Category Archives: Obituary
THE GENERATION OF THE BOOK: How the Keepers of Knowledge Forged a Living Purpose for Their Nation
They did not pick up arms alone; they picked up pens, manuscripts, and the dusty archives of memory—and in doing so, they gave their people a future worth fighting for.
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By Our Staff Writer
There is a generation that walks among us—unassuming, often overlooked, yet carrying the weight of centuries upon their shoulders. They are not soldiers in the conventional sense. They do not stand on barricades with rifles. Their weapons are older, sharper, and far more enduring: books, scrolls, oral epics, and the sacred duty of remembrance.
This is the generation that read the book of knowledge not for personal glory, not for academic titles, but for their nation and their country. They understood that a people who forget their past are a people condemned to wander in the darkness of others’ narratives. So they opened their eyes, their ears, and their hearts to the whispers of their ancestors, and they transcribed those whispers into a living, breathing blueprint for the future.
They have set a Living Purpose—a compass not carved in stone, but etched into the very soul of the Oromo nation.
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The Archive of Silence No More
For decades, the history of Oromia was a forbidden text. Colonial anthropologists wrote of the Oromo as a “stateless” people, a footnote to Ethiopian imperial narratives. State-sponsored textbooks erased the Gadaa system, reducing a 500-year-old democracy to a “primitive” custom. The language itself was relegated to the shadows, its beautiful rhythms and proverbs deemed too dangerous for the public sphere.
Then came the generation of the book.
They began in secret—under the flickering light of kerosene lamps, in the basements of diaspora homes, in the prayerful silence of elders’ huts. They transcribed oral histories that had survived the swords of conquerors. They translated ancient poems and legal codes. They documented the names of heroes whose graves had been deliberately unmarked. They studied the sciences of agriculture, linguistics, law, and political theory, not as abstract disciplines, but as tools for liberation.
This was not merely academic curiosity. It was archaeology of the soul. Every recovered manuscript, every restored lineage, every corrected historical distortion was a brick laid in the foundation of a nation that had been told it had no foundation at all.
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The Book as the Blueprint
But this generation did not stop at remembrance. They were forward-looking—future-casting visionaries who understood that the past, no matter how glorious, is only the starting line.
They read, yes. But they also interpreted. They asked: What does the Gadaa system teach us about governance today? How can the Oromo philosophy of Nagaa (peace) inform conflict resolution in a fractured region? What economic models are sustainable for the pastoralists of the Borana and the farmers of Arsi? How can the Oromo diaspora, scattered across the globe, remain connected to the homeland without losing their hard-won international solidarity?
The generation of the book synthesized these questions into a Living Purpose—a dynamic, evolving vision that adapts to changing circumstances while remaining rooted in eternal values. They did not propose a rigid ideology, but a method: a way of being Oromo that is simultaneously ancient and modern, particular and universal, rooted and reaching.
This purpose is not a document gathering dust on a shelf. It is a living will, passed from elder to youth, from rural village to urban university, from the highlands to the diaspora. It grows, it breathes, it argues with itself—and in that self-critique, it becomes stronger.
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The Pedagogy of the Rising Sun
How do you teach a nation to read its own future?
The generation of the book understood that literacy is not merely the ability to decode letters; it is the capacity to decode power. They established schools where none existed—underground classrooms beneath the shade of the Odaa tree, where children learned their mother tongue while the state listened for whispers of sedition. They published pamphlets, newsletters, and eventually, fully-fledged books that laid bare the mechanisms of their oppression and the pathways to their emancipation.
They also taught critical reading. They encouraged their students to question, to cross-reference, to recognize bias in official narratives. They did not want obedient subjects; they wanted sovereign minds—citizens capable of discerning truth from propaganda, justice from ritualized injustice.
In this way, the book became a liberation pedagogy. Every page read, every footnote examined, every historical contradiction exposed, was an act of resistance more potent than any weapon. Because an army can be defeated; a regime can fall; but a generation that knows how to think? That is a force no tyranny can suppress.
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The Living Purpose in Action
Today, we see the fruits of that labor.
In the global forums of human rights advocacy, Oromo intellectuals cite their own traditions of democratic governance to challenge international observers. In the digital corridors of social media, a new generation of Oromo writers, poets, and meme-makers use their ancestors’ wit to dismantle contemporary prejudice. In the universities of the diaspora, students majoring in Oromo studies reclaim a heritage that was once “impractical” and “irrelevant” to Western academia.
The Living Purpose is materialized in the Oromo flag—that trinity of black, red, and white—which is not just a piece of cloth, but a summary of the book they read: black for the land, red for the sacrifice, white for the dawn to come. It is manifested in the Irreechaa festival, where thousands gather to give thanks, not as a ritualistic relic, but as a vibrant, contemporary expression of ecological spirituality.
And it is embodied in the quiet dignity of an Oromo mother who, despite the threat of arrest, teaches her child to say, “Ani Oromoo”—I am Oromo—with the same natural, unbreakable pride with which she breathes.
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The Unfinished Chapter
Yet, the book is not complete. This generation knows that their task is not finished. The Living Purpose is not a destination; it is an open road.
There are still histories to recover, languages to revive, and systems to redesign. There are still young minds, especially in rural communities, who lack access to the very books that could set them free. There are still regimes that burn libraries and persecute poets, believing that if they destroy the words, they destroy the nation.
But they have already lost. Because the generation of the book has ensured that the words live within the people. No fire can burn a book that has been committed to memory. No censorship can silence a story that is carried on the tongue and passed through the blood.
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A Final Leaf
As the sun descends over the Oromo homeland, casting its long shadows across the Rift Valley, one can almost hear the turning of pages—the rustle of a billion hopes, inscribed not in ink, but in action.
The generation that read for their nation has set a purpose that will outlive them. They have planted a forest of knowledge, and though they may not sit in its final shade, they have ensured that their children, and their children’s children, will.
They read the book. They understood the mission. And they passed it on—not as a relic, but as a flame.
The pages turn. The purpose lives. And the nation, at last, begins to write its own destiny.
A Life of Faith and Legacy: Honouring Luba Shamsuddiin Abdoo
“Qulqulloonni ajaja Rabbii eegan, kanneen Yesuusii fiis amanamoo tahanii obsaan sabatan, kanaan beekaman.”
“Blessed are those who keep God’s commands, who are faithful to Jesus and patiently endure.”
A Farewell to a Spiritual Father
On a somber yet hopeful day, the Oromo Christian community and beyond came together to honour the passing of a remarkable servant of God—Luba Shamsuddiin Abdoo. His funeral service, held at Fairview Baptist Church in Calgary, Canada, was a testament to a life well-lived, a legacy of faith, and a homecoming to eternal rest.
The Oromo Bible Society (OBiS) expressed profound gratitude for the life and work of this dedicated servant. In their reflection, they wrote:
“Hojii Hiikkaa Macaafa Qulqulluu keessatti, hojii seena qabeessi isin hojjettan jiraataadha. Waldaan Macaafa Qulqulluu Oromoo galata guddaa isiniif qaba.”
“In the work of translating the Holy Scripture, you have done a historic work. The Oromo Bible Society has great gratitude for you.”
A Life of Service to the Word of God
Luba Shamsuddiin Abdoo was not just a translator—he was a bridge between the sacred text and the Oromo people. His work in Bible translation ensured that generations of Oromo Christians would have access to the Word of God in their own language, a gift that transcends time and geography.
The Oromo Bible Society honoured his contribution, remembering him as one of the key figures in the historic work of bringing the Scriptures to the Oromo people. In a message shared by HW Abdusalaam Ruduwaan, a close colleague, the depth of Luba Shamsuddiin’s impact is evident:
“Abbaa keenya nagayaan gara boqonnaa keetti gali.”
“Our father, rest in peace.”
A Legacy of Faith and Endurance
The life of Luba Shamsuddiin Abdoo was marked by faithfulness, perseverance, and unwavering commitment to his calling. His family, colleagues, and community remember him as a man who lived by the principles he preached.
As the scripture chosen for his farewell reminds us:
“Asii achi warri kan Gooftaa tahanoi du’an, eeybifamoo dha jedhii tii katabi! sagalee jettu takkaan samii keeysaa dhagaye. Ruuhal Qudusiis, ‘Eeyye, hojii isaanii isaan duukaa waan deemtuuf jecha, dadhabbii isaanii irraa haara ni galfatu’ jedha.” (Mul 14:12-13)
“Then I heard a voice from heaven say, ‘Write this: Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord from now on.’ ‘Yes,’ says the Spirit, ‘they will rest from their labour, for their deeds will follow them.'”
These words capture the essence of Luba Shamsuddiin’s journey—a life of labour for the Kingdom, now at rest, with his deeds following him as a testimony to his faithfulness.
A Father’s Legacy
To his children, Luba Shamsuddiin Abdoo was more than a spiritual leader—he was a father, a mentor, and an example of unwavering faith. In a heartfelt tribute, one of his children expressed:
“Baabaa kiyya nagayaan boqadhu, bara jireenya kiyyaa hundumaa sin dagadhu, ati fakkeenya anaaf hin darbine, mallattoo cichoomaa fi mullata guddaa naaf taatee jirta, bara jireenya kiyyaa hundumaa sin irraanfadhu.”
“My father, rest in peace. I will never forget you all the days of my life. You have been an example for me that will not pass away—a sign of perseverance and great vision. I will never forget you all the days of my life.”
His children—Beeftu Abdo, Gorsitu Shamsudin Abdo, Ibsitu Shamsudin, Rebu Abdo, John Esaias, and others—carry forward the legacy of faith he instilled in them. The family was encouraged to remain strong in the Lord:
“Jajjabina Ruuhal Qus kennuu fi ayyaana Gooftaatiin jajjabaadhaa.”
“Be strengthened by the Spirit’s grace and the Lord’s blessing.”
A Call to Continue the Journey
As the Oromo Bible Society and the wider community mourn his loss, they also celebrate his life. The work he started—the translation of the Holy Scriptures, the teaching of God’s Word, and the building of faith—continues through those he inspired.
His close colleague, Evangelist Abduselam Redwan, reflected on the unfinished work:
“Akkuma hujiiwwan kanaan duraa akkuma fixnee ummataan geenye hujiiwwan hafanii fi imaanaa si fi Gooftaarraa taateen nutti darbite hundumaas niin xumura, kaayyoo fi mullata ati jiraatteef suniis niin humna Gooftaatiin niin milkeeysa.”
“Just as we have completed the works before us and reached the people, we will finish the remaining works, and the faith that you have passed on to us—we will complete it by the grace of God. The purpose and vision you lived for will be fulfilled by the power of the Lord.”
Honouring His Memory
The words of Hebrews 13:7 were a guiding verse for Luba Shamsuddiin’s life and a call for those who follow:
“Warra hooggantoota, kanneen Qoowlii Rabbii isin barsiisaa turan yaadadhaa! Haala jireenya isaanii laalaa, amantii isaanii duukaa bu’aa!”
“Remember your leaders, who spoke the word of God to you. Consider the outcome of their way of life and imitate their faith!”
A Final Prayer
As the Oromo community in Canada, Ethiopia, and around the world mourns the loss of Luba Shamsuddiin Abdoo, they take comfort in the promise of eternal rest. His work, his faith, and his legacy live on in the hearts of those he touched.
“Abbaa keenya nagayaan gara boqonnaa keetti gali.”
“Our father, rest in peace.”
Luba Shamsuddiin Abdoo — A servant of God, a translator of Scripture, a father of faith, a legacy of love.
“Father, thank you for your life. We will continue your journey. We will keep the faith.”
Celebrating Muhuba: A Story of Kindness in Crisis
When a labouring patient arrived alone, unable to speak English, ISS placemaker Muhuba didn’t hesitate. She was on her way home from a cleaning shift at The Royal Women’s Hospital when she got a call—and she turned around without a second thought.
It was the end of a long shift. Muhuba had spent her day cleaning at The Royal Women’s Hospital in Melbourne—ensuring that rooms were sanitised, surfaces were spotless, and the environment was safe for patients, families, and staff. She was tired. She was heading home.
Then her phone rang.
On the other end was a voice from the hospital, asking if she could help. A labouring patient had arrived alone. She was scared. She couldn’t speak English. And staff had just discovered that Muhuba spoke her language.
Muhuba didn’t hesitate. She turned around and came straight back.
“I just wanted to help,” she said.
A Labour of Love
What happened next would change a woman’s birth experience—and inspire people around the world.
Muhuba was quickly thrown a pair of scrubs and rushed into the operating theatre. For the next five hours, she stayed by the patient’s side. She held her hand. She spoke to her in her own language. She calmed her fears.
She was not a midwife, a nurse, or a doctor. She was a placemaker—a cleaner. But in that moment, she was the only person who could truly communicate with a terrified mother about to bring a new life into the world.
The woman gave birth safely, comforted by the presence of someone who spoke her words, understood her heart, and gave her the dignity of being heard.
The Kind of Care That Transcends Job Titles
At The Royal Women’s Hospital, patient safety and comfort are paramount. But sometimes, the most profound care comes from unexpected places. Muhuba’s story is a testament to the fact that compassion does not require a clinical degree—it requires a human heart.
In her five hours in the theatre, Muhuba was not just translating words. She was translating trust. She was bridging the gap between a foreign medical system and a terrified mother. She was giving that woman the single most powerful gift a caregiver can offer: the feeling that she was not alone.
When the award nomination was announced, those who know Muhuba were not surprised. Her act was not a one-time gesture—it is a reflection of who she is. Every day, staff at the Women’s see the quiet dignity and dedication of workers like Muhuba, who clean rooms, deliver meals, and ensure the hospital runs smoothly, often without recognition.
Recognition Across the World
Muhuba’s extraordinary kindness did not go unnoticed.
Last year, she was recognised with a state-wide award from ISS—the global facility services company that employs her. Her act of going above and beyond stood out as an example of the power of compassion in healthcare.
This year, she has been named one of four international finalists in a global awards program. In May, ISS will fly her to Denmark for the awards ceremony, where she will represent The Royal Women’s Hospital—and Australia—on the international stage.
It is a remarkable journey for a woman who was simply heading home after a shift and answered a call for help.
The Placemaker’s Role: More Than Cleaning
ISS describes its role as “placemaking”—creating environments where people thrive. Muhuba’s story exemplifies this mission. In a hospital setting, the role of cleaning staff is often invisible, taken for granted. Yet without them, the hospital could not function. They are the quiet guardians of hygiene, the unseen hands that ensure safety, and, as Muhuba proved, sometimes the most compassionate voices in a time of crisis.
Muhuba’s willingness to drop everything and stay for five hours speaks to a deeper philosophy: care is not confined to job descriptions. It is a human duty, a moral impulse, and a gift that can be given by anyone, regardless of their title.
A Hospital Community That Cheers Her On
The Royal Women’s Hospital has expressed profound pride in Muhuba’s recognition. In a social media post celebrating her achievement, they wrote:
“We are incredibly proud of Muhuba and the compassion she brings to our hospital community. Join us in cheering her on as she represents the Women’s on the international stage.”
The post resonated widely—drawing thousands of reactions, comments, and shares. People from around the world responded with admiration. They saw in Muhuba’s story something universal: the power of one person to make a difference when it matters most.
One commenter wrote: “This is what true compassion looks like. Thank you, Muhuba, for showing the world that kindness has no boundaries.”
Another said: “She may not have a clinical degree, but she has a degree in humanity. This is the kind of care we all need.”
The Language of Kindness
Muhuba’s act of kindness also highlights a broader issue in healthcare: the importance of language access and culturally safe care.
Australia is one of the most multicultural nations in the world, yet language remains a significant barrier to equitable healthcare. Patients who cannot speak English are often at risk of miscommunication, misdiagnosis, and poor health outcomes. They may feel isolated, frightened, and unable to advocate for themselves.
Muhuba’s presence in that theatre was more than comfort—it was clinical necessity. She ensured that a mother could understand what was happening, could express her fears, and could consent to her care with full understanding. In doing so, she helped deliver not just a baby, but a safer, more dignified birth experience.
Her story reminds us that health systems must invest in language services, translation support, and cultural safety training—and that sometimes, the most effective support is the person who simply speaks your language and holds your hand.
From Melbourne to Denmark
In May, when Muhuba boards a plane for Denmark, she will carry with her the hopes of her colleagues, her community, and the thousands of people who have been moved by her story.
She will stand on an international stage, not as a doctor or a nurse, but as a placemaker—a cleaner—who proved that compassion is the highest qualification of all.
Her recognition is not just personal. It is a tribute to all the invisible workers in hospitals around the world: the cleaners, the porters, the kitchen staff, the administrative workers—everyone who contributes to healing without wearing a white coat.
They are the backbone of healthcare. And Muhuba has shown the world just how powerful their contribution can be.
A Message to Us All
Muhuba’s story is a challenge—and an invitation.
It challenges us to recognise that kindness is always possible, even when we are tired, even when we are heading home, even when it is not “our job.”
It invites us to see the humanity in everyone, to reach out when someone is in need, and to understand that the smallest gestures—a held hand, a spoken word, a calm presence—can change a person’s entire experience.
As one commenter wrote: “Not all heroes wear capes. Some wear scrubs and hold hands.”
Muhuba is one of those heroes. And soon, the world will have a chance to celebrate her.
Join Us in Cheering Her On
The Royal Women’s Hospital is inviting everyone to join in celebrating Muhuba’s international recognition.
“We couldn’t be prouder of Muhuba,” the hospital said. “She represents the very best of who we are—people who care, who go above and beyond, and who make a difference when it matters most.”
When Muhuba heads to Denmark in May, she will be carrying more than her own story. She will be carrying the stories of countless patients who have been comforted by someone like her—someone who chose compassion over convenience, kindness over exhaustion.
She is an inspiration to the entire hospital community. And now, she is inspiring the world.
Muhuba, we are so proud of you. Your kindness has already changed lives—and it will continue to do so as your story travels around the world. Congratulations on this well-deserved recognition, and thank you for showing us all the power of a compassionate heart.
The Royal Women’s Hospital is Australia’s largest specialist women’s hospital, providing care for women and newborns across Victoria and beyond. Founded in 1856, the hospital is committed to excellence in clinical care, research, and advocacy for women’s health.
The Sacred Trust: Why Workplace Confidentiality Is a Duty Beyond Law
In every workplace, there are lines that should never be crossed—and confidentiality is one of them. It is not just a rule; it is a promise.
A colleague shares a private frustration over coffee. A manager casually discusses sensitive restructuring plans. A personnel file is left open on a shared screen. An email containing personal information is forwarded without a second thought.
In the moment, these seem like small slips—harmless, even human. But the consequences can ripple far beyond what anyone anticipates.
“Namni kamuu iccitii mana hojii eeguuf dirqama qaba.”
(Every person has a duty to protect workplace confidentiality.)
This is not merely a bureaucratic requirement tucked into employment contracts. It is a fundamental pillar of trust, professionalism, and ethical conduct. And when that trust is broken, the damage can be profound—not only to individuals but to entire organisations, communities, and lives.
What Is Workplace Confidentiality?
Workplace confidentiality refers to the obligation of employees to protect sensitive information they encounter in the course of their work. This includes:
- Personal information about colleagues, clients, and customers
- Financial data and business strategies
- Medical records and health information
- Performance reviews and disciplinary matters
- Trade secrets and proprietary knowledge
- Internal communications and decision-making processes
Whether it is spoken in a meeting, written in an email, or stored in a database, such information is entrusted to employees on the understanding that it will be handled with care and discretion.
The Line Between Sharing and Violating
We live in an age of oversharing. Social media encourages us to broadcast our thoughts, workplace chat platforms blur the boundaries between professional and personal, and the ease of forwarding an email can make us forget that some messages were never meant to be shared.
But there is a clear and important distinction.
“Namni tokko iccitiin namoota dhuunfaa baasee maxxansuu fi saaxiluun dhorkaa dha.”
(It is forbidden for a person to disclose and share private information with others.)
This is not merely a suggestion—it is a legal and ethical obligation. In Australia, privacy laws such as the Privacy Act 1988 (Cth) and the Australian Privacy Principles (APPs) regulate how personal information must be handled, and breaches can result in serious penalties. Beyond the legal consequences, there are reputational and relational costs that can take years to repair.
When Confidentiality Is Broken: Real-World Consequences
Consider the real-world impact of a breach:
A team leader casually mentions in a group meeting that a staff member is struggling with a health condition. The staff member feels exposed and humiliated, their trust shattered. Colleagues begin to treat them differently, and the workplace atmosphere becomes strained. The staff member may even leave the organisation, taking their talent and experience elsewhere.
A payroll officer accidentally emails salary details to the entire company. The fallout is immediate—resentment, comparisons, and a breakdown in morale that affects productivity for months. Trust in management evaporates, and the company’s culture is damaged for years.
An employee posts about a confidential client dispute on social media. The client discovers the post, files a complaint, and the company’s reputation is irreparably damaged. The employee is terminated, and the company loses a valuable contract—and potentially many more.
A healthcare worker shares a patient’s medical details with friends. The patient feels violated, their privacy destroyed. They may lose trust in the entire healthcare system, avoiding necessary care in the future. The worker faces disciplinary action, loss of registration, and potential legal consequences.
These are not hypothetical scenarios. They happen every day in workplaces across the world—in hospitals, schools, government offices, and corporate boardrooms.
Why Confidentiality Matters
Confidentiality is not about secrecy for its own sake. It is about:
1. Respect for Individuals
Every person has a right to privacy. When we respect that right, we affirm the dignity and worth of our colleagues, clients, and stakeholders. We acknowledge that their personal information belongs to them—not to us.
2. Building Trust
Trust is the currency of effective workplaces. Employees who feel their private information is safe are more likely to speak openly, seek help when needed, and contribute fully to their teams. Trust is hard-won and easily lost. Once broken, it is rarely fully restored.
3. Protecting the Organisation
A breach of confidentiality can expose an organisation to legal liability, financial loss, and reputational harm. In competitive industries, it can also hand advantages to rivals. The cost of a data breach—in fines, legal fees, and lost business—can run into the millions.
4. Maintaining Professional Standards
In professions such as healthcare, law, social work, and finance, confidentiality is not just expected—it is mandated by codes of conduct and professional ethics. Breaches can result in loss of professional registration, ending careers.
5. Protecting Vulnerable People
For clients and customers who are vulnerable—such as those seeking mental health support, financial advice, or legal assistance—confidentiality is essential. Without it, they may not seek help at all. The consequences can be devastating.
Striking a Balance
Of course, confidentiality does not mean silence in the face of wrongdoing. Whistleblower protections exist to allow employees to report illegal or unethical behaviour without fear of retaliation. The distinction lies in the purpose and intent of the disclosure.
Sharing information to expose corruption, protect public safety, or prevent harm is fundamentally different from gossiping about a colleague’s personal struggles or leaking sensitive data for personal gain.
The key questions to ask:
- Is there a legitimate public interest in this disclosure?
- Is the information being shared through proper channels?
- Is the motivation to protect, or to harm?
What Every Employee Should Remember
“Kun seeraanis ta’ee naamusaan kan eegamuu dha.”
(This is to be upheld both by law and by conscience.)
Workplace confidentiality is a dual obligation—it is written into contracts and legislation, but it is also a matter of personal integrity. The law can penalise breaches, but it is conscience that should guide us in the moment of decision.
Before sharing information, ask yourself:
- Does this person have a legitimate need to know?
- Am I authorised to share this?
- Could this cause harm or embarrassment to anyone?
- Would I be comfortable if this were shared about me?
- Is this information protected by law or professional ethics?
If the answer to any of these questions gives you pause, it is likely better to remain silent.
A Shared Responsibility
Confidentiality is not just the responsibility of managers, HR professionals, or legal teams. It belongs to every single person in the workplace.
It means:
- Locking your screen when you step away from your desk
- Not discussing sensitive matters in public spaces like elevators or cafeterias
- Thinking twice before forwarding an email or sharing a document
- Saying, “I’m sorry, I can’t discuss that,” even when pressed by curious colleagues
- Properly disposing of confidential documents (shredding, not just recycling)
- Using secure communication channels for sensitive information
In an era of information overload and digital permanence, discretion has become a rare and valuable quality. Those who practise it are trusted more, respected more, and ultimately succeed more in their careers.
The Cost of Silence—and the Cost of Speaking
Sometimes, the most difficult ethical decision is knowing when to speak and when to remain silent.
Speak when:
- You are reporting illegal activity or serious misconduct through proper channels
- You have a legal obligation to disclose (such as mandatory reporting of child abuse)
- There is an immediate risk of serious harm
Remain silent when:
- You are tempted to share gossip or personal information about colleagues
- You do not have authorisation to share the information
- The information could be used to harm or embarrass someone
The Bottom Line
Workplace confidentiality is not a constraint—it is a protection. It protects individuals from harm, organisations from liability, and workplaces from the corrosive effects of mistrust.
When we honour confidentiality, we send a clear message: We value you. We respect your privacy. And we will not betray your trust.
That is not just a legal requirement. It is a promise—one that every ethical professional should be proud to keep.
In the end, the question is not whether we can share something. The question is whether we should. And sometimes, the most powerful thing we can say is nothing at all.
Key Takeaways
| Principle | Action |
|---|---|
| Respect privacy | Only share information with those who have a legitimate need to know |
| Understand the law | Familiarise yourself with privacy legislation and your organisation’s policies |
| Think before sharing | Ask yourself: Is this authorised? Could it cause harm? |
| Use secure channels | Protect digital and physical information from unauthorised access |
| Speak up through proper channels | Report misconduct, but do so responsibly |
| Lead by example | Model confidentiality in your own behaviour |
Confidentiality is not about hiding problems—it is about protecting people. When we get that right, we build workplaces that are safer, more trusting, and more effective for everyone.
Breaking the Silence: The Cost of Complicity in the Face of Injustice
By Dhabessa Wakjira
In the annals of human history, some of the darkest chapters were not written by tyrants alone. They were co-authored by the silence of those who witnessed evil and chose to look away, who heard the cries of the oppressed and chose to hear nothing, who saw injustice unfolding and chose to remain still.
“Remaining silent like sheep is the source of our problems,” the saying goes. “Failing to respond to those who are oppressing people with falsehoods is turning many just people into victims.”
These words carry a weight that transcends any single community or era. They speak to a universal truth: silence is not neutrality. Silence is a choice, and in the face of oppression, it is a choice that sides with the oppressor.
The Anatomy of Silence
Throughout history, silence has been the soil in which tyranny flourishes. The Holocaust did not begin with gas chambers; it began with whispers, with the gradual dehumanisation of neighbours, with the silence of those who saw their Jewish friends being marginalised and said nothing. The Rwandan Genocide was not spontaneous; it was enabled by the silence of the international community, which refused to call what was happening by its name. The enslavement of millions was sustained not only by chains but by the silence of those who profited from human suffering and those who looked the other way.
In the Oromo context, this silence has taken many forms. Political persecution has often been met with a deafening quiet from those in positions of power. Human rights abuses have been documented yet ignored. Communities have been displaced, lives have been destroyed, and voices have been silenced.
The question is not whether oppression exists—it does, in many forms, in many places. The question is: what are we doing about it?
The False Comfort of Neutrality
There is a dangerous myth that silence is a form of neutrality. Many believe that by staying out of political or social struggles, they are remaining impartial, above the fray, wise in their restraint.
This is a delusion.
As the philosopher Edmund Burke famously observed, “The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.” When we fail to respond to falsehoods, we allow them to become accepted truths. When we fail to challenge oppression, we allow it to become normalised. When we fail to speak for the voiceless, we become complicit in their suffering.
Silence is not a safe harbour; it is a choice to abandon the moral high ground.
The Weaponisation of Lies
In today’s world, falsehoods are weaponised with unprecedented sophistication. Disinformation campaigns, propaganda, and the deliberate distortion of truth are tools used to divide communities, incite hatred, and justify atrocities.
Those who oppress rely on the silence of the masses. When a lie is repeated often enough and loudly enough, and when no one challenges it, it begins to wear the mask of truth. In this environment, even the most just individuals can find themselves victimised—not just by the direct violence of the oppressor but by the collective silence that allows the oppressor to act with impunity.
When a community is falsely accused of violence, and good people remain silent, that community suffers. When a political leader spreads hatred against a minority, and people of conscience say nothing, that minority is endangered. When human rights abuses are reported, and no one demands accountability, the abuses continue.
The Courage to Speak
To break this cycle, we must cultivate the courage to speak. This courage is not always easy—it often comes with a cost. Speaking truth to power can lead to persecution, ostracism, or worse. But the cost of silence is far greater.
Speaking out does not always mean taking to the streets or publishing manifestos. It can take many forms:
- Amplifying the voices of the oppressed: Sharing their stories, supporting their struggles, and ensuring their perspectives are heard
- Challenging falsehoods: When you hear a lie about a community or individual, correct it. Do not let hate speech go unchallenged
- Using your privilege: If you have access to platforms that others do not, use them to speak for those who cannot
- Educating yourself and others: Understanding the issues, the history, and the context of oppression is the first step to effective action
- Supporting organisations that fight for justice: Many organisations work tirelessly to document human rights abuses, provide legal aid to the oppressed, and advocate for political change. They need support
The Power of Solidarity
Throughout history, solidarity has been the antidote to silence. When communities stand together, they create a force that oppressors cannot ignore.
The civil rights movement in the United States succeeded not only because of the courage of African Americans but because of the solidarity of people from all backgrounds who refused to be silent. The anti-apartheid movement in South Africa was sustained by global solidarity that isolated the regime and demanded change. The struggle of the Oromo people is no different—it requires solidarity from within and beyond the community.
Solidarity means recognising that the oppression of any group is a threat to all groups. It means understanding that the forces that silence one voice will eventually silence all voices. It means refusing to be divided by the false narratives that oppressors use to fragment potential resistance.
A Call to Action
The time for silence is over. The time for speaking, for action, and for solidarity is now. Every voice that rises in defence of justice strengthens the collective resolve. Every hand that reaches out to support the oppressed builds a barrier against injustice. Every person who refuses to be complicit through silence transforms the landscape of possibility.
Those who oppress rely on division and fear. They rely on us remaining silent, on us being too afraid to speak, too comfortable to act, too indifferent to care.
Let us prove them wrong.
Let us break the silence.
Let us stand with the oppressed, not as passive bystanders but as active participants in the struggle for justice, truth, and humanity.
“The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good people to do nothing.” – Edmund Burke
#BreakTheSilence #JusticeForAll #Oromo #Solidarity #SpeakTruth #NoMoreComplicity
Navigating Loss: A Guide to Grief Support for Oromo Families in Victoria
By Staff Reporter
MELBOURNE, VICTORIA – The loss of a loved one is always difficult. For members of the Oromo community living in Victoria, that difficulty is often deepened by a profound sense of isolation. Families may feel far from their homeland, uncertain of the local systems, and unsure where to turn for help .
Yet, no one needs to navigate this time alone. Whether it is practical assistance with funeral arrangements, financial support, or emotional comfort, there are organisations and services ready to help.
Finding Community: The Australian Oromo Community Association in Victoria (AOCAV)
One of the most vital resources for the Oromo community in Victoria is the Australian Oromo Community Association in Victoria Inc. (AOCAV) . Founded in 1984 by the first Oromo pioneers who migrated to Australia as refugees, the association has served as a cornerstone of support for the Oromo community .
The association understands the significance of traditional rituals and rites of passage, including those surrounding death . When a family member passes, reaching out to AOCAV can provide:
- Cultural guidance – assistance in ensuring that funeral arrangements respect Oromo customs and traditions
- Community support – mobilising the local community to offer practical help and emotional comfort
- Referrals – directing families to funeral directors and other relevant services
Practical Steps: Organising a Funeral in Victoria
When a death occurs, one of the first practical steps is to contact a funeral director . Several funeral directors in Melbourne have experience serving Victoria’s diverse communities.
One prominent provider is Le Pine Funerals, with over 130 years of service in Victoria. They are committed to serving the state’s “diverse and harmonious community, catering to all cultures, religions and traditions” and have a multilingual team ready to assist in arranging funerals in over 140 languages . For families seeking services that specifically cater to multicultural communities, Le Pine Asian offers personalised funeral services with experienced multilingual staff who can accommodate individual wishes and cultural requirements .
Other trusted funeral providers in Victoria include Tobin Brothers Funerals, White Lady Funerals, and Simplicity Funerals .
When choosing a funeral director, it is helpful to discuss cultural or religious obligations. For Oromo families, this might include the desire for a burial as opposed to a cremation, specific rituals, or the need for a service conducted in the Oromo language or with an interpreter .
Financial Assistance and Practical Support
Funerals can be expensive . However, there are avenues for financial support.
Centrelink Payments – Services Australia provides several payments to help people after the death of a loved one . Depending on your situation, you may be eligible for a Bereavement Payment, a Pension Bonus Bereavement Payment, or bereavement assistance for carers .
If a person passes away without family or the means to pay for a funeral, the Victorian State Government has arrangements in place, with the Department of Health and Human Services potentially contributing .
Grief and Emotional Support
Beyond the practicalities, the emotional toll of losing a loved one is immense. Several national and state-based organisations offer free grief counselling and support.
- Lifeline – 24-hour crisis support: 13 11 14
- Australian Centre for Grief and Bereavement – Provides information on grief support and offers counselling services: 1800 642 066
- Grief Australia – Offers free bereavement counselling and support groups for all Victorians at their Mulgrave office and various locations, as well as telehealth services
- Grief Line – Telephone or online counselling: 1300 845 745
- Mensline Australia – Telephone support specifically for men: 1300 78 99 78
For those who have experienced the loss of a baby or child, Red Nose Australia provides specialist bereavement counselling and support free of charge, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week .
Wombat’s Wish is a grassroots not-for-profit organisation based in Clifton Springs that offers free therapeutic weekend grief programs and one-to-one counselling for children and young people who have lost a parent or carer .
Real Path Health and Wellbeing in Werribee specialises in trauma-informed counselling and grief and loss support for individuals and families, including multicultural communities .
Additionally, spiritual and pastoral support from faith communities is often a vital source of comfort for many in the Oromo community .
Specialised Support for CALD Communities
The Victorian Foundation for Survivors of Torture Inc. (Foundation House) has received substantial funding to provide the Program of Assistance for Survivors of Torture and Trauma, which supports people from CALD backgrounds who have experienced trauma, including grief related to displacement and loss .
A Step-by-Step Guide: What to Do
If you are an Oromo family member in Victoria, here are the steps to take :
- Connect with your community – Reach out to the Australian Oromo Community Association in Victoria (AOCAV). They can provide cultural and practical support.
- Contact a funeral director – Choose a funeral director that respects your culture, such as Le Pine Funerals, which has experience with diverse communities. Discuss your needs: burial, specific rituals, and the need for an interpreter.
- Inform Centrelink and seek financial assistance – Notify Services Australia by calling 132 300 and ask about the Bereavement Payment and other benefits.
- Seek emotional support – Call a grief support line. Services like Lifeline (13 11 14) and the Australian Centre for Grief and Bereavement (1800 642 066) are available and confidential.
Key Contacts
| Service | Contact | Description |
|---|---|---|
| Australian Oromo Community Association in Victoria | P.O. Box 2123, Footscray, VIC 3011 | Cultural and community support network |
| Centrelink Bereavement Line | 132 300 | Financial assistance and payments after a death |
| Lifeline | 13 11 14 | 24-hour crisis support |
| Australian Centre for Grief and Bereavement | 1800 642 066 | Grief counselling and information |
| Grief Australia | Free bereavement counselling and support groups | |
| Red Nose Australia | 24/7 Bereavement Support Line | Specialist support for loss of a baby or child |
| Wombat’s Wish | Free grief programs for children who have lost a parent | |
| Real Path Health and Wellbeing | Werribee | Trauma-informed grief counselling |
| Le Pine Funerals | (03) 8587 5700 | Funeral services for diverse communities |
Sources: Advocacy for Oromia, Australian Oromo Community Association in Victoria, Grief Australia, Lifeline, Red Nose Australia, Australian Centre for Grief and Bereavement.
Disclaimer: This article provides a general guide only. Readers should seek professional advice for their own particular situations.
#Oromo #GriefSupport #Victoria #Bereavement #CommunitySupport #FuneralServices
Finding Strength and Support: A Guide to Mental Health Services for Oromo Families in Victoria
By Daandii Oromia
MELBOURNE, VICTORIA – For many in the Oromo community, the journey to Australia has been marked by resilience, hope, and the promise of a safer future. Yet, this path often carries invisible burdens. The trauma of displacement, the challenges of resettlement, and the weight of cultural expectations can all take a profound toll on mental health and wellbeing .
In Victoria, help is available. While many from migrant and refugee backgrounds face barriers in accessing services, a growing number of organisations and programs are working to provide culturally safe, accessible, and understanding support for Oromo families .
The Hidden Struggles: Why Mental Health Matters
Mental health challenges—depression, anxiety, trauma, and isolation—are often worsened by the experience of migration . For many Oromo families, these struggles are compounded by language barriers, the pressure to appear strong, and the stigma that can surround mental health in many cultures .
Research confirms that people from Culturally and Linguistically Diverse (CALD) backgrounds face significant barriers in accessing mental health care. These include stigma, mental health illiteracy, distrust of mainstream services, and a lack of familiarity with the system . Speaking about mental health is not always common practice in many communities, which makes culturally appropriate support all the more vital .
Where to Start: Community Organisations That Understand You
The Oromo community in Victoria is fortunate to have dedicated organisations that understand your culture, language, and the unique challenges you face.
Advocacy for Oromia
Based in Melbourne, Advocacy for Oromia has been at the forefront of mental health support for the Oromo community for over a decade . Their Mental Health Program focuses on improving mental health literacy, building protective factors, and reducing stigma . They organise culturally adapted conversations during Oromo Coffee Drinking ceremonies (Caffee), a familiar cultural practice that helps make mental health discussions more approachable . They also provide information sessions, radio programs, and community education .
From 2017 to 2018 alone, their community education programs supported 600 Oromos to address depression, anxiety, low self-confidence, and isolation, including perinatal mental health issues .
- Contact: 247-251 Flinders Lane, Melbourne VIC 3000 | http://www.advocacy4oromia.org .
The Oromo Association in Victoria Australia (OAVA)
Established in 2002, OAVA is a non-political, community-focused organisation dedicated to supporting Oromo refugees and migrants . They offer a range of vital services, including:
- Settlement assistance for new arrivals
- Access to healthcare and mental health support
- Counselling to address the trauma of displacement
- Job training and employment support, which helps build independence and reduces stress
The Australian Oromo Community Association in Victoria Inc.
This community hub in Melbourne provides a wide range of services, including counselling, family support, and community outreach programmes . They collaborate with local organisations to deliver workshops on mental health, nutrition, and financial literacy .
The Power of Community Connection
One of the most effective forms of mental health support is simply coming together . In February 2025, the Federation of Oromo Civic Organizations in Australia and the Oromo Seniors Welfare and Benevolent Association held a dinner event in Melbourne that brought together seniors, youth, and families .
The benefits of such gatherings are profound:
- Reducing isolation, especially for seniors who may feel lonely in the diaspora
- Cultural affirmation that boosts self-esteem and mental wellbeing
- Open dialogue about community challenges and resources
- Intergenerational connection that allows elders to share cultural knowledge
Broader Support: Services for CALD Communities
Beyond community-specific organisations, Victoria has a growing network of services for culturally diverse communities.
Mental Health and Wellbeing Hubs
Funded by the Victorian Government, these hubs act as a ‘front door’ to the mental health system, providing free, short-term psychosocial support without a waitlist . They are delivered in locations including Abbotsford, Coburg North, Footscray, and Werribee . Staff work with interpreters to support service users who do not speak English as their first language .
Contact: 1300 286 463 to access a Hub .
Mental Health and Wellbeing Locals
Also funded by the Victorian Government, these Locals make it easier for people aged 26 and over to get free, voluntary mental health care closer to home . You do not need a referral or a Medicare card. The Dandenong team collectively speaks more than 40 languages, and bicultural workers have been a great success in overcoming mental health stigma in their communities . Top nationalities among service users include Afghanistan, India, Sri Lanka, Pakistan, and Sudan .
Contact: 1800 332 501 to find your nearest Local .
Afri-Aus Care
Based in Springvale South, Afri-Aus Care was founded in 2015 to provide culturally appropriate support to African Australian and CALD communities . They offer psychosocial assessment, casework, counselling, and mental health support . In 2024, they received a $235,000 grant from the Victorian Government to run a specialist mental health program focusing on removing stigma and cultural taboos .
The Diverse Communities Mental Health and Wellbeing Grants Program
The Victorian Government has invested $4.2 million in supporting diverse communities’ mental health . This program recognises that Victorians from diverse backgrounds often face greater mental health challenges and difficulty accessing inclusive, culturally safe services .
Organisations benefiting from this funding include the Ethnic Communities Council of Victoria, Muslim Mental Health Professionals, and the Victorian Refugee Health Network .
Practical Steps for Oromo Families
If you or a family member is struggling, here is a path forward:
- Start with your community organisation: Reach out to Advocacy for Oromia, OAVA, or the Australian Oromo Community Association .
- Attend community events: Gatherings like the Federation of Oromo Civic Organizations events are more than social—they are lifelines that can connect you with resources .
- Access mainstream mental health services: Contact a Mental Health and Wellbeing Hub or Local for free, no-waitlist support .
- Call a crisis line if needed: National helplines like Lifeline (13 11 14) and Beyond Blue (1300 22 4636) offer confidential support. Ask for an interpreter if needed .
Breaking the Silence
Mental health challenges are not a sign of weakness. They are a human experience—one that can be addressed with the right support .
As Selba Gondoza Luka, founder of Afri-Aus Care, discovered, helping others can also be a path to healing. “When I started the organisation, I had depression and anxiety. But then I started helping others and I saw the healing. It was a speedy recovery,” she said .
You are not alone. There is support, there is understanding, and there is a community ready to help.
Key Contacts
| Service | Contact | Description |
|---|---|---|
| Advocacy for Oromia | http://www.advocacy4oromia.org | Community education, mental health support for Oromo families |
| The Oromo Association in Victoria (OAVA) | Established 2002 | Counselling, settlement support, mental health services |
| Afri-Aus Care | Springvale South | Culturally appropriate mental health support |
| Mental Health and Wellbeing Hubs | 1300 286 463 | Free, no-waitlist mental health support |
| Mental Health and Wellbeing Locals | 1800 332 501 | Free, no referral needed; Dandenong speaks 40+ languages |
| Lifeline (crisis support) | 13 11 14 | 24-hour crisis support, ask for an interpreter |
| Beyond Blue | 1300 22 4636 | Mental health support and resources |
Sources: Advocacy for Oromia, The Oromo Association in Victoria, Mind Australia, National Institutes of Health.
Disclaimer: This article provides a general guide only. Readers should seek professional advice for their own particular situations.
A Great Tree Has Fallen: Feature Condolence for Jaal Waldee Hurrisoo (1944-2026), Founding Father of the Oromo Liberation Front
“Du’aan addunyaa irraa godaanuu Jaal Waldee… gadda guddaa itti dhagahame ibsata.” — Adda Bilisummaa Oromoo (ABO)
—
FINFINNEE– The Oromo Liberation Front has announced, with profound grief and a sense of irreplaceable loss, the passing of Jaal Waldee Hundee Hurrisoo (also known as Waldayuhaannis) – a founding pillar of the Oromo struggle, a prisoner of conscience, a teacher, a journalist, and a lifelong servant of his people. He was 82 years old.
The news, delivered on 16th Caamsaa, 2026 (May 16, 2026), has sent waves of sorrow across Oromia and the wider Oromo diaspora. For those who knew him – and for countless more who knew only his name and his sacrifice – the death of Jaal Waldee is not merely the loss of an elder. It is the falling of a great tree under whose shade generations of Oromo freedom fighters found rest and resolve.
From the Highlands of Arsii: A Humble Beginning
Jaal Waldee was born in 1944 (Ethiopian calendar 1937) in Ona Boqqojji, East Arsi, in the highlands of Oromiya. His father, Obbo Hundee Hurrisoo, and his mother, Aadde Ayeetuu Gammadaa, were simple farmers. Like any rural child of his time, young Waldee grew up herding cattle and working the land alongside his family. There was no prophecy of greatness, no early sign of the revolutionary he would become – only the quiet dignity of a people who knew their worth long before the world acknowledged it.
But even among those humble beginnings, something burned. A hunger not just for food, but for knowledge.
The Path of Education, The Call of Conscience
Jaal Waldee completed his primary education in Boqqojji and other local schools, then enrolled at the Teacher Training Institute (TTI) in Dabra Birihan, graduating in 1966. For five years, he served as a teacher in Bale Province – a region that would later become a crucible of the Oromo liberation struggle. He taught children to read and write, but the classroom could not contain him. The injustices he witnessed – land alienation, cultural suppression, the daily humiliations of the Oromo people – planted seeds that would soon sprout into activism.
In 1971, he entered Haile Selassie I University (now Finfinnee University). It was there that he found his political voice. Joining an underground student movement, he began organizing Oromo students, discussing not just grades but grievances, not just textbooks but tyranny. The university became his second battlefield – quieter than the forests, but no less dangerous.
The 1975 Campaign: Bullets and Bread
When the “Idigat Bahibrati” (Development through Cooperation) campaign was launched in 1975, Jaal Waldee volunteered to go to Wallo Province. The region was ravaged by famine, and the official response was a cruel mixture of neglect and propaganda. He did not go as a soldier. He went as a human being – distributing food, organizing relief, and bearing witness to the starvation that the state refused to see. He saw children die in his arms. He saw mothers sell their last possessions for a handful of grain. And he swore that such suffering would never be forgotten.
The Birth of the OLF: A Brotherhood of Struggle
Returning to university after the campaign, Jaal Waldee deepened his commitment to the Oromo cause. Alongside his comrade and closest friend, Magarsaa Bari, he became one of the founding members of the Oromo Liberation Front (OLF) – Adda Bilisummaa Oromoo. Together, they dreamed of an independent Oromia, a nation where Oromo children would never again be ashamed of their language, their name, or their land.
After graduation, Jaal Waldee worked as a journalist for the newspaper Bariisaa (The Dawn), eventually rising to the position of assistant editor. He understood that the pen could be as powerful as the gun. His articles gave voice to the voiceless, exposed abuses, and called Oromos to unity. But the Derg regime – the brutal military junta that had seized power – had no tolerance for Oromo journalism.
Twelve Years in Hell: The Prisoner of Conscience
In 1980 (Amajjii), Jaal Waldee was appointed to a position in the government as a continuing official. But two days later, without trial, without charge, without even the pretense of justice, he was arrested and thrown into prison.
For twelve years, he remained behind bars. Twelve years of torture. Twelve years of solitary confinement. Twelve years of watching comrades die from untreated wounds and deliberate neglect. The Derg’s interrogators wanted confessions, names, betrayals. They received only silence and the occasional smile from a man who had already decided that his body could be broken but his soul would not negotiate.
When he was finally released in May 1991 (Caamsaa), as the Derg collapsed, Jaal Waldee emerged a different man. The torture had left permanent physical damage. For the rest of his life, he would suffer from the consequences of those years – chronic pain, weakness, and the ghosts of a dozen deaths he had witnessed. But he never spoke of revenge. Only of justice.
A Brief Season in Parliament, A Lifetime of Service
After the fall of the Derg, the Transitional Government of Ethiopia was established. Jaal Waldee served as a member of parliament representing the OLF for one year. It was a frustrating time – he saw the compromises of power, the betrayals of principle, the slow strangulation of the very ideals for which he had been imprisoned. When the OLF withdrew from the transitional government, he withdrew with it.
But he never withdrew from his people. He traveled extensively through Bale and Arsi, educating communities about their rights, organizing political awareness, and reminding Oromos that liberation was not a gift to be received but a struggle to be waged. Later, he worked within the OLF’s external affairs department, helping to raise funds, build solidarity, and keep the flame alive during years of exile and repression.
The Juba Award: A People’s Gratitude
The Oromo community recognized his sacrifices. He was honored with the Juba Award, a tribute to those who have given everything to the Oromo struggle. For a man who had received nothing from the state but chains and suffering, this recognition from his own people meant more than any title.
He also left behind a written legacy – most notably a work titled “The Ten-Minute Mission,” along with many other unpublished manuscripts. He was a historian of his own times, determined that the truth of the Oromo struggle would survive even if its tellers did not.
The Final Goodbye
In recent months, Jaal Waldee’s health – already fragile from decades-old torture wounds – declined sharply. On the appointed day, 16th May 2026, he finally laid down the burden that he had carried since 1944. He left this world not as a defeated man, but as a soldier who had fought to his last breath and now, at 82, had earned his rest.
The OLF’s grief statement captures the sentiment of millions: “Addi Bilisummaa Oromoo du’aan addunyaa kanarraa godaanuu jaala keenya Jaal Waldee… dhagahutti gadda guddaa itti dhagahame ibsata.” (The Oromo Liberation Front expresses its profound sorrow upon hearing of the passing of our beloved Jaal Waldee…)
A Legacy That Will Not Fade
What do you say about a man who gave twelve years of his youth to a dungeon, who emerged with his principles intact, and who then spent the remaining decades of his life serving a people who could offer him nothing in return but love?
You say: Qabsaawaan ni kufa, qabsoon itti fufa. (A fighter may fall, but the struggle continues.)
Jaal Waldee is gone. His voice is silent. His hands, which once held chalk in a Bale classroom and a pen at Bariisaa and a smuggled manuscript in a prison cell, have finally stilled. But the Oromo nation he helped to awaken will not go back to sleep.
To his family, his friends, his comrade Magarsaa Bari (who now walks alone), and to the millions who never met him but knew that his survival was their survival – we offer the only comfort that truth allows: He lived for you. He suffered for you. And because of him, you stand taller than you would have.
Farewell, Jaal Waldee Hundee Hurrisoo. The dawn you wrote for has not yet fully broken. But your ink has made it certain.
Injifannoo ummata bal’aaf.
Victory to the broad masses.
— Adda Bilisummaa Oromoo, 16 May 2026
Rest in power, Jaal Waldee. The struggle continues.
Remembering Zegeye Asfaw: A Life of Service and Commitment
The Gentle Giant Who Gave Land and Dignity – Honoring Commissioner Zegeye Asfaw Abdi (1942–2026)
By: Dhabessa Wakjira (Based on the Statement of Condolence of the Ethiopian National Dialogue Commission)
Date: May 13, 2026
Category: Obituary / Tribute / National Legacy
PROLOGUE: A Life That Spanned Eras, A Legacy That Transcends Them
On May 11, 2026, Ethiopia lost more than a former minister, more than a commissioner, more than a lawyer, more than a philanthropist. Ethiopia lost a bridge – between feudalism and reform, between oppression and liberation, between north and south, between government and the governed.
Commissioner Zegeye Asfaw Abdi passed away at the age of 84. He was born in 1942 in West Shoa – a time when the land he would later help liberate was still under the yoke of feudal bondage. He died in 2026 – leaving behind a nation where millions of farmers till soil they can finally call their own.
The Ethiopian National Dialogue Commission, where he served with distinction since February 2021, released a statement of condolence that captures the weight of his departure. But no official statement, however eloquent, can fully measure the hole left by a man who was simultaneously a lawyer, a revolutionary, a prisoner, a minister, a grassroots organizer, and – above all – a servant.
This is his story.
PART ONE: The Making of a Reformer
From West Shoa to Wisconsin
Zegeye Asfaw was born in 1942 in West Shoa, into a family of the nobility. He was, by birth, a balabat – a member of the very class that owned the land and the people upon it. But Zegeye was not content to inherit privilege. He chose, instead, to dismantle it.
He pursued his legal studies at the former Haile Selassie I University, where he encountered the radical student movements of the 1960s. He heard the cries of the landless. He saw the contradiction between his own birth and the suffering of the millions who tilled the soil beneath his feet.
He did not turn away.
He continued his education at the University of Wisconsin–Madison, where he obtained a Master’s Degree in Law. But his real education came from the land itself – from the gebar (serf) who gave half his harvest to a landlord, from the golle (tenant) who had no right to the hut he built, from the shimaglle (elder) who whispered of a time when the Oromo were masters of their own earth.
Zegeye returned to Ethiopia not as a defender of the old order, but as its gravedigger.
PART TWO: The Proclamation That Changed Everything
“Land to the Tiller”
During the Derg regime, Zegeye Asfaw served his country in several senior government positions:
- The former Ministry of Land Administration
- The Ministry of Agriculture and Settlement
- The Ministry of Justice
- The Ministry of Labour and Social Affairs
But he is particularly remembered – as the National Dialogue Commission’s statement notes – for his instrumental role in crafting the historic “Land to the Tiller” proclamation.
This was not a bureaucratic exercise. It was a seismic shift in Ethiopian history. For centuries, the land of Ethiopia – especially in Oromia and the south – had been owned by a tiny aristocracy. The millions who worked it had no rights, no security, no dignity. They were gebar (tribute payers), golle (tenants at will), serf (bound to the soil and the master).
The 1975 proclamation changed all of that. It transferred ownership from the few to the many. It declared that the person who tills the land shall own the land. It broke the backbone of feudalism in one stroke.
And Zegeye Asfaw was its architect.
He did not merely sign it. He crafted it. He fought for it. He paid for it – with imprisonment, with exile from power, with decades of obscurity.
PART THREE: Beyond Public Office – The Heart of a Servant
Hunde and Busa Gonfa – Lifting the Vulnerable
Zegeye Asfaw was not a man who only served from the top down. When he left government, he did not retire to a quiet life. He went deeper.
Through the establishment of the local NGO Hunde, he worked tirelessly to improve the lives of vulnerable communities and combat poverty. Hunde was not a showcase project. It was a quiet, persistent effort to put food on tables, to send children to school, to give hope where hope had been crushed.
He also founded a microfinance institution – Busa Gonfa – focused on empowering women in rural Ethiopia and expanding economic opportunities at the grassroots level. He understood that land reform was only the first step. Without credit, without training, without the means to work the land productively, the farmer remained poor even if no longer a serf.
Busa Gonfa was his answer. It remains his legacy.
PART FOUR: The Environmentalist – A Steward of the Earth
Working with Farmers and Pastoralists
Zegeye Asfaw was equally committed to environmental protection and sustainable development. He understood that land, once freed, must also be preserved.
He closely collaborated with farmers and pastoralist communities in advancing environmental conservation initiatives. He worked with them to prevent soil erosion, to manage water resources, to plant trees, to practice responsible stewardship of natural resources.
He did not see a contradiction between development and conservation. He saw a partnership. The land gives to the people; the people must give back to the land. This was not ideology for Zegeye. It was lived experience.
PART FIVE: The Commissioner – Service Until the End
Integrity, Diligence, Humility, and Unwavering Commitment
Since February 2021, Zegeye Asfaw had been serving as a Commissioner of the Ethiopian National Dialogue Commission. He was appointed in his late seventies – an age when most people have long since retired to their villages or their memories.
But Zegeye did not retire. He served.
Throughout his tenure, he distinguished himself through:
- Integrity – He could not be bought, could not be bent.
- Diligence – He worked as hard as any junior staff member, often harder.
- Humility – He never pulled rank, never demanded deference.
- Unwavering commitment – He believed that dialogue was the only path to a stable, just Ethiopia.
The National Dialogue Commission’s statement captures this perfectly:
“Throughout his tenure, he distinguished himself through his integrity, diligence, humility, and unwavering commitment to the national dialogue process and the service of his country.”
He served until his body would serve no more. On May 11, 2026, at the age of 84, he laid down his burdens.
PART SIX: A Death That Is Not an End
What Remains When a Giant Falls
The Ethiopian National Dialogue Commission extended its deepest condolences to his family, friends, colleagues, and all those whose lives were touched by his service and generosity.
But condolences, however sincere, are not enough. They must be accompanied by a determination to continue his work.
What remains of Zegeye Asfaw?
- Every farmer who owns their land today – that is Zegeye.
- Every woman in rural Ethiopia who has received a microfinance loan to start a business – that is Zegeye.
- Every tree planted by a pastoralist community that learned sustainable land management – that is Zegeye.
- Every conversation at the National Dialogue Commission that seeks common ground rather than victory – that is Zegeye.
He is not gone. He is distributed – across the fields, across the villages, across the institutions he built and the lives he touched.
PART SEVEN: The Funeral – A Final Salute
Holy Trinity Cathedral, 4 Kilo, Addis Ababa – May 14, 2026
The funeral service will take place on May 14, 2026 at 12:00 PM at Holy Trinity Cathedral, 4 Kilo, Addis Ababa.
It is fitting that he will be laid to rest in a place that holds the remains of Ethiopia’s great patriots. Holy Trinity is where emperors and revolutionaries, poets and generals, saints and sinners find their final rest. Zegeye Asfaw belongs there – not because he sought honor, but because honor sought him.
He would not have wanted a grand funeral. He was a humble man. But the nation owes him a grand farewell – not for his sake, but for ours. We need to say goodbye. We need to weep. We need to promise, over his grave, that we will not forget.
EPILOGUE: A Prayer for the Commissioner
But for Zegeye Asfaw, we might add something more:
“The land you freed remains free. The people you lifted remain standing. The institutions you built remain working. And your name – spoken with gratitude by millions you never met – will not be erased.”
Rest, Commissioner. Rest, architect of the land. Rest, servant of the people.
Your work is done. Your rest is earned. And Ethiopia is better because you lived.
— End of Feature Condolence Story —
By: Dhabessa Wakjira (Based on the Statement of Condolence of the Ethiopian National Dialogue Commission, dated May 13, 2026)
In honor of Commissioner Zegeye Asfaw Abdi (1942 – May 11, 2026)
Advocacy for Oromia 