ended with independence or the signing of a treaty. Its effects continue to ripple through time, shaping the lives of Oromo people in ways both obvious and subtle.
In Families: The trauma of colonisation has been passed down through generations. The loss of land, the separation of families, the suppression of culture—these experiences have created patterns of pain that continue to manifest in family dysfunction, mental health challenges, and the intergenerational transmission of trauma.
In Communities: The divisions created by colonisation persist in the social fabric of Oromo communities. The legacy of divide-and-rule policies, of co-opting some Oromo against others, of creating hierarchies that served the colonizer—these continue to affect how Oromo relate to each other.
In Institutions: The colonial structures that were imposed on Oromia have not disappeared. They have been transformed, repurposed, and rebranded, but they remain—the legal systems, the administrative frameworks, the educational institutions, the economic structures. They continue to reflect the priorities and power dynamics of their colonial origins.
The Power of Truth-Telling
Oromo Truth-telling creates a shared understanding of how Oromia became the country it is.
Truth-telling is not about assigning blame or dwelling on grievances. It is about creating a common foundation of understanding upon which a just future can be built. It is about giving the Oromo people the tools they need to understand their own history and to chart their own destiny.
It allows Oromo voices to be heard instead of having our history explained for us.
For too long, the story of Oromia has been told by others—by conquerors who justified their actions, by governments that denied their crimes, by academics who studied Oromo from a comfortable distance. Oromo truth-telling reclaims the narrative. It gives Oromo people the opportunity to tell their own story, in their own words, from their own perspective.
This is not an act of aggression—it is an act of liberation.
From Understanding to Action
It is not about living in the past. It is about understanding the past so Oromia can build a fairer future.
Truth-telling is not about dwelling on grievances or nurturing resentments. It is about clearing the ground upon which a new society can be built. Just as a building cannot be constructed on a foundation of lies, a just society cannot be built on a denial of history.
To build a fairer future, Oromia must first understand:
- How the land was taken
- How the people were divided
- How the culture was suppressed
- How the institutions were designed
- How the wounds were inflicted
Only with this understanding can the work of healing truly begin. Only with this knowledge can the cycle of injustice be broken.
The Moral Imperative
You cannot heal what you refuse to acknowledge.
This is perhaps the most profound truth of all. Denial is not healing—it is a form of imprisonment. By refusing to acknowledge the past, we remain trapped in its patterns. By denying the wounds, we prevent their treatment. By silencing the stories, we perpetuate the suffering.
For Oromia, the refusal to acknowledge the history of colonisation has come at a tremendous cost. It has allowed the perpetrators to avoid accountability. It has denied the victims the recognition they deserve. It has prevented the healing that is possible only when the truth is spoken.
The moral imperative is clear: the truth must be told.
The Process of Truth-Telling
What would Oromo truth-telling look like? It would be:
Comprehensive: It would address the full scope of Oromo experience—the wars of conquest, the land dispossession, the cultural suppression, the legal discrimination, the economic exploitation.
Inclusive: It would center Oromo voices and perspectives, particularly those of the marginalized and the vulnerable. It would create space for all Oromo to share their experiences and their wisdom.
Courageous: It would face the difficult truths—the collaboration of some Oromo with the colonizer, the divisions that were created and exploited, the internal conflicts that weakened the resistance.
Forward-looking: It would be oriented toward building a better future—one that learns from the past without being imprisoned by it, one that acknowledges the wounds while working toward healing, one that seeks justice without perpetuating cycles of revenge.
Truthful: It would be honest about what happened and what continues to happen. It would not sanitize, minimize, or deny.
The Role of Oromo Journalism
The work of Oromo truth-telling has been carried forward by Oromo journalists, writers, and historians. From the early pioneers who risked imprisonment to publish in Afaan Oromo to the modern scholars who document the full scope of Oromo history, Oromo truth-tellers have kept the story alive.
Bariisaa, Yeroo, the Voice of Oromo Liberation—these and countless other Oromo media have been instruments of truth-telling, shining light into the darkness of suppression, giving voice to the voiceless, and preserving the memory of the Oromo people.
Oromo journalism is not just about reporting the news—it is about telling the truth. It is about documenting the history that others would erase, speaking the words that others would silence, and bearing witness to the experiences that others would deny.
The Healing Power of Truth
Truth-telling is not an end in itself—it is a beginning. It is the necessary first step on the long road to healing.
When Oromo history is finally told—in all its complexity and pain—it will not be an act of revenge. It will be an act of liberation. It will free the Oromo people from the burden of carrying a history they do not understand. It will free future generations from the weight of secrets and lies. It will create the conditions for genuine healing, reconciliation, and justice.
Truth-telling is not about keeping wounds open—it is about allowing them to heal properly. It is not about dwelling in the past—it is about building a future that is not haunted by it.
A Call to the Oromo People
The call to truth-telling is not a call to despair—it is a call to courage. It is a call to face the difficult truths of our history so that we can build a better future for our children and grandchildren.
It is a call to:
- Learn the history that was denied to us
- Speak the truth that was silenced
- Listen to the voices that were marginalized
- Remember the stories that were forgotten
- Heal the wounds that were ignored
- Build the future that is our birthright
The truth may be painful, but it is also liberating. The truth may be difficult, but it is also healing. The truth may be resisted, but it is also inevitable.
A Call to the International Community
The truth-telling imperative extends beyond Oromia. The international community has a role to play in supporting Oromo truth-telling, in recognizing the history of colonisation, and in working toward justice.
This is not about intervening in domestic affairs—it is about upholding universal principles of human rights, dignity, and justice. It is about recognizing that the past has not passed, that the impacts of colonisation continue to be felt, and that justice cannot be achieved without truth.
For Oromia to heal, the truth must be told. For Oromia to move forward, the past must be acknowledged. For Oromia to be free, the history of colonisation must be understood.
Conclusion: The Unfinished Work
The work of Oromo truth-telling is unfinished. It has been carried forward by generations of courageous individuals who refused to be silenced, who risked everything to tell the truth, who believed that justice would ultimately prevail.
We who stand today are the inheritors of that legacy. We are the ones who must complete the work. We are the ones who must tell the truth.
For the children who will grow up knowing their history—not the version sanitized by colonizers, but the full, complex, painful, and beautiful truth. For the communities that will finally understand how they were divided and how they can be healed. For the institutions that can be reformed and rebuilt on a foundation of justice. For the future that can be fairer and more equitable than the past.
You cannot heal what you refuse to acknowledge.
Let us acknowledge. Let us understand. Let us heal. Let us build.
“Oromo Truth-telling creates a shared understanding of how Oromia became the country it is. It allows Oromo voices to be heard instead of having our history explained for us. It is not about living in the past. It is about understanding the past so Oromia can build a fairer future.”
The work continues. The truth will be told. And Oromia will be free.
The Weight of Struggle: Why We Must Honor, Not Diminish, the Oromo Journey
Those who have walked the long road—through displacement, persecution, and sacrifice—deserve our deepest respect, not our casual dismissal
There is a dangerous tendency in our time—a habit of diminishing the sacrifices of those who came before us. It is easy to dismiss the struggles of others when we have not walked in their shoes, easy to minimize their pain when we have not felt its weight, easy to judge their choices when we have not faced their impossible dilemmas.
The reflection before us offers a powerful corrective to this tendency. It calls us to recognize the immense journey that the Oromo people have traveled—the trials they have endured, the sacrifices they have made, and the dignity they have maintained despite everything.
A People on the Move
“Nama Oromoo bu’aa bahii hedduu keessa darbuun har’a gahe, xiqqeessuu fi salphisuun faayidaan argamu hin jiru; jiraatus yoo nutti hafe wayya.”
The Oromo person who has passed through many trials to reach today—there is no benefit in belittling or diminishing them. Even if something remains, it would be better if it were left to us.
This statement is a profound meditation on the relationship between generations. It recognizes that the Oromo people have endured extraordinary hardships—centuries of colonization, decades of cultural suppression, generations of displacement, and waves of brutal repression.
The Oromo who stand before us today are the products of that struggle. They carry the scars of battles fought long before we were born. They speak with voices that have known silence, cry with eyes that have seen too much, and hope with hearts that have been broken and rebuilt countless times.
To diminish them is to diminish ourselves. To belittle their achievements is to belittle the very foundation upon which we stand.
The Journey of Exile
“Oromoon hedduun imala godaansaa keessatti gidiraa hedduu keessa darban.”
Many Oromo have passed through great difficulties during their journey of displacement. The Oromo diaspora is not a story of voluntary migration—it is a story of flight, of seeking refuge from persecution, of leaving everything behind to preserve life itself.
The Oromo exile began long before the modern era. Generations of Oromo have been forced to flee their homeland—escaping war, famine, political repression, and the systematic destruction of their communities. They have crossed borders, oceans, and continents in search of safety.
This is not a journey of choice. It is a journey of survival. And every Oromo who has made this journey carries with them the weight of what they have lost and the hope of what they might yet find.
Trials by Fire
“Biyya baqannaa keessatti qormaata hedduuf saaxilanii darban.”
In the lands of refuge, they have faced countless trials. The experience of exile is not a simple escape from danger—it is an entry into new forms of struggle. Oromo refugees and migrants have faced xenophobia, discrimination, economic exploitation, cultural isolation, and the constant anxiety of uncertain legal status.
They have had to rebuild their lives from nothing—learning new languages, adapting to new cultures, accepting menial jobs that their education and skills should have surpassed. They have been separated from families, disconnected from communities, and forced to navigate systems that were never designed for them.
And yet they have persisted. They have built new communities in foreign lands. They have preserved their language, their culture, and their identity against all odds. They have sent remittances home to support the struggle. They have educated their children, established organizations, and kept the flame of Oromo identity burning bright.
The Danger of Diminishment
“Qormaata isaan mudatee fi keessa darban kan akka tasaa ykn beekaa nu harka gale baafnee ittiin isaan salphisuu fi xiqqeessuuf yaaluun akka naamusa hojiittis akka safuu hojiittis fudhatama hin qabu.”
To try to belittle and diminish the trials they have endured and passed through—by claiming that we have miraculously or knowingly achieved what they could not—is unacceptable as a matter of both professional ethics and moral decency.
The reflection speaks directly to a troubling phenomenon: the tendency of some to dismiss the struggles of earlier generations, to claim that they somehow would have done better, or to minimize the sacrifices that made current achievements possible.
This is not merely disrespectful—it is historically and morally wrong.
Those who walked the path before us faced challenges we cannot fully comprehend. They operated under conditions we have never experienced. They made choices with limited information and in impossible circumstances. Their achievements, whatever their limitations, are the foundation upon which our current position is built.
The Ethics of Respect
The reflection argues that belittling the struggles of others is unacceptable for two reasons:
First, as a matter of professional ethics—”naamusa hojii” —there is a standard of conduct that requires us to respect the work of those who came before. In any field, to dismiss the contributions of predecessors is to reject the very tradition that made our own work possible.
Second, as a matter of moral decency—”safuu hojii” —there is a basic human obligation to honor the sacrifices of others. To diminish someone’s suffering is a form of violence. To deny someone’s struggle is a form of erasure.
Those who have sacrificed for the Oromo cause deserve our gratitude, not our judgment. They deserve our respect, not our condescension. They deserve to be honored, not diminished.
Lessons for the Current Generation
The reflection offers several important lessons for those of us who inherit the legacy of the Oromo struggle:
1. Recognition: We must recognize that our current position—whatever it may be—is built upon the foundations laid by others. We did not create Oromo identity; we inherited it. We did not invent the Oromo struggle; we continue it.
2. Humility: We must approach the achievements of earlier generations with humility. We may have advantages they did not—better technology, more resources, greater international awareness—but we also face challenges they did not. Neither generation is superior; each has played its part.
3. Gratitude: We must be grateful for the sacrifices of those who came before. Every Oromo who can read and write in Afaan Oromo today owes a debt to those who risked imprisonment to publish in the language. Every Oromo who can express pride in their identity owes a debt to those who were tortured for doing the same.
4. Continuity: We must understand that we are part of a continuing story. The Oromo struggle did not begin with us, and it will not end with us. Our role is to carry forward the legacy, to build upon the foundations, and to pass on something better to those who will come after.
The Unfinished Journey
“Nama Oromoo bu’aa bahii hedduu keessa darbuun har’a gahe…”
The Oromo person who has passed through many trials to reach today—this is not a description of a completed journey. It is a description of a journey still underway.
The Oromo people are still struggling. They are still fighting for recognition, for rights, for self-determination. They are still facing oppression, discrimination, and violence. The fact that some have found refuge in other countries does not mean the struggle is over. The fact that some have achieved success in exile does not mean the homeland is free.
Each generation has its role to play. Each generation faces its own challenges. And each generation must honor the sacrifices of those who made its own achievements possible.
The Weight of Legacy
The reflection calls us to consider the weight of what we have inherited. The Oromo people have a long and painful history—a history of colonization, suppression, exile, and struggle. But it is also a history of resilience, resistance, cultural preservation, and hope.
When we diminish the struggles of those who came before, we diminish the entire Oromo story. When we belittle their achievements, we belittle the foundation upon which our own identity is built.
Instead, we should approach the Oromo journey with reverence—understanding that every scar tells a story, every sacrifice has meaning, and every achievement is a victory against overwhelming odds.
The Call to Unity
At its heart, this reflection is a call to unity—a call to recognize that we are all part of the same story, that we are all connected by the same struggle, that we all owe a debt to those who came before.
To dismiss the struggles of earlier generations is to divide the Oromo community. It is to create false hierarchies between generations. It is to claim that some are more authentic, more committed, or more deserving than others.
This is a dangerous path. It leads to fragmentation, resentment, and the weakening of the collective struggle. It serves only the interests of the oppressor, who benefits when the oppressed are divided.
Conclusion
“Nama Oromoo bu’aa bahii hedduu keessa darbuun har’a gahe, xiqqeessuu fi salphisuun faayidaan argamu hin jiru; jiraatus yoo nutti hafe wayya.”
The Oromo person who has passed through many trials to reach today—there is no benefit in belittling or diminishing them. Even if something remains, it would be better if it were left to us.
This is a statement of respect. It is a statement of gratitude. It is a statement of continuity.
We who inherit the Oromo legacy must approach it with humility. We must recognize that we stand on the shoulders of giants—of those who preserved the language when it was forbidden, who kept the culture alive when it was suppressed, who fought for justice when it was dangerous, and who maintained hope when all seemed lost.
Let us honor their sacrifices. Let us build upon their foundations. Let us continue their struggle. And let us never forget that we are part of a long and noble tradition—a tradition of resilience, resistance, and the unwavering pursuit of freedom.
“Nama Oromoo bu’aa bahii hedduu keessa darbuun har’a gahe…”
The Oromo person who has passed through many trials to reach today…
May we always honor that journey. May we always respect that struggle. And may we always remember that we are the inheritors of a legacy that demands our deepest gratitude and our most dedicated service.
The journey continues. The struggle endures. And the story of the Oromo people will be told with the dignity it deserves.
The Blueprint of Victory: Why Oromo Success Demands Rejecting the Counsel of the Defeated
By Daandii Ragabaa
There is an old, unspoken rule in the theater of struggle: survivors write the history, but losers write the excuses. In the Oromo context, where the collective quest for self-determination, economic freedom, and cultural preservation is a daily examination of resilience, one question haunts the community: Who are we listening to?
A sobering observation often echoes through the chambers of Oromo intellectual discourse:
“Oromoonni hedduu gorsa qajeelaa argataa hin jiran. Namni qormaata darbuu barbaadu, nama qormaata kufe irraa gorsa fudhachuu hin qabu. Namoonni hedduun namoota qormaata qabsoo kufan irraa gorsa fudhatu; sun ta’uu hin qabu.”
Translated, it reads: “Many Oromo do not have proper guidance. Whoever wants to pass the test must stop taking advice from those who failed it. [Yet] many people do not take advice from those who failed the struggle.”
At first glance, the final sentence seems contradictory—if they don’t take advice from failures, why do they lack proper guidance? The answer lies in a painful paradox: the public square is dominated by the loud, defeated voices, while the silent, victorious architects remain obscured. This is the critical juncture where the Oromo struggle must evolve—from a theater of sympathy to a laboratory of strategic success.
The Danger of the Familiar Echo
Human psychology is wired for comfort. We gravitate toward those who validate our pain. When a community has faced systemic marginalization, it is easy to find solace in the company of those who share tales of bureaucratic stonewalling, economic collapse, or political betrayal.
But here lies the trap. The advice of a person who has never built a business, never negotiated a diplomatic win, or never successfully organized a self-sustaining institution is not just useless—it is parasitic.
The philosophy embedded in this Oromo axiom demands a radical break. The qormaata (exam) is not merely a classroom test; it is the existential evaluation of a nation. Are we passing the test of economic independence? Are we passing the test of educational excellence? Are we passing the test of diplomatic recognition? If the answer is no, we must scrutinize the source of our daily counsel.
Why the “Defeated” Cannot Guide the Victorious
To understand why one must stop taking advice from those who failed, we must define “failure” in the context of struggle. It is not the noble failure of a soldier who falls on the battlefield fighting an invincible force. It is the ideological failure of those who succumb to defeatism before the battle begins. It is the failure of those who normalize mediocrity, who preach that the system is “too big to beat,” and who mistake loud lamentation for meaningful action.
A student preparing for a rigorous medical entrance exam would never hire a tutor who failed the same exam five times. Why? Because failure does not produce the methodology of success. It produces the psychology of survival. The person who passed knows the shortcuts, the mindset shifts, and the precise sacrifices required. The person who failed knows only the pitfalls—and misery loves company.
The Silent Crisis of Mentorship
The axiom notes that many Oromo do not have proper guidance. This is the root catastrophe. In the diaspora and at home, the community is saturated with “critics” but starved of “architects.” We have an abundance of orators who can deconstruct oppression flawlessly, yet a scarcity of engineers who can construct the alternative.
Why do many avoid taking advice from those who did fail? Because those who failed are often the loudest. They dominate social media, they command the narrative of grievance, and they offer the easiest emotional catharsis. Meanwhile, those who have successfully passed the “exam”—the Oromo entrepreneurs running thriving global enterprises, the scholars published in top-tier journals, the diplomats navigating international corridors—are often too busy building to correct the noise.
The Paradigm Shift: Seek the Blueprint
The call here is not to abandon empathy, but to elevate strategy. If you are a young Oromo activist, do not ask the career protester how to build a political party; ask the person who actually registered a party and sustained it. If you are a student, do not ask the perpetual job-seeker for career advice; ask the professional who climbed the corporate ladder or built their own firm.
Empowerment theory, as discussed in previous discourses, argues that power is generated through competence. To break the cycle of collective stagnation, the Oromo must institutionalize a culture of Gorsa Qajeelaa—correct and proven guidance.
A Call for Discernment
The road to Bilisummaa (Freedom) is paved with strategic decisions, not emotional impulses. The “exam” we face is unforgiving. It does not award points for noble intentions; it awards results for precise actions.
It is time to adjust the volume dial. Turn down the noise of perpetual defeatism. Seek out the quiet victors in your midst. Ask them: “How did you pass?” And when they answer, take notes.
Because in the final tally of history, we are not judged by how eloquently we complained, but by how decisively we conquered. And we conquer by learning from the winners, not the defeated.
Understanding Our Past to Build a Strong Future
On a Pile of Ashes…!
In an age of relentless information and manufactured outrage, the future of our people demands reflection over reaction, wisdom over noise
The words come to us like embers carried on a restless wind—dangerous, seductive, and capable of igniting fires that will burn for generations. “On a pile of ashes…!” This is the warning cry of our time, a call to pause and reflect before we add fuel to flames that threaten to consume everything our ancestors built.
The reflection from Dabaree Seenaa arrives as a timely antidote to the poison of our age—an age where words are weaponized, history is manipulated, and the future is sacrificed on the altar of immediate gratification.
The Anatomy of Division
“Dubbiin keenya, akka akka! Namootni hedduun, madaa babal’isaa oolu.”
Our words, like a contagious disease, spread rapidly. In this digital age, a single statement can circle the globe in seconds, reaching millions before any examination of its truth or consequence can take place. We have become a people of reaction, not reflection—of impulse, not intention.
The reflection observes that many among us have abandoned the future of our country and nation in favor of obsessing over the past. They speak to pit one generation against another, to sow discord where unity should prevail, to magnify old wounds instead of seeking healing.
“Dhimmoota, egeree biyyaa fi sabaa dhiisanii, dhimmoota kaleessa darban irratti xiyyeeffatanii dhaloota wal dura dhaabuuf kan dubbatan fakkaatu.”
This phenomenon is not accidental. It is a strategy—one that benefits those who seek to keep us divided, distracted, and weak. When a people are consumed by past grievances, they cannot build a future. When generations are pitted against each other, the nation crumbles from within.
The reflection asks the crucial question: Is this the work of enemies seeking to destroy us, or the work of those who, in their ignorance, serve the enemy’s agenda?
“Ajandaa akkanaa kana eenyutu, maaliif yeroo isaa maleetti bixxilanii dhaloota gidduutti facaasuu fi burjaajessuuf hojjechuu feesise?”
The Weight of Timing
“Wanti raawwannuu fi dubbannu yoo yeroo isaa hin ta’iin miidhaa moo faay’idaa qaba?”
This question cuts to the heart of our collective dilemma: Is what we say and do, if it is not timed properly, beneficial or harmful?
The reflection reminds us that not every truth needs to be spoken at every moment. Not every grievance needs to be aired in every forum. There is wisdom in timing, prudence in patience, and strength in strategic silence.
“Yeroo amma ummatni keenya maal keessa jira? Kamtu dursa? Ajandaan kun fafa moo bu’aa fida?”
What is our people facing right now? What should take priority? Does this agenda bring solutions or merely add to our burdens?
These are questions that too few of us ask before we speak, post, or share. We are so eager to be heard that we forget to consider whether what we have to say is worth hearing.
The Danger of Historical Obsession
“Kaleessa baay’een keenya, madoofneerra. Garuu kan dursu gidiraa sabni keenya keessa jirudha.”
The reflection does not deny the past. It acknowledges that many of us have been wounded, that we carry the scars of history. But it insists that the most urgent task is the present crisis our people face.
We cannot build the future by endlessly revisiting the past. The wounds we carry must be addressed—not to keep them open, but to allow them to heal.
“Dhimmoota xiyyeeffannoo babaadan irratti hojjechuutu, dhaloota sagantaa fi karoora qabu, tooftaa fi tarsiimoo qabu ta’a.”
The work of true leadership is to focus on matters of substance, to build a generation with vision and strategy, with tactics and methodology. Not a generation consumed by nostalgia and grievance, but one equipped for the challenges of the future.
The Call for Critical Thinking
“Yaadni tokko yeroo miidiyaatti as bahu, jarjartiin deebii itti kennuun dura, duraa duubaan xiinxaluun, deebii fi yaada bilchaataa, dhimmota dhufan sanaaf deebii quubsaa ta’e kennuutu male.”
When an idea emerges in the media, the temptation is to respond immediately—to react, to counter, to defend. But the reflection calls for something different: thoughtful analysis, measured response, and consideration of the long-term consequences.
“Sababni isaa, dhalootni hubannoo qajeelaa fi wal simu akka qabaatuuf jechuu kooti.”
The reason for this careful approach is that we want a generation that understands clearly and agrees with each other. We want unity, not division; consensus, not chaos.
“Sun hin mul’atu. Hunduu walumaan huursa! ‘Cittoo irratti fanxoo!'”
But this is not what we see. Instead, we see confusion everywhere—people rushing to add their voices to the noise, to throw more fuel on the fire, to declare themselves the righteous ones while condemning all others.
The Function of History
“Namni seenaa kaleessaa qofaa odeessu, kan boruu si dagachiisuuf ta’uun dagatamuu hin qabu.”
History is not meant to be merely recited; it is meant to be learned from. Those who obsess over the past without extracting its lessons are not serving the future—they are serving to make us forget the future.
“Rakkoo fi gaarii kaleessa muudatee fi ture, irraa baratuun qaawwaa jiru irratti hojjechuutu fala.”
The solution lies not in repeating the stories of the past but in learning from the problems and successes we have experienced. Study the past, yes—but apply those lessons to address the gaps and challenges of today.
“Namootni saba isaaniif quuqama dhugaa qabanis dursa, biyyaa fi saba isaaniif kennu!”
Those who truly serve their people must give priority to what their people need now—not what happened decades ago, not what grievances remain unresolved, but what will build a better future.
The Limits of Historical Recitation
“Seenaa kaleessaa qofa deddeebisanii lallabuun garuu bu’aa ni qabaa? Yoo dhalootaaf faayidaa qabaate, dhalootaaf ibsaa deemuutu wayyaadha!”
What benefit is there in endlessly repeating the past? If it benefits the people, it should enlighten the people! If it serves the future, it should illuminate the path forward.
“Akka kanaan furmaatni dhufu ni jiraa? Furmaata sana dhalootaaf akeekuutu feesisa.”
Will solutions come from this approach? We must explain the solutions to the people—not just the problems, not just the grievances, but the practical, achievable path to a better future.
“Akka guuta lagaa fi dambalii galaanaa ta’uun, egeree biyyaa fi sabaaf fala hin fidu.”
Being like a sandbank in a river or a wave in the sea—carried by every current, shaped by every tide—does not bring solutions to the nation and the people.
“Xiqqaatii haga guddaattuu, tooftaa fi tarsiimoo dhabatu, ajandaa guyyuunuu bocamaa oolaniin buubbisuun kufaatii guddaadha.”
From small things to great, lacking strategy and methodology, disseminating an agenda shaped by whoever is in power—this is a recipe for failure.
“Rakkoo kaleessaa odeessaa ooluun, sabni gidiraa keessaa bahe hin jiru. Nama yaaddessa!”
By merely narrating past problems, the people have not emerged from their difficulties. This is something to think deeply about!
The Danger of Emotion
“Muffii-Komii-Xiiqii Fi Miirrii dhuunfaa keenyaa, egeree waloo sabaa fi biyyaa keenyaa kuffisuu akka danda’u, yaaduun gaarii natti fakkaata!”
Our anger, our complaints, our frustrations, and our personal feelings—the reflection suggests it is worth considering that these can destroy the shared future of our nation and people.
Emotions are natural, even necessary. But when they drive our decisions, when they shape our actions, when they become our guiding principles—they can lead us to disaster.
“Kun kana ta’ee, adeemsa dheeraa keessa yeroo hedduu wantin hubadhe tokko; haalaa, yeroo fi bakka garagaraa keessatti, namootni baay’een hanga maqaa isaanii hin gahan.”
This being the case, one thing I have learned over a long process, in various conditions, times, and places: many people do not even understand their own reputation. They speak and act without considering how they will be perceived or what legacy they will leave.
“Hanga of himanii fi dubbatan hin gahan. Kun hubatamuu qaba.”
They do not understand what they say or do. This must be recognized.
The Path of Wisdom
“Yaada dhihaataan hundaaf, hamaamota ta’uu irraa of qabuutu wayya.”
For every idea that emerges, it is better to refrain from being among those who rush to judgment. Patience, observation, and careful consideration are virtues we must cultivate.
“Siyaasa shiraa facaafamaan, ija siyaasaatiin ilaaluudha.”
The politics that spreads division must be viewed through the eye of political awareness. We must understand the motives behind the messages we receive.
“Waanti dhageenyu hundi, dhugaas sobas miti.”
Not everything we hear is truth—and not everything we hear is false. The world is not divided simply into lies and truth. There is complexity, nuance, and context that must be understood.
“Odoo hin dubbatiin, osoo hin murteessiin akka dhageenyetti, murtee kennuun sirrii miti.”
Without speaking, without judging—simply by listening, it is not correct to pass judgment. We must gather information, consider perspectives, and only then form conclusions.
“Rakkoo irratti rakkoo biraa akka hin uumneef nu gargaara.”
This approach helps us avoid creating new problems on top of existing ones. It prevents the escalation of conflict and the multiplication of grievances.
“Dhugummaa fi sobummaa isaa adda baafachuutu dursa. Namummaan isa kanadha!”
Distinguishing truth from falsehood must come first. This is what humanity demands!
A Call to Reflection
“Dimshaashumatti, dhalootni tasgabbii fi obsaan yaadota midiyaa kana irratti facaamu ilaaluu wayya.”
In summary, it is better for the generation to examine the ideas circulating in the media with patience and calm. Not everything that appears is urgent; not everything that is urgent is true.
“Dubbii cidii irratti ibidda darbii akka hin taane.”
Do not be like someone who passes fire on a burning wall—spreading flames without thought of the consequences.
“Loogii malee, dhugaaf hojjechuudha.”
Work for truth, not for favor. Seek what is right, not what is popular.
“Yaadota guyyaa guyyaan, midiyaa kana irratti dhufan, akeekaa fi kaayyoo isaa hubatuu feesisa.”
For the daily ideas that arrive in the media, we need to understand their meaning and purpose. What is being said? Why is it being said? Who benefits? Who is harmed?
“Bilchina, gahumsaa fi muuxannoo qabaachaa deemuun, dhaloota ititee fi gurmuu qabu nu taasisa.”
Moving forward with openness, capability, and experience will make us a generation that can withstand challenges and deliver solutions.
“Dammaquu, barachuu fi ijaaramuutu, sabaa fi biyyaaf bu’aa qaba.”
Mobilizing, learning, and building—this is what benefits the nation and the people.
“Isa kaleessaa irraa barachuun, isa boruutiif warraaquutu biyyaa walaba baasa!!”
Learning from the past to prepare for the future—this is what leads a nation to progress and prosperity!
Conclusion
“Yaada koo xumureera. Horaa-bulaa! ‘Kaayyoon, laayyoo miti!'”
My thought is complete. May you prosper! “The goal is not entertainment!”
This final statement is perhaps the most important of all. The reflection is not meant to entertain, to amuse, or to comfort. It is meant to awaken, to challenge, and to guide.
The goal of those who truly love their people must be the flourishing of their nation—not the satisfaction of personal grievances, not the pursuit of power or status, not the desire to be heard or recognized.
The goal is the goal itself: a free, just, and prosperous Oromiya. A generation that builds rather than destroys. A people that unites rather than divides. A future that learns from the past without being imprisoned by it.
“Cittoo irratti fanxoo…!”
On a pile of ashes, we must not build more fire. We must build foundations. We must build hope. We must build a future worthy of the sacrifices of those who came before us.
The time for reaction is over. The time for reflection has begun.
“Kaayyoon, laayyoo miti!”
The goal is not entertainment—it is liberation, it is justice, it is the future of our people.
May we all rise to the challenge.
“DUGDA HIN DHUGATAN, HUNDA HIN DUBBATAN”: A Reflection on Truth, Struggle and Sacrifice in the Oromo Liberation Movement
By Adugna Kesso AduBoru/430
Introduction: The Weight of Untold Truths
There is an Oromo proverb that carries profound wisdom: “Dugda hin dhugatan hunda hin dubbatan” — “Do not drink from the back; do not speak from the back.” This saying warns against acting or speaking without full knowledge, without facing things directly. It calls for integrity, courage and a willingness to engage with truth head-on, rather than from behind or from a place of concealment.
In reflecting on the journey of the Oromo liberation struggle, this proverb takes on a deeper meaning. It reminds us that we cannot claim to understand the struggle, its sacrifices and its meaning, if we only observe it from a distance or speak about it without having lived it. True understanding comes from direct experience, from being in the midst of the fire, not from standing on the sidelines.
The Struggle Is the Teacher
Much has been written and spoken about the Oromo liberation movement. Some speak of it as outsiders looking in, analysing and categorising, as if it were a subject to be dissected in a laboratory. But those who have lived the struggle know that it cannot be reduced to theories or abstract discussions. As the reflection states: “Waan taanee fi goone hunduu waan itti amannee itti seenneedha” — everything we have endured and done, we entered into it with full belief and commitment.
The struggle is not a matter of taking sides superficially or speaking in ways that please different audiences. It is not about saying one thing here and another there. The “DIDDA MASTER PLAN” — the overarching strategy of resistance — is better understood when we speak about it directly rather than avoiding it. There is a gap between remembering and doing, between speaking about struggle and actually living it.
What We Have Seen and Endured
The reflection speaks powerfully of the experiences of those who have been at the heart of the liberation movement:
“Waan qabsoo keessatti nurra gahee fi argine garuu mataan isaa qabsoodha” — But what has befallen us and what we have seen in the struggle is the struggle itself. The struggle is not separate from the experiences; it is the very fabric of those experiences.
The question is asked with raw honesty: “Mana fincaaniirra taa’aa maaf nutti ajaa’e hin jedhamu” — Why should we be told to sit on the edge of a latrine? This is a reference to how Oromo people have been marginalised, pushed to the periphery of their own lands and treated as if they do not belong at the centre of their own history.
The reflection then poses a challenging question: “Gabrummaa morma nu gahe keessa osoo jirruu shiraan hidhamne, shiraan ajjeefamne yoo jenne eessa gabroomneree?” — If we say we were tied with ropes and killed with ropes while we were in the slavery that reached our necks, where were we free?
This is a profound acknowledgment of the reality of Oromo subjugation under Ethiopian imperial rule. It does not deny the suffering but places it in context: slavery and oppression did not happen only to others; they happened to us. And yet, even within that slavery, there were those who chose to sell themselves for personal gain and those who maintained their integrity.
Betrayal, Survival and Commitment
One of the most painful aspects of any liberation struggle is the reality of betrayal. The reflection does not shy away from this:
“Gabrummaa keessatti namoota gaggaarii osoo hin taane namoota nama gurguruu bira darbanii of mataa isaaniiyyuu faayidaa fi fedhiitti of gurguranii jiraataan danuu beekna” — In slavery, we know that there are not only good people, but also those who pass by selling others and even sell themselves for their own benefit and desires.
This is a honest reckoning with human weakness and the reality that not everyone who starts the journey finishes it. Some are bought with personal interests, with selfish desires, with the false promises of the enemy. They become informants, betrayers, those who dig holes for their own people.
But the reflection also honours those who remained steadfast:
“Gabrummaa fi gidiraa saba keenyarra gahu jibbanii warri qabsoo eegalan aarsaa fi wareegama gaafataman hunda hanga lubbuu isaanii itti kitimanitti kan qabsa’aan gufuun qabsoo keessatti osoo isaan muudatin hafee miti” — Those who hated slavery and oppression and began the struggle, offering all sacrifices and responsibilities until they gave their very lives, they are the ones who are the foundation of the struggle.
The Reality of Disunity
The reflection is also a warning about the dangers of division and betrayal within the movement:
“Qabsoo geggeessitu keessa akkuma firri qabsoo jiru diinoonni, gantootnii fi galtuun danuudha” — In the movement, there are enemies, traitors and those who sell out, just as there are true fighters.
This is not a cynical statement but a realistic one. The struggle is not a romantic venture. It is a battlefield where loyalties are tested and where some who begin with you will not finish with you. The reflection continues:
“Jaalli kee waliin qabsootti seente hundi hanga dhumaa na waliin deema jettee hin eegiin” — Do not expect that all your comrades who entered the struggle with you will go with you to the end.
Some will become weak and turn back. Some will reveal secrets out of exhaustion or fear. Some will be bought by personal interests and sell you out. And the hardest part: “Kan boolla si buusee, ragaa sitti ta’us irra caalaa namuma waliin qabsoo eegaltee fi waan hunda waliin taate” — The one who digs a hole for you, who becomes a witness against you, is most often someone you began the struggle with and shared everything with.
This is a painful truth that many liberation movements have faced. The greatest betrayals often come from those closest to us.
The Cost of Silence
The reflection then turns to a difficult but necessary observation:
“Amma nan gabaabsa gidiraa fi dararaa mooraa diinaa keessatti agarree fi shira adda addaa agarree fi warra kaan irra gahe hunda gabrummaatu fide” — I will summarise: the poverty, the hardship, the suffering, the various deaths, and everything that has befallen our people — all of it came from slavery.
This is the central thesis. The condition of the Oromo people under Ethiopian rule, with all its manifestations of dispossession, marginalisation, violence and economic exploitation, is rooted in a system that treated Oromia as a colony and the Oromo people as subjects to be dominated.
And yet, the reflection acknowledges that a choice has been made:
“Sana immoo Bilisummaa Saba keenyaatti uwwisuu fi Abbaa Biyyummaa Oromoo deebisuuf qabsoo eegalame xumura itti gochuuf ta’uu beeknee waan dubbachuu qabnu kumaatama dubbachuurra callisuu filanne” — But we have chosen silence, knowing that we must complete the struggle that began to liberate our people and restore the sovereignty of Oromia, rather than saying thousands of things that need to be said.
This is not a silence born of fear. It is a strategic silence, born of the understanding that the time for words has given way to the time for action. When the struggle is not yet won, words alone cannot achieve liberation.
The Courage to Speak Honestly
The reflection concludes with a powerful statement about the right to speak with authority:
“Hanga Leencoonni seenaa isaanii barreeffatanitti warruma leenca ajjeesetu leenca ofiin jedha” — Until the lions have their own historians, the story of the hunt will always glorify the hunter.
This is a call for Oromo people to write their own history, to tell their own stories, to ensure that the narrative of the struggle is not left to those who would distort or erase it. Those who actually kill the lion — those who do the work of liberation — are the ones who have the right to speak.
“QABSOON HANGA BILISUMMAAATTI!” — The struggle continues until freedom!
Conclusion: Truth-Telling as Resistance
The reflection of Adugna Kesso AduBoru/430 is a powerful contribution to the broader project of Oromo truth-telling. It does not offer an easy narrative. It does not romanticise the struggle or ignore its internal challenges. Instead, it offers a truthful account — one that acknowledges sacrifice, betrayal, suffering and hope.
The proverb “Dugda hin dhugatan hunda hin dubbatan” reminds us that truth-telling requires direct engagement. We cannot speak of the struggle without having drunk from its cup. We cannot understand liberation without having walked its path. We cannot honour the martyrs without being willing to continue what they began.
Oromo truth-telling is not about erasing or rewriting history. It is about finally telling more of it — from the voices of those who lived it, suffered for it and continue to fight for it. It is about ensuring that when the story of the Oromo struggle is told, it is told by those who were there, who saw, who endured and who chose to speak — not from the back, but from the front, with courage and honesty.
As Oromia moves towards a future of genuine freedom and reconciliation, it must do so grounded in truth — the kind of truth that does not turn away from difficult realities, that honours the sacrifices of the past and that commits to the completion of the struggle.
Bilisummaan Oromoo hin dhabamuu!
#OromooKuushGuddichaAfrikaa — The Oromo are the great backbone of Africa.
The Meaning and Solution of Oppression
Understanding the chains that bind, and the keys that unlock them
Introduction: Defining the Unspeakable
Oppression is a word that carries weight—the weight of centuries, the weight of tears, the weight of dreams deferred and lives diminished. It is a force that shapes not only the material conditions of human existence but the very contours of the human soul. Yet for all its ubiquity in human history, oppression remains poorly understood by those who have never felt its crushing hand.
To understand oppression is to understand the architecture of human suffering. To confront it is to embark on the most essential journey any people can undertake. To overcome it is to reclaim what was always rightfully ours: our dignity, our freedom, and our humanity.
Part One: The Architecture of Oppression
What Is Oppression?
Oppression is the systematic denial of human dignity and human rights. It is not merely individual acts of cruelty or isolated instances of injustice. Rather, it is a structure—a web of laws, customs, institutions, and beliefs designed to maintain the dominance of one group over another.
The oppressed are not simply people who experience hardship; they are people whose very existence is defined by forces beyond their control. Their identities, their aspirations, and their futures are circumscribed by systems that view them as less than fully human.
Oppression operates on multiple levels:
Political Oppression: The denial of voice, representation, and self-determination. When a people cannot choose their leaders, determine their laws, or shape their future, they are politically oppressed.
Economic Oppression: The extraction of wealth and labor without just compensation. When a people’s resources are plundered and their labor exploited, they are economically oppressed.
Cultural Oppression: The suppression of language, traditions, and identity. When a people’s history is erased and their culture denigrated, they are culturally oppressed.
Psychological Oppression: The internalization of inferiority. When a people comes to believe the lies told about them, they are psychologically oppressed.
The Colonial Model: A Case Study
The Oromo people offer a textbook example of comprehensive oppression. For over a century, they have been subjected to political marginalization, economic exploitation, cultural suppression, and psychological denigration under successive Ethiopian regimes.
“The Ethiopian Empire,” as the ABO’s analysis makes clear, “was built on a divisive nationalism that promotes ethnic chauvinism. This system of ethnic, historical, cultural, and religious division continues to be reinforced by powerful actors who benefit from it. Because the system is fundamentally based on oppression and multifaceted exploitation, nations are subjected to suffering without their fundamental rights.”
The colonization of the Oromo people did not follow the European model of overseas conquest. Instead, it was accomplished through internal expansion—an African empire building itself upon the subjugation of other African peoples. This is a particularly insidious form of oppression because it is often overlooked or denied by the international community.
The mechanisms of this oppression are familiar to students of colonial history:
- Conquest by Force: The military subjugation of Oromo territories through superior weaponry provided by European powers.
- Demographic Destruction: The systematic killing, displacement, and enslavement of the Oromo population.
- Cultural Erasure: The imposition of Amharic language and culture, the suppression of Oromo identity, and the rewriting of history.
- Economic Exploitation: The extraction of resources and labor to benefit the colonizing elite.
- Political Exclusion: The denial of representation and self-governance.
The Special Character of Oromo Oppression
The Oromo experience of oppression has unique characteristics that demand attention:
Denial of Existence: For decades, Oromo identity was not merely suppressed—it was denied. Oromo were told they did not exist as a distinct people, that their language was a “dialect,” that their culture was primitive.
Internal Colonization: Unlike colonies separated by oceans, the Oromo were colonized by their neighbors within the same continental space. This has made their struggle for liberation particularly complex, as the colonizer and colonized share geographic, economic, and administrative connections.
Religious Diversity: The Oromo people practice multiple faiths—Islam, Christianity, and the indigenous Waaqeffanna. Their oppression has been compounded by religious discrimination and the use of religious divisions to weaken resistance.
Massive Population: As the largest ethnic group in Ethiopia, the Oromo’s oppression affects the lives of tens of millions of people, making it one of the largest ongoing human rights crises on the African continent.
Part Two: The Anatomy of Liberation
What Is Liberation?
Liberation is not merely the absence of oppression. It is the presence of freedom in its fullest sense—political, economic, cultural, and psychological. A liberated people are not simply free from their oppressors; they are free to determine their own future, to develop their own culture, and to express their own identity.
Liberation is both a process and a destination. It is the journey from subjugation to self-determination, from silence to voice, from shame to pride, from fear to courage.
The Liberation Framework
The ABO’s understanding of liberation is comprehensive and principled. As articulated in its guiding documents:
1. Self-Determination Is Non-Negotiable
“The Oromo people and other oppressed peoples have the full right to decide freely whether to live independently or to unite through dialogue and mutual agreement.”
Self-determination is the foundation upon which all other freedoms are built. Without the right to determine their own political status, peoples cannot be said to be free.
2. Justice Is Universal
“The ABO’s struggle is for just liberation and the recognition of Oromo rights. The struggle waged by the Oromo people is just and rightful. This is a fundamental right recognized in the UN Charter.”
Justice is not a gift to be begged from oppressors; it is a right to be claimed. The international community has recognized this right through numerous treaties and declarations.
3. Unity Is Strength
“The ABO’s vision is a liberated Oromiya, free from colonial rule, with a sovereign Oromo government established. The foundation of our national unity is one country, one people, and one nation.”
The liberation struggle cannot succeed without unity. Divisions among the oppressed serve only the interests of the oppressor.
4. Solidarity Is Essential
“The ABO believes in mutual support and cooperation among peoples struggling for liberation. It has worked to unite oppressed peoples against the common enemy and develop solidarity.”
No people can liberate themselves in isolation. Solidarity among oppressed peoples and with progressive forces everywhere is essential to success.
Part Three: The Means of Liberation
The Question of Means
How is liberation achieved? This is perhaps the most debated question in the history of resistance movements. The ABO’s approach, like that of many liberation movements, combines multiple strategies:
1. Political Struggle
The ABO has pursued political solutions to the Ethiopian political crisis, engaging in dialogue, advocacy, and the articulation of a clear political program. The party’s Political Program, first released in 1974 and revised multiple times, provides a comprehensive vision for the resolution of Ethiopia’s political problems through peaceful means.
2. Armed Struggle
“Because successive Ethiopian governments—including the current one—have refused to respect Oromo rights, the ABO is waging an armed struggle to secure them.”
Armed struggle is not a first resort but a last resort, undertaken only when all peaceful avenues have been exhausted and when continued oppression leaves no other option.
3. International Advocacy
The ABO has worked to bring Oromo issues to the international stage, engaging with human rights organizations, international media, and governments. The movement has sought to build a coalition of support that can pressure the Ethiopian government to respect Oromo rights.
4. Grassroots Mobilization
The 2015 Qeerroo movement and the nationwide uprising across Oromiya demonstrated the power of grassroots mobilization. The ABO’s work to educate, organize, and empower the Oromo people creates the foundation for lasting change.
5. Institution Building
The ABO has invested heavily in building organizational structures that can sustain the struggle over the long term. This includes establishing branches in the diaspora and developing administrative and governance capacities.
Part Four: Challenges to Liberation
The Weight of Oppression
The oppressed carry not only the external weight of their oppressors but also the internal weight of their oppression. Overcoming this internalized inferiority is one of the greatest challenges of the liberation struggle.
Psychological Oppression: Generations of denigration and subjugation have taken a toll on the Oromo psyche. The liberation struggle is as much about reawakening pride and identity as it is about political change.
Economic Dependence: The economic structures of oppression create dependencies that make resistance difficult. Breaking these dependencies requires both political liberation and economic transformation.
Division and Cooptation: Oppressors have consistently used divide-and-rule strategies to weaken resistance. Co-opting elites from oppressed communities, creating proxies, and pitting groups against each other are standard tactics.
The Enemy’s Resources: The Ethiopian state has access to substantial resources—military power, international support, and the machinery of propaganda. These resources make the struggle asymmetrical and difficult.
Part Five: The Vision of Liberation
What Freedom Looks Like
The ABO’s vision is not merely negative—the absence of oppression—but positive—the presence of a free, just, and prosperous Oromiya.
Political Freedom: A democratic system in which Oromo and other peoples can determine their own governance, participate in decision-making, and hold their leaders accountable.
Economic Justice: A system in which the wealth of Oromiya benefits its people, where economic opportunity is available to all, and where exploitation is a thing of the past.
Cultural Renaissance: The flourishing of Oromo language, culture, and identity. The celebration of Oromo history and the recovery of what was suppressed.
Social Justice: A society in which all people—regardless of ethnicity, religion, or gender—are treated with dignity and equality.
Peace and Security: Freedom from the fear of violence, displacement, and persecution.
Regional Cooperation: A liberated Oromiya contributing to peace, stability, and cooperation in the Horn of Africa.
The Nature of Victory
Injifannoon egeree qabsoon Oromoo argatu waraana tokkootiin utuu hin taane, karaa dheeraa fi rakkisaa ta’ee jira. Waraanni tokko hin mo’atu; hojii dhaloota baay’ee keessaatti hojjetame. Of kennuun dhaloota ittaanuuf bu’uura dhiisuun, dadhaboon qajeelchuun, fi jajjaboon guddisuun.
Part Six: The International Dimension
A Common Struggle
The Oromo struggle is not an isolated phenomenon. It is part of a broader global movement for human rights, self-determination, and justice. From Palestine to Kashmir, from Western Sahara to Kurdistan, peoples around the world are engaged in similar struggles.
The ABO has sought to build solidarity with these movements, recognizing that the struggle against oppression is a universal human endeavor. As the party’s documents state:
“Individuals, organizations, and forces—from within and without the oppression—who recognize, respect, and support self-determination, democracy, and peace are friends of the Oromo struggle.”
The Response of the International Community
The international community’s response to the Oromo struggle has been mixed. While some human rights organizations and governments have raised concerns about the treatment of Oromo, others have remained silent or actively supported the Ethiopian government.
This mixed response reflects the geopolitics of the Horn of Africa—a region of strategic importance, where international actors have competing interests. The ABO has called on the international community to:
- Respect the right of the Oromo to self-determination
- Condemn the oppression and human rights violations in Oromiya
- Support a peaceful resolution to the political crisis
- Recognize the legitimacy of the Oromo liberation struggle
Part Seven: Lessons for All Peoples
The Universality of the Struggle
While the Oromo struggle is unique in its particularities, it offers lessons for all peoples seeking liberation:
1. Oppression Is a System, Not a Series of Incidents
Understanding the systemic nature of oppression is essential to overcoming it. Addressing individual injustices is insufficient; the system that produces them must be dismantled.
2. Liberation Requires Unity
Divisions among the oppressed serve only the oppressor. Building unity—across ethnic, religious, and political lines—is essential to success.
3. Hope Is a Weapon
Despair is the oppressor’s greatest ally. Maintaining hope, even in the darkest times, is an act of resistance.
4. Justice Is Universal
The principles of justice, dignity, and self-determination are not Western or African—they are human. They apply to all peoples, regardless of their circumstances.
5. The Struggle Is Long
Liberation is not achieved overnight. It requires patience, persistence, and the willingness to sacrifice today for the freedom of tomorrow.
Conclusion: The Path Forward
The oppression of the Oromo people is one of the great unresolved human rights crises of our time. For over a century, tens of millions of people have been subjected to political marginalization, economic exploitation, cultural suppression, and psychological denigration.
Yet the Oromo people have not been destroyed. They have maintained their identity, their culture, and their hope. They have built organizations, developed programs, and fought for their rights. They have refused to accept their oppression as permanent.
The solution to oppression is liberation—complete, comprehensive, and uncompromising liberation. This liberation must be political, economic, cultural, and psychological. It must restore the Oromo people to their rightful place among the free peoples of the world.
As the ABO’s vision declares: “A liberated Oromiya, free from colonial rule, with a sovereign Oromo government established.”
This is not merely a dream—it is a goal, achievable through sustained struggle, unity, sacrifice, and hope. The path is long, but the destination is certain. Justice will prevail. Freedom will come.
The question is not whether the Oromo will be liberated, but when. And when that day comes, it will be a victory not only for the Oromo people but for all those who believe in justice, dignity, and the fundamental equality of all human beings.
“Cunqursaa dhabamsiisee ummatni Oromoo akka mirga kana gonfatu godhuu dha. Kaayyoo kana bakkaan gahuuf, ABO qabsoo akeeka dimokraasii irratti hundaa’e gaggeessa.”
Oppression must be eliminated so that the Oromo people may attain their rights. To achieve this goal, the ABO wages a struggle based on a democratic ideology.
The struggle continues. The victory is certain. And the freedom of the Oromo people will be the freedom of all. Afaan Oromoon kun: Qabsoon itti fufa. Injifannoon murteessa. Bilisummaan Oromoo bilisummaa hundaati.
This feature article draws on the foundational documents of the Oromo Liberation Front (ABO), including the Political Program, Constitution, and organizational analyses. It reflects the principles and vision of the Oromo liberation struggle as articulated by the ABO.
The Strong and the Weak: Lessons in Resilience from the Oromo Liberation Struggle
In the crucible of resistance, the difference between victory and defeat lies not in the strength of the enemy, but in the resolve of the fighter
The struggle for liberation is a crucible that tests the very soul of a people. It separates the determined from the disillusioned, the resilient from the defeated. In the long and arduous journey of the Oromo people toward freedom, two archetypes have emerged—the strong fighter and the weak fighter. Their stories offer profound lessons not just for the Oromo liberation movement, but for every struggle for justice and self-determination across the globe.
The Weak Fighter: A Study in Self-Destruction
When the pressures of struggle mount, when the enemy seems overwhelming, and when the path forward appears blocked, a certain type of fighter emerges—one who, in their inability to challenge the external enemy, turns their frustration inward.
“Qabsaa’ota dadhaboo yeroo diinaa fi caasaa diinaa dhiibuu dadhaban kan ofii ijaaranii keessa darban of jalatti diiguu jalqabu.”
The weak fighter, unable to strike the enemy or dismantle their structures, begins to destroy themselves. Frustration gives way to disillusionment; disillusionment gives way to despair; despair gives way to self-destruction. The organization they once served becomes a target of their internal grievances. The comrades they once marched alongside become objects of suspicion and blame. The cause they once championed becomes a source of bitterness.
“Injifannoo egeree otuu hin taane, kufaatii isaanii farrisuun dhalooti akka abdii muratu taasisu.”
The tragedy of the weak fighter is that their legacy becomes not victory but fragmentation. Rather than building a future of freedom, they leave behind a legacy of division and hopelessness. Future generations, inheriting the wreckage of internal conflict, come to believe that the struggle itself was futile.
This is the greatest danger the weak fighter poses—not just to themselves, but to the collective dream of liberation. When fighters turn against each other, when organizations dissolve into feuding factions, when the energy that should be directed against oppression is consumed by internal strife, the enemy wins without firing a shot.
The Strong Fighter: Resilience in the Face of Adversity
In stark contrast stands the strong fighter—one who, regardless of the circumstances, remains anchored in justice and truth.
“Qabsaa’oti jajjaboon, gama biraatiin, yeroo mara haqaa fi dhugaa irratti cichuun injifannoon argame akka daran guddatu falmatu.”
The strong fighter understands that victory is not guaranteed—it must be built, day by day, struggle by struggle, sacrifice by sacrifice. They know that the path to liberation is long and winding, filled with setbacks and sorrows. Yet they press forward, anchored in the conviction that justice and truth will ultimately prevail.
“Dhiibbaa fi miidhaan diinaa hagumuu itti jabaatu, karaa kaleessa ijaarrtanii ittiin xaxaa diinaa keessa darban hin tuqan; hin balaaleffatanis.”
No matter how intense the pressure, no matter how devastating the enemy’s attacks, the strong fighter holds firm. They do not abandon the strategies and structures carefully built over years of struggle. They do not compromise their principles or lose sight of their ultimate goal. They do not allow fear or frustration to erode their resolve.
“Inumaayyuu, jabina ittiin walxaxaa diinaa keessa darban tifkachaa, laafina jiru immoo akka dhalootu ittaanu sirreeffatee fuulduratti milkii caalutti tarkanfatu hojjatu.”
Rather than being consumed by weakness, the strong fighter learns from it. They recognize that the challenges of today are preparing them for the victories of tomorrow. The strengths they develop in overcoming adversity become the foundation upon which future success is built. The weaknesses they identify and correct ensure that the next generation will not repeat the same mistakes.
The Oromo Liberation Struggle: A Case Study in Resilience
The Oromo people have endured over a century of colonial oppression under successive Ethiopian regimes. Their struggle for self-determination has witnessed moments of great triumph and devastating setback. Through it all, the distinction between the strong and the weak fighter has been starkly visible.
The Weak Fighter in Oromo History:
Throughout the Oromo struggle, there have been those who, unable to strike the colonial system effectively, turned their energies toward internal conflict. Factionalism, personal rivalries, and ideological disputes have at times weakened the movement and delayed the realization of Oromo liberation.
Some fighters, frustrated by the seeming impossibility of the struggle, abandoned the cause entirely. Others, unable to achieve their ambitions within the movement, sought to destroy it from within. Still others, consumed by their own grievances, lost sight of the collective dream.
The consequences of such weakness have been profound. Decades of struggle have been prolonged. Generations have been lost to internal division. The enemy has been strengthened by the disunity of the oppressed.
The Strong Fighter in Oromo History:
Yet alongside these cautionary tales stand the heroes of the Oromo struggle—those who, against all odds, maintained their commitment to justice and truth. From the early resistance fighters who faced Menelik’s forces with little more than courage and conviction, to the modern-day revolutionaries who have carried the torch of liberation into the 21st century, the strong fighters of Oromiya have refused to surrender to despair.
These are the fighters who, despite imprisonment, torture, and exile, never abandoned the cause. They who, when the movement was at its weakest, rebuilt it from the ashes. They who, when the enemy seemed invincible, found new ways to resist.
The strong fighters of Oromiya have understood that the struggle is not a sprint but a marathon. They have built institutions, trained cadres, and passed on the legacy of resistance to new generations. They have learned from setbacks and transformed defeats into stepping stones toward victory.
Lessons for All Struggles
The distinction between the strong and the weak fighter holds lessons that extend far beyond the Oromo liberation movement. Every struggle for justice—whether for civil rights, national liberation, or human dignity—faces the same challenges.
Lesson One: The Enemy Is Not Your Comrade
When external pressure mounts, the temptation to turn against one another is strong. But the true enemy is not the comrade who disagrees with you, the leader who makes mistakes, or the organization that disappoints. The true enemy is the system of oppression itself. Directing energy toward internal conflict serves only to strengthen the oppressor.
Lesson Two: Resilience Is Built, Not Given
Strong fighters are not born—they are forged in the fires of struggle. Each setback is an opportunity for learning. Each disappointment is a chance for growth. Each sacrifice strengthens the resolve to continue.
Lesson Three: Victory Belongs to the Persistent
The arc of history bends toward justice—but only because strong fighters continue to bend it. Victory is never guaranteed; it must be won through generations of persistent effort. Those who give up guarantee defeat; those who continue, no matter the obstacles, create the possibility of success.
Lesson Four: Legacy Matters
The weak fighter leaves behind division and despair. The strong fighter leaves behind hope and a foundation for future victory. What legacy will you leave? What will future generations say of your contribution to the struggle?
The Path Forward
As the Oromo liberation movement continues its journey toward self-determination, the choice between strength and weakness remains ever present. The challenges are immense—a powerful state apparatus, a history of division, and the weight of over a century of oppression. Yet the potential for victory has never been greater.
The strong fighter looks at these challenges and sees opportunity. The fractures in the Ethiopian state, the growing international awareness of Oromo issues, the increasing unity of the Oromo people—all point toward the possibility of liberation.
“Jabina ittiin walxaxaa diinaa keessa darban tifkachaa, laafina jiru immoo akka dhalootu ittaanu sirreeffatee fuulduratti milkii caalutti tarkanfatu hojjatu.”
By recognizing and celebrating the strength that has carried the Oromo struggle this far, and by honestly addressing the weaknesses that have held it back, the movement can build toward a future of victory. The strong fighters of today are laying the foundation for the strong fighters of tomorrow.
Conclusion: The Choice Is Ours
The distinction between the strong and the weak fighter is not determined by circumstance but by choice. Every fighter, every activist, every revolutionary faces moments of doubt, fear, and exhaustion. The question is not whether these moments will come, but how we will respond when they do.
Will we turn our frustration inward and destroy ourselves? Or will we draw on the strength of our ancestors, the resilience of our comrades, and the certainty of our cause, and press forward?
The Oromo people have endured much. They have witnessed the destruction of their land, the suppression of their culture, and the denial of their rights. Yet they have not been destroyed. They have not surrendered. They have not given up hope.
“Qabsaa’oti jajjaboon, gama biraatiin, yeroo mara haqaa fi dhugaa irratti cichuun injifannoon argame akka daran guddatu falmatu.”
The strong fighter knows that victory is not simply the absence of defeat—it is the product of persistent, principled, and unwavering struggle. And it is this conviction that will ultimately carry the Oromo people from oppression to freedom, from injustice to justice, from despair to hope.
“Jabina ittiin walxaxaa diinaa keessa darban tifkachaa, laafina jiru immoo akka dhalootu ittaanu sirreeffatee fuulduratti milkii caalutti tarkanfatu hojjatu.”
Let us celebrate the strength with which we navigate the enemy’s complexities, and let us correct our weaknesses so that future generations may march forward to even greater victories.
The struggle continues. The strong fighter endures. And victory, however distant, remains within reach.
The Currency of Truth: Finding Peace in a World of Division
In an era of tribal loyalties and political polarization, one voice reminds us that truth remains unchanged by who speaks it
In a time when every statement is filtered through the lens of political allegiance, when facts are accepted or rejected based on their source, and when loyalty to tribe often trumps loyalty to truth, a quiet but powerful reflection emerges from the heart of Oromo wisdom.
“Dhugaan eenyuun iyyuu haa dubbatamu, eessatti iyyuu haa raawwatamu, dhugaan yeroo hunda dhugaadha.”
Truth—regardless of who speaks it, wherever it is manifested—remains truth forever.
This simple yet profound statement carries a weight that resonates far beyond its words. It challenges us to examine our own relationship with truth in an age of deep divisions and competing narratives.
The Fragility of Peace
The reflection begins with a meditation on peace:
“Sammuun dhugaatti amanuuf waan gaarii yaadu nagaan jiraata! Nagaa sammuu qabaachuun waan hunda caalaa badhaadhina guddaadha.”
A mind that believes in truth and thinks good thoughts lives in peace. Possessing peace of mind is the greatest wealth of all.
This is not mere sentiment—it is a profound psychological insight. When our minds are consumed by suspicion, when we view every statement through the lens of who said it rather than what was said, we forfeit our inner peace. We become prisoners of our own prejudices, forever anxious about the motives of those we oppose and unquestioning of those we support.
“Namni qalbii qulqulluu yoo qabaate, cubbuu irraa bilisa ta’a; kanaafis hirriba nagaa rafa.”
A person with a pure heart is free from sin; therefore, they sleep peacefully.
The Challenge of Our Time
In the current era, truth has become a casualty of tribalism. We have witnessed how political affiliations, ethnic loyalties, and ideological commitments color our perception of reality itself.
The reflection confronts this directly:
“Bara keenya keessatti wantoonni hedduun garee fi ilaalcha siyaasaan madaalamu. Namni nuti jibbinu ykn morminu dhugaa yoo dubbate, dhugaa sana fudhachuuf rakkina qabna.”
In our time, many things are measured by group affiliation and political perspective. If someone we dislike or oppose speaks the truth, we struggle to accept it.
This is one of the most dangerous tendencies of our age. We have become so entrenched in our positions that we cannot recognize truth when it comes from the “wrong” source. We have allowed our enemies to be defined not by their actions but by our opposition to them—and in doing so, we have surrendered our ability to perceive reality clearly.
The reflection continues:
“Yaada yaadaan mari’achuu fi mormuun hafee, gareedhaan wal mormina.”
Arguments and disagreements persist, and we oppose each other by group.
What began as genuine differences of opinion has hardened into tribal warfare. We no longer engage with ideas—we oppose people. We no longer evaluate arguments—we dismiss sources.
The Dangerous Asymmetry
Perhaps most troubling is the asymmetry in how we treat truth depending on its source:
“Dhuguma sana namni nuti deeggaru yoo dubbate garuu, ‘sirriidha’ jennee harka rukunna.”
But when someone we support speaks the same truth, we applaud and say, “That is correct.”
This double standard is the erosion of integrity itself. It means we are no longer evaluating statements based on their truthfulness but based on their alignment with our tribal loyalties. We have become incapable of independent judgment.
The implications are staggering. If truth is determined by who speaks it rather than what is said, then truth itself ceases to exist. We are left with only competing narratives, each claiming legitimacy based on the identity of its speaker rather than the accuracy of its content.
The Call to Integrity
Against this backdrop of tribalism and division, the reflection offers a clear way forward:
“Kanaaf, nama nuti deeggaru ta’e nama nuti morminu haa ta’u, dhugaan dhugaadha; cubbuunis cubbuudha. Kana akkasitti amanuu fi shaakaluu wayya.”
Therefore, whether someone is someone we support or someone we oppose, truth is truth; sin is sin. It is better to believe and practice this.
This is a call to intellectual integrity—to evaluate statements based on their merit rather than their source. It is a challenge to rise above tribal loyalties and embrace a higher standard of truth.
The reward for such commitment is profound:
“Waaqnis dhugaa jaallata; sammuunis nagaa argata.”
God loves truth; and the mind finds peace.
The Wisdom of Oromo Proverbs
The reflection draws on the rich tradition of Oromo wisdom, invoking two powerful proverbs:
“Akka Oromoon jedhu, ‘Nama jibban haqa isaa hin jibban.'”
As the Oromo say, “Do not hate a person’s justice because you hate the person.”
This proverb captures the essence of the argument: justice and truth stand independent of the people who speak them. We are called to separate our judgment of a person from our evaluation of their words.
“Akkasumas, ‘Dhugaan ilmoo Waaqaati.'”
And also, “Truth is the child of God.”
This elevates truth to a sacred status. To reject truth because of its source is to reject something divine. To embrace truth regardless of its origin is to align oneself with the sacred.
The Reward of Integrity
The reflection concludes with a powerful vision of the life lived in pursuit of truth:
“Dhugaa kabajuun nama kabajuudha; dhugaa fudhachuunis nagaa sammuu argamsiisa.”
Honoring truth is honoring oneself; accepting truth brings peace of mind.
This is the final, compelling argument for integrity. It is not merely a moral imperative—it is a practical one. Those who refuse to accept truth because of its source are not punishing the speaker; they are punishing themselves. They are forfeiting the peace that comes from living in alignment with reality.
“Guyyaa nagaa qabu qabaadha, sammuu nagaa yaadu horadhaa.”
May you have a peaceful day; may you cultivate a mind that thinks in peace.
A Message for Our Time
The reflection from Kumala Addunyaa arrives as a timely antidote to the poison of our age. In a world increasingly defined by echo chambers, confirmation bias, and tribal loyalties, it calls us back to something more fundamental: the pursuit of truth itself.
It challenges us to examine our own hearts. Are we willing to accept truth from those we oppose? Are we willing to acknowledge wrongdoing in those we support? Are we courageous enough to judge statements based on their content rather than their source?
The answers to these questions will determine not only the quality of our public discourse but the state of our own inner peace. As long as we remain prisoners of our prejudices, we will never know the peace that comes from living in truth.
The way forward is clear but difficult: we must learn to separate the message from the messenger. We must cultivate the humility to acknowledge truth wherever it appears and the courage to reject falsehood wherever it hides—even among those we love.
The Universal Call
While rooted in Oromo wisdom, the reflection speaks to all of humanity. Every culture, every nation, every community faces the challenge of tribalism and the temptation to reject truth based on its source. The principles articulated here are universal:
- Truth stands independent of its speaker
- Integrity requires us to evaluate statements on their merit
- Inner peace comes from living in alignment with truth
- Honoring truth is ultimately honoring oneself
In a time of deep division, these principles offer a path forward—not through compromise or accommodation, but through a renewed commitment to truth itself.
Conclusion
As the sun sets on another day of conflicting narratives and competing claims, the words of the reflection linger:
“Dhugaan eenyuun iyyuu haa dubbatamu, eessatti iyyuu haa raawwatamu, dhugaan yeroo hunda dhugaadha.”
Truth—regardless of who speaks it, wherever it is manifested—remains truth forever.
This is not merely a philosophical statement; it is a guide for living. Those who embrace this truth will find the peace that comes from integrity. Those who reject it will remain prisoners of their own prejudices.
The choice is ours. And the reward for choosing wisely is nothing less than peace of mind.
“Guyyaa nagaa qabu qabaadha, sammuu nagaa yaadu horadhaa.”
May you have a peaceful day; may you cultivate a mind that thinks in peace.
‘We Are Walking Door to Door’: Anti-Immigrant Vigilantes Escalate Campaign of Intimidation Across South Africa
With tens of thousands repatriated to Zimbabwe and Malawi, a nation confronts the dark tide of xenophobia as weekly marches promise more violence
JOHANNESBURG, July 9 — The morning sun rose over Alexandra township, one of Johannesburg’s most densely populated communities, promising another day of uncertainty and fear. By midday, the streets echoed with the sound of splintering wood and desperate pleas as anti-immigrant vigilantes methodically moved from house to house, breaking down doors and dragging terrified residents into the open.
The scenes playing out across Alexandra, Soweto, and Durban represent a dangerous escalation in South Africa’s ongoing xenophobic crisis—one that has already forced tens of thousands of migrants to flee the country they once called home.
‘I Am a ZEP Holder’
Among those apprehended by the marchers was Total Mhlanga, a Zimbabwean national whose hands trembled as he was escorted toward a police van. “I am a ZEP holder,” he insisted, referring to the Zimbabwean Exemption Permit that legally allows tens of thousands of Zimbabweans to live and work in South Africa. His papers, however, seemed to matter little to those who had seized him.
In Alexandra, a Reuters reporter witnessed protesters breaking into homes where they believed undocumented immigrants were hiding. Among those forcibly removed was a woman clutching a small child—both citizens of Malawi, a country now grappling with the mass return of over 38,000 of its nationals who have fled South Africa in recent weeks.
A Zimbabwean mother of three, who asked not to be named for fear of retaliation, described watching from her window as neighbors were dragged from their homes. “I came here legally. My children were born here. This is the only home they know. Now I must decide whether to stay and risk everything or return to a country I left because there was no future there.”
‘Every Thursday Until Our Demands Are Met’
The movement driving this violence has found an unlikely and increasingly vocal leader: former radio presenter Jacinta Ngobese-Zuma. Her group, known as March and March (also referred to as “March 1 March”), has organized nationwide protests that have transitioned from street demonstrations to what community leaders describe as “door-to-door” operations targeting foreign nationals.
“Protests will take place every Thursday until our demands are met,” Ngobese-Zuma declared on June 30, an informal deadline her movement had set for undocumented immigrants to leave South Africa. The promise has become a terrifying reality for migrants across the country.
Her organization has painted undocumented immigrants as the source of South Africa’s deep-seated economic challenges—unemployment, housing shortages, and strained public services—demanding tighter border controls, mass deportation, and the prioritization of South African citizens in schools and healthcare facilities.
A Community Divided
At the march in Alexandra, community leader Bongani Msomi justified the tactics being employed. “We are walking around doing door to door removing foreigners,” he stated matter-of-factly, as behind him, protesters brandished sticks and flags.
Yet not all South Africans support the movement. In the same township, elderly residents watched with concern, some shaking their heads in silent disapproval. A local teacher, who also asked not to be named, expressed anguish over the situation: “We are destroying what Nelson Mandela built. Ubuntu is dead in these streets. These people are not our enemies—they are our neighbors, our customers, our children’s classmates.”
The Government’s Response—and Its Limits
President Cyril Ramaphosa has repeatedly warned against scapegoating immigrants for the country’s problems. His government has issued clear directives that citizens do not have the right to take immigration enforcement into their own hands.
Police have deployed officers to recent marches for safety and have stepped up arrests of undocumented migrants—yet the line between law enforcement and vigilantism has become dangerously blurred. At the scenes of Thursday’s protests, officers stood by as vigilantes dragged people from their homes. A spokesperson for Johannesburg police was not immediately available to explain the actions of officers at the scene.
Human rights organizations have raised urgent concerns about the complicity—or at minimum, inaction—of law enforcement in facilitating these “removals.” “When police receive citizens who have been unlawfully detained and physically removed from their homes, they are not acting as neutral enforcers of the law,” said a legal observer who requested anonymity. “They are, in effect, legitimizing extrajudicial actions.”
A Regional Humanitarian Crisis
The ripple effects of South Africa’s xenophobic violence are being felt across southern Africa. Malawi’s government confirmed Thursday that over 38,000 of its citizens had returned in recent weeks, part of a massive repatriation effort driven by safety concerns. Neighboring Zimbabwe has seen more than 60,000 of its nationals return—a staggering figure that represents not just a humanitarian crisis but an economic shock to both nations.
These returnees are arriving in countries that already struggle with their own economic challenges. Many had been sending remittances home, supporting extended families and local economies. Their forced return is creating new vulnerabilities while straining already limited resources in their countries of origin.
The Human Cost
Behind the statistics lie countless stories of shattered lives. A Malawian shopkeeper in Soweto watched his business—built over fifteen years—looted and destroyed. A Zimbabwean nurse who had served in a public hospital for a decade now sleeps in a shelter, uncertain if she will ever return to work. An Oromo refugee who fled political persecution in Ethiopia now faces violence in the country where he sought sanctuary.
“The pain is not just physical,” says Dr. Thabo Mbeki (not the former president), a community psychologist who has been providing counseling to affected families. “People are experiencing profound trauma. They have lost everything—their homes, their livelihoods, their sense of safety. Children are refusing to eat. Parents cannot sleep. The psychological wounds will last for generations.”
The Economic Fallacy
Economists have pushed back against the narrative that immigrants are the primary cause of South Africa’s economic woes. Studies have shown that immigrants often create jobs through entrepreneurship, fill critical skills gaps, and contribute to the tax base. The country’s unemployment crisis, they argue, has far deeper roots in systemic inequality, inadequate education, and stagnant economic growth.
“To blame immigrants for unemployment is not just inaccurate—it’s dangerous,” says economist Tendai Moyo. “It diverts attention from the real structural reforms that are needed. It gives people a scapegoat instead of solutions.”
A Nation at a Crossroads
South Africa stands at a defining moment. The post-apartheid constitution—one of the most progressive in the world—enshrines human dignity and equality. Yet the country’s actions are betraying these principles.
As Thursday’s marches conclude and communities brace for what next week may bring, a fundamental question remains: Will South Africa find the political will to protect the most vulnerable among its residents, or will it allow xenophobic violence to become normalized?
The international community is watching. The African Union has expressed concern. Human rights organizations have documented abuses. Diplomats from affected countries have raised the issue with their South African counterparts.
But for the families huddled behind locked doors—the legal permit holders who still fear arrest, the children too frightened to attend school, the business owners who have lost everything—the response so far has been insufficient.
A Plea for Humanity
As evening falls over Alexandra, the sound of broken glass crunches underfoot. Women sweep debris from their doorsteps. Men gather in small groups, their voices low with tension. Children peek through curtained windows, their games silenced.
“In a just world, this would not happen,” reflects one elderly South African woman who has lived in the township for seven decades. “We suffered under apartheid. We know what it is to be treated as less than human. How can we do this to others? How have we forgotten so quickly?”
Her question hangs in the air, unanswered.
The marches will continue, the groups have promised. And as long as they do, the fragile thread of pan-African solidarity—the very ideal that South Africa’s liberation struggle championed—grows thinner with each passing Thursday.
Reporting from Johannesburg, Alexandra township, and Soweto. Additional reporting from Lilongwe and Harare.
The Personal Cost: What Participation Really Means in the Oromo Struggle
By Daandii Ragabaa
Participation in the Oromo struggle is not a badge of honor to be worn lightly. It carries real costs: the risk of imprisonment, the loss of employment, the strain on family relationships, the psychological toll of witnessing injustice and state violence. To enter this path without understanding these burdens is not bravery—it is recklessness.
For many young Oromos, the call to action feels almost magnetic. It pulses through social media feeds, echoes in university lecture halls, and reverberates in the whispers of elders who remember previous struggles. The desire for bilisummaa—freedom—burns bright, and rightfully so. But brightness can blind, and passion untempered by preparation can lead to devastation.
The Weight of Knowledge
The informed participant calculates these costs soberly. They do not romanticize martyrdom but prepare for the possibility of sacrifice. This is a critical distinction: one can be willing to sacrifice without seeking suffering. The romanticized image of the revolutionary—defiant, fearless, untouchable—is a dangerous fiction that has shattered too many young lives.
Consider the family left behind when a participant is detained. The mother who cannot sleep. The children who grow up without a parent’s presence. The spouse who must navigate a sudden single-income household. These are not abstractions; they are the daily realities of thousands of Oromo families across Ethiopia and the diaspora.
Building the Foundation
The wise participant builds support networks before they are needed. They identify trusted friends who can act as emergency contacts. They establish communication protocols. They ensure their family understands—to the extent possible—the risks involved. They plan for the psychological and material consequences of their involvement.
This planning is not cowardice. It is the opposite. It is the recognition that the struggle is a marathon, not a sprint. That sustainability matters. That burning out in the first mile serves no one.
Mental health preparation is particularly crucial. Witnessing state violence—whether in person or through graphic videos shared online—leaves scars. The constant hypervigilance, the grief for fallen comrades, the anger that simmers just beneath the surface—these accumulate. Participants who ignore their psychological well-being often find themselves unable to continue when their community needs them most.
The Material Realities
Loss of employment is not a theoretical risk. In Ethiopia, known activists have been dismissed from government positions, blacklisted from private sector jobs, and denied educational opportunities. In the diaspora, there are subtler forms of economic retaliation: lost contracts, strained business relationships, sudden “restructuring” at workplaces.
Financial planning, therefore, becomes an act of resistance. Saving emergency funds. Maintaining skills that remain marketable regardless of political climate. Diversifying income sources. These are not signs of divided loyalty but of strategic thinking.
A Call to Maturity
This is not a counsel of fear but of maturity. The struggle is too important to be undertaken by those who have not counted the cost. Freedom is not won through impulse but through sustained, strategic, and sober effort.
The Oromo people have endured too much to have their liberation squandered by recklessness. Every arrest, every career lost, every family torn apart—these are not abstract statistics. They are the flesh and blood of the movement. To treat them carelessly is to dishonor their sacrifice.
So before you post that video, before you attend that protest, before you speak those words that cannot be unsaid—pause. Count the cost. Build your support. Prepare your mind. Strengthen your body. And then, with clear eyes and a full heart, decide.
Because the most powerful participants in any struggle are not the ones who act without thinking—they are the ones who think deeply, prepare thoroughly, and then act with unwavering commitment.
That is what participation really means.
If you or someone you know is struggling with the psychological toll of involvement in political activism, please reach out to trusted community supports or mental health professionals. Your wellbeing matters—to your family, your community, and the struggle itself.
Advocacy for Oromia 