Category Archives: Oromo truth telling
Irreechaa: The Festival That Renews Humanity, Reconciles Creation, and Reclaims Time Itself

In the Oromo language, nineteen sacred phrases capture the full magnitude of Irreechaa — a celebration that is not merely cultural but cosmic, not merely annual but eternal, not merely human but divine.
Beneath the sycamores, beside the sacred waters, a people gather to become whole — and to remind the universe what wholeness means.
A Litany of Renewal
There are sentences that function as scripture. The Oromo people have such a sentence about Irreechaa:
“Irreechaan humneessaa namummaa, lachiisaa namummaa, marabeessaa namummaa, nageessaa namummaa, araarsaa namummaa, waloomsaa uumaa-uumamaa, sirna galateeffannaa, yaadannoo uumamaa, hulluuqoo hameenyaa, mallattoo ulfoo, yeroo dhiifamaa, ce’umsaa baraa, damboobsaa namummaa, fooyyessaa namummaa, fufsiisaa namummaa, fineessaa namummaa, guutessaa namummaa, kadhannaa gaarummaa, fi haaromsaa namummaa ti.”
This is not a description. It is a declaration. It is the Oromo people’s theological testimony about what Irreechaa is — not what it symbolizes, not what it represents, but what it accomplishes in the world.
Nineteen phrases. Nineteen dimensions of one reality. Nineteen ways of saying: Irreechaa renews humanity, reconciles creation, and reclaims time itself.

Part One: The Renewal of Humanity
The first five phrases focus on the human person — what Irreechaa does to the individual soul.
Humneessaa Namummaa — The Empowerment of Humanity
Irreechaan humneessaa namummaa. Irreechaa is the empowering of humanity.
Before the festival, participants are asked to reconcile. They set aside grudges. They release resentment. This is not weakness — it is the most difficult form of strength. To forgive is to be liberated from the prison of grievance.
The person who has made peace is not just morally superior. They are empowered. They have reclaimed energy that was being spent on resentment. They stand at the water’s edge lighter, freer, more capable of gratitude.
This is the first renewal: the empowerment that comes from letting go.

Lachiisaa Namummaa — The Reconciliation of Humanity
Irreechaan lachiisaa namummaa. Irreechaa is the reconciling of humanity.
This is Irreechaa’s beating heart. Without araara — reconciliation — the festival cannot proceed. The tradition is explicit: you cannot participate while holding a grudge. The water will not receive your thanks if your heart is still at war.
In a world that profits from division, this requirement is revolutionary. Irreechaa says: Before you celebrate, reconcile. Before you give thanks, make peace. Before you approach the sacred, heal the human relationships that have been broken.
The Oromo do not pretend that reconciliation is easy. They simply insist that the work of peace must be done — deliberately, consciously, before the community gathers.

Marabeessaa Namummaa — The Unification of Humanity
Irreechaan marabeessaa namummaa. Irreechaa is the unifying of humanity.
Millions arrive from across Ethiopia, from the diaspora, from every walk of life. Farmers and professors. Mothers and students. Elders and children. Muslims and Christians and practitioners of the old faith. They dress in white — a sea of unity that visually overwhelms the eye.
But the unification is not mere numbers. It is spiritual. It is the experience of dissolving the boundaries that separate human beings from one another. For one day, the Oromo people are not many. They are one.
This is tokkummaa — unity — and it is not an abstract ideal. It is a lived experience at the water’s edge. The person standing beside you is not a stranger. They are your brother. They are your sister. They are yourself.

Nageessaa Namummaa — The Peace-Bringing of Humanity
Irreechaan nageessaa namummaa. Irreechaa is the peace-bringing of humanity.
The Oromo greeting for the festival is “Baga Irreechaa nagaan geessan” — May the Irreechaa arrive in peace. This is not a casual wish. It is a declaration of intent.
Irreechaa does not merely celebrate peace. It produces it. The festival is a peace-making technology, an ancient ritual that creates the conditions for harmony between individuals, communities, and the divine.
Consider what happens when millions of people gather in a single place and commit, together, to reconciliation. Consider what happens when a nation’s largest cultural event is built on the requirement that participants set aside their conflicts. Peace is not the absence of conflict. It is the presence of araara. And Irreechaa makes that presence visible, tangible, and real.

Araarsaa Namummaa — The Forgiveness of Humanity
Irreechaan araarsaa namummaa. Irreechaa is the forgiving of humanity.
Araara is the Oromo word for reconciliation, but it carries a deeper meaning: the restoration of relationship, the healing of rupture, the return to wholeness. At Irreechaa, forgiveness is not a suggestion. It is a prerequisite.
The person who comes to the water carrying resentment is not participating in Irreechaa. They are merely present. True participation requires the internal work of forgiveness — the decision to release the debt, to let go of the grievance, to choose relationship over righteousness.
This is the fifth renewal: the forgiveness that makes all other renewal possible.

Part Two: The Reconciliation of Creation
The next several phrases expand beyond the human person to encompass the entire created order.
Waloomsaa Uumaa-Uumamaa — The Harmony of Creation
Irreechaan waloomsaa uumaa-uumamaa. Irreechaa is the harmonizing of creation.
The Oromo understanding of Irreechaa is not limited to human community. The festival reconciles the entire cosmos — uumaa (the Creator) and uumamaa (creation) — in a single act of thanksgiving.
When the Oromo gather at the water, they are not just repairing human relationships. They are restoring the primal harmony between the divine, the human, and the natural. The water is sacred. The grass is sacred. The sky, the earth, the trees, the animals — all are participants in the festival.
This is waloomaa — harmony — and it is the original condition of creation. Irreechaa returns what was broken to what it was meant to be.

Sirna Galateeffannaa — The Order of Thanksgiving
Irreechaan sirna galateeffannaa. Irreechaa is the order of thanksgiving.
Sirna means order, system, institution, ceremony. Irreechaa is not spontaneous emotion. It is structured ritual — a carefully preserved system of thanksgiving that has been practiced for thousands of years.
The Gadaa system organizes Oromo society by age grades, each with defined responsibilities. Irreechaa is woven into this system. It is not just a festival. It is an institution — a sirna — that orders the relationship between the human community and the divine.
Thanksgiving, in Oromo cosmology, is not optional. It is the fundamental posture of the creature toward the Creator. To give thanks is to acknowledge reality: that we did not create ourselves, that we depend on forces beyond our control, that life is a gift.

Yaadannoo Uumamaa — The Memory of Creation
Irreechaan yaadannoo uumamaa. Irreechaa is the memory of creation.
Yaadannoo means memorial, remembrance, commemoration. At Irreechaa, the Oromo people remember not just the harvest of the past year but the creation of the world itself.
This is sacred memory — not nostalgia, not sentimentality, but the deliberate act of recalling what is fundamental. The Oromo remember that they are creatures. They remember that the earth is sacred. They remember that water is the source of life. They remember that gratitude is the proper response to existence.
In a modern world that so often forgets the sacred, Irreechaa is a collective act of remembrance. It says: We have not forgotten who we are. We have not forgotten where we came from. We have not forgotten what we owe.

Hulluuqoo Hameenyaa — The Rejection of Evil
Irreechaan hulluuqoo hameenyaa. Irreechaa is the rejection of evil.
Hulluuqoo means that which is rejected, refused, cast out. Hameenyaa means evil, wickedness, malice. Irreechaa is not just the affirmation of good. It is the explicit rejection of evil.
At the water’s edge, the Oromo people collectively renounce the forces that destroy human community: hatred, jealousy, greed, violence, deception. They name these forces and cast them out. They declare that these things have no place in the renewed humanity they are creating.
This is spiritual warfare — not against flesh and blood, but against the principalities and powers that corrupt the human heart. And it is fought not with weapons but with water, grass, and words of prayer.

Mallattoo Ulfoo — The Sign of Love
Irreechaan mallattoo ulfoo. Irreechaa is the sign of love.
Ulfoo means love, compassion, mercy. Irreechaa is not just a festival of gratitude. It is a sign — a visible, tangible, public demonstration — of divine love.
The Oromo believe that Waaqa (God) loves humanity. The rains come. The harvest arrives. The sun returns after the darkness. These are not accidents of nature. They are expressions of divine love.
And Irreechaa is the human response to that love. It is the sign that the relationship is mutual. God gives; the people give thanks. God loves; the people love in return.

Part Three: The Reclamation of Time
The next phrases focus on Irreechaa’s relationship to time itself — its power to forgive the past, transform the present, and renew the future.
Yeroo Dhiifamaa — The Time of Forgiveness
Irreechaan yeroo dhiifamaa. Irreechaa is the time of forgiveness.
Yeroo means time, season, moment. Dhiifamaa means forgiveness, pardon, release. Irreechaa is not just a festival. It is a time — a specific, sacred season set apart for the work of forgiveness.
In the rhythm of the Oromo year, Irreechaa is the moment when the community pauses and says: Now is the time to make peace. Now is the time to release grievances. Now is the time to forgive.
This is the ritualization of forgiveness. It is not left to chance or whim. It is scheduled. It is expected. It is required.

Ce’umsaa Baraa — The Turning of the Year
Irreechaan ce’umsaa baraa. Irreechaa is the turning of the year.
Ce’umsaa means transition, passage, crossing over. Irreechaa marks the turning point of the year — the end of the rainy season Ganna and the beginning of spring Birraa. It is a threshold, a liminal moment between what was and what will be.
At this threshold, the old year dies and the new year is born. The mistakes of the past are released. The possibilities of the future are welcomed. The community stands at the hinge of time and chooses to move forward.
This is ce’umsaa baraa — the turning of the year. And it is not just a calendar event. It is a spiritual one.

Damboobsaa Namummaa — The Restoration of Humanity
Irreechaan damboobsaa namummaa. Irreechaa is the restoring of humanity.
The rainy season destroys. Rivers swell. Roads wash out. Crops are lost. The land itself seems to be in mourning.
Then the rains end. The sun returns. The harvest begins. The people gather at the water to give thanks.
Irreechaa is the celebration after the suffering. It is the moment when the community pauses and says: We made it through. We survived. We are still here.
This is restoration — not the erasure of hardship, but the transformation of hardship into gratitude. The floods came, and we endured. The darkness came, and we waited. The sun returned, and we give thanks.

Part Four: The Perfection of Humanity
The final phrases describe Irreechaa’s ultimate purpose: the perfection of the human person and community.
Fooyyessaa Namummaa — The Improvement of Humanity
Irreechaan fooyyessaa namummaa. Irreechaa is the improving of humanity.
Irreechaa is not content with survival. It seeks flourishing. The festival is not merely about maintaining what exists but about becoming more than you were.
Fooyya’uu means progress, development, growth. The person who participates in Irreechaa is not the same person who entered the festival. They have been improved — refined by the discipline of reconciliation, elevated by the experience of unity, deepened by the practice of gratitude.

Fufsiisaa Namummaa — The Fulfillment of Humanity
Irreechaan fufsiisaa namummaa. Irreechaa is the fulfilling of humanity.
There is a deep longing in the human heart for completion — for the sense that life is not fragmented, that it has meaning, that it is going somewhere. Irreechaa answers that longing.
At the water’s edge, surrounded by millions of people who share your language, your faith, your hope, you experience a sense of completeness that modern life so often denies. You are not alone. You are not meaningless. You are part of something larger than yourself.

Fineessaa Namummaa — The Refinement of Humanity
Irreechaan fineessaa namummaa. Irreechaa is the refining of humanity.
Water is the medium of purification. At Irreechaa, participants dip sacred grass into the water and sprinkle it upon themselves and others. The Kormoomsaa — the blessing of the young men — cleanses and consecrates.
The refinement Irreechaa offers is the refinement of character. At the water’s edge, the layers of resentment, pride, and grievance are stripped away. What remains is the essential human being — vulnerable, grateful, connected, at peace.

Guutessaa Namummaa — The Completion of Humanity
Irreechaan guutessaa namummaa. Irreechaa is the completing of humanity.
There is a difference between fulfillment and completion. Fulfillment is the experience of meaning. Completion is the achievement of wholeness. Irreechaa offers both.
The festival completes the cycle of the year. It completes the work of reconciliation. It completes the process of purification. It completes the community — bringing together all its members, from the youngest child to the oldest elder.
At Irreechaa, nothing is left out. No one is excluded. The festival is guutuu — complete, full, entire. The sea of white garments is not just a visual image. It is a theological statement: this is what wholeness looks like.

Kadhannaa Gaarummaa — The Prayer of Goodness
Irreechaan kadhannaa gaarummaa. Irreechaa is the prayer of goodness.
Kadhannaa means prayer, supplication, petition. Gaarummaa means goodness, virtue, excellence. Irreechaa is not just a festival of the past. It is a prayer for the future.
At the water’s edge, the Oromo people pray for goodness — for themselves, for their families, for their communities, for their nation, for the world. They ask Waaqa to make them good, to keep them good, to use them for good.
This is the prayer that summarizes all the others. It is the request that the renewal that has begun at Irreechaa will continue throughout the year.

Haaromsaa Namummaa — The Renewal of Humanity
Irreechaan haaromsaa namummaa. Irreechaa is the renewing of humanity.
And so we arrive at the final phrase — the culmination of all the others.
Empowerment leads to reconciliation. Reconciliation leads to unity. Unity brings peace. Peace enables forgiveness. Forgiveness restores creation. Creation remembers its Creator. Evil is rejected. Love is affirmed. Time is redeemed. Humanity is restored, improved, fulfilled, refined, completed. And then — haaromsaa namummaa — humanity is renewed.
Irreechaa is not just a festival. It is a process — a spiritual technology that takes human beings as they are and transforms them into what they can become. It takes fractured people and makes them whole. It takes divided communities and makes them one. It takes a broken world and makes it new.
This is what the Oromo people have known for thousands of years. This is what they celebrate at the water’s edge every year. This is what they offer to Ethiopia, to Africa, and to the world.

The Full Testimony
Let us read the sentence again — the full sentence — and hear it now with understanding:
“Irreechaan humneessaa namummaa, lachiisaa namummaa, marabeessaa namummaa, nageessaa namummaa, araarsaa namummaa, waloomsaa uumaa-uumamaa, sirna galateeffannaa, yaadannoo uumamaa, hulluuqoo hameenyaa, mallattoo ulfoo, yeroo dhiifamaa, ce’umsaa baraa, damboobsaa namummaa, fooyyessaa namummaa, fufsiisaa namummaa, fineessaa namummaa, guutessaa namummaa, kadhannaa gaarummaa, fi haaromsaa namummaa ti.”
Irreechaa is the empowering of humanity, the reconciling of humanity, the unifying of humanity, the peace-bringing of humanity, the forgiving of humanity, the harmonizing of creation, the order of thanksgiving, the memory of creation, the rejection of evil, the sign of love, the time of forgiveness, the turning of the year, the restoring of humanity, the improving of humanity, the fulfilling of humanity, the refining of humanity, the completing of humanity, the prayer of goodness, and the renewing of humanity.
This is not poetry. This is testimony. This is the Oromo people’s declaration of what Irreechaa does in the world.
Humanity can be renewed. Not through politics or economics or technology alone, but through the ancient practices of reconciliation, gratitude, purification, and community. Not through grand ideological projects, but through the simple, profound act of gathering at the water with your people, setting down your grudges, and giving thanks.
Irreechaa is the renewal of humanity. And it happens every year, at the water’s edge, one person at a time.

Baga Irreechaa Nagaan Geessan
The Oromo greeting says it all:
Baga Irreechaa nagaan geessan.
May the Irreechaa arrive in peace.
May the festival be empowering, reconciling, unifying, peace-bringing, forgiving, harmonizing, thanksgiving, memorial, rejecting of evil, sign of love, time of forgiveness, turning of the year, restoring, improving, fulfilling, refining, completing, prayerful, and renewing of humanity.
May the waters receive your gratitude.
May the grass carry your prayers.
May the nation, like the earth after the rains, emerge greener and stronger than before.
And may you — and all of us — be renewed.

#Irreechaa #Oromia #Ethiopia #RenewalOfHumanity #HaaromsaaNamummaa #PeaceAndReconciliation #Thanksgiving #KadhannaaGaarummaa

photos credit: OBN
The Poisoned Feast: The Unbroken Spirit of Jaal Daawud Ibsaa

A Feature Article on Sacrifice, Betrayal, and the Silence That Defeated Torture
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In the annals of the Oromo national struggle, certain stories refuse to fade. They are passed down not through official archives but through whispered testimonies, through the memories of those who survived, and through the written records of security officials who once sought to erase them. One such story belongs to Jaal Daawud Ibsaa, a name that resonates in the Horro Guduruu heartland and beyond—a man whose journey from student activist to underground fighter to silent prisoner embodies the most harrowing dimensions of resistance.
This account draws from a security report authored by Nugusee Fantaa, head of the Wollega administrative security, and Tasfaayee W/Sillasee, head of Information and National Security, as documented by journalist Abbaa Duulaa Gammada. The journalist himself was granted unusual access, recalling that when he sought to research this history, the security archives of both the Derg’s peace and wartime offices were opened to him. “Abbaa Duulaa told me,” the journalist recounts, “‘You are the only one who has ever asked me to research this story.'”
Roots of Resistance
Jaal Daawud Ibsaa was born in Horro Guduruu, in the western highlands of Oromia. Like many young Oromos of his generation, he pursued education with determination, attending Wingate—the same institution that shaped Mallas Zeenaawii, a student two years his senior. Daawud then entered Kilo 4 University, where he studied statistics. But his formal name tells only part of the story: while the struggle knew him as Daawud, his family called him Firew—a detail preserved in the security records that now serve as historical testimony.
His political consciousness crystallized during the student movements of the early Derg years. For two years, he was imprisoned for his involvement in student activism. Upon his release, he did not retreat. Instead, he joined the underground armed struggle of the ONLF—the Oromo National Liberation Front—immersing himself in a movement that would define the rest of his short life.
The Seventeen Who Crossed the Border
In 1968, when the ONLF elected its central committee of twenty-eight members, Daawud was among those chosen. Three years later, in 1971, the Front made a strategic decision to expand its armed operations into western Ethiopia. Jaal Daawud and Abbaa Caalaa Lataa were appointed to lead and coordinate the western struggle. In total, seventeen fighters—most from the Wallagga and Beegii regions—crossed the Sudanese border to begin operations.
The Derg regime took notice. The suppression of this western ONLF initiative became a priority, with officials including Gidaamii district chief Hiikaa Masaadii and Wollega provincial administrator Nugusee Fantaa devising plans to crush the movement.
Among the seventeen fighters was Obboleessi Zakkaariyaas Shoroo, a native of the region. The security apparatus saw in him a tool for betrayal. Zakkaariyaas was summoned and given his orders: “Feed your brother and his comrades. We will supply you with poison to add to the food. If you refuse, you and your family will be killed, your property confiscated, your land taken, your livestock seized.”
Zakkaariyaas recoiled. “How can I kill my own brother?”
The response was cold and absolute: “If you can, separate your brother so he does not eat. If you cannot—then let them die together.” The security report notes that Zakkaariyaas, under duress, eventually agreed.
The Feast
The fighters, dressed in peasant clothing to blend into the countryside, had gathered in the area. Zakkaariyaas was watched to ensure he did not falter. The poison, sent from Finfinnee through Nugusee Fantaa to Hiikaa Masaadii, was passed to Zakkaariyaas.
On the evening of the planned betrayal, Zakkaariyaas slaughtered a sheep and prepared a feast, claiming to honor his brother and comrades. The seventeen ONLF fighters had split into two groups; Abbaa Caalaa was moving with nine men in another direction, and thus was not present at the meal. But Daawud and the remaining fighters accepted Zakkaariyaas’s invitation and gathered at his home that evening.
Zakkaariyaas could not bring himself to separate his brother. “You will eat later,” he urged. But Daawud refused and joined the meal. As his brother and comrades ate the poisoned food, Zakkaariyaas stood by, trembling, watching.
Daawud ate only a little. When he finished, he rose and went to the door to relieve the comrade who had been standing guard. The others continued eating. Then the convulsions began. Their bodies burned as if on fire. Screams filled the night as one by one they collapsed. Zakkaariyaas clutched his brother’s corpse to his chest.
Daawud had eaten less, but the poison did not spare him. Standing guard outside, he drank large quantities of water, then began convulsing, vomiting blood and bile. The pain in his stomach was unbearable. Yet he did not fall where he stood—he staggered back inside and collapsed among his fallen comrades in Zakkaariyaas’s compound.
Survival and Silence
The fighters in peasant disguise, waiting for the signal, arrived at Zakkaariyaas’s house as planned. They found seven comrades dead—and Daawud, gravely ill but still breathing.
He was rushed toward Dambidoolloo, then to Naqamte, as the ONLF sought both to extract intelligence and to save his life. But the Derg’s security apparatus had other plans. At Naqamte, once he had partially recovered, he was transferred to prison and the beatings began.
The Wollega security report is explicit: no intelligence was ever extracted from Jaal Daawud. Unable to break him through interrogation, they transferred him to Ma’ikelawwii Prison in Finfinnee. There, he was placed in a container filled with benzene and dirty water as interrogation intensified. The report details repeated searches and various forms of torture applied to him.
Daawud chose death over betrayal. Not a single word of intelligence escaped his lips. He endured until the end, and then he passed—unbroken, unbroken in spirit, unbroken in loyalty to the cause he had embraced as a student and carried to his final breath.
The Meaning of Nyaata Summaa’ee
The story of Daawud Ibsaa and the poisoned feast is more than a historical account of betrayal and heroism. It is a meditation on the impossible choices that colonial and authoritarian regimes force upon communities. Zakkaariyaas was not a willing traitor; he was a man crushed between the love of his brother and the threat to his family, his land, his very existence. The regime understood that the most effective weapons are not always guns—sometimes they are the bonds of kinship turned into instruments of destruction.
And yet, in the figure of Daawud Ibsaa, the story offers something else: the possibility of a fidelity that cannot be purchased, tortured, or poisoned away. He ate the food, drank the water, endured the benzene, and carried his secrets to the grave.
The security report that documents these events was never meant to celebrate him. It was meant to record the success of a suppression campaign. But in recording the methods of his torturers, it inadvertently preserved the evidence of his resistance. The archive of oppression became, in the end, a monument to the oppressed.
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This article is based on the security report authored by Nugusee Fantaa and Tasfaayee W/Sillasee, as documented by journalist.
How to celebrate Irreechaa in Australia?

Celebrating Irreechaa in Australia means participating in a vibrant, adapted version of the traditional Oromo thanksgiving festival. While the core spiritual intent remains the same—giving thanks to Waaqa (God) for blessings and renewal—the setting and specific activities are tailored to the Australian environment and the needs of the diaspora community.
The celebrations are primarily organized by community associations and the non-profit Irrecha Australia, with major events held in cities like Melbourne.

📍 Where and When to Celebrate in Australia
The location is chosen to reflect the traditional importance of nature and water in Irreechaa. In Australia, this often means gathering at parks with lakes, rivers, or scenic natural settings.
- Common Locations: In Melbourne, past celebrations have been held at Wilson Botanic Park in Berwick, Dandenong Mountain (Tulluu Dandenong), and Footscray Park.
- Timing: The festival is typically celebrated in September or October for Irreechaa Malkaa (the main thanksgiving at the water’s edge), and sometimes in April for Irreechaa Arfaasaa (a spring celebration).

🌿 How to Participate: Key Activities and Rituals
Participating in Irreechaa in Australia involves engaging in both traditional rituals and communal cultural activities.
- Wear Traditional Attire: Attendees are strongly encouraged to wear traditional Oromo clothing. The vibrant colors and styles are a visual statement of cultural pride and identity, especially for younger generations.
- Join the Blessing and Prayer: The event typically begins with blessings and prayers led by community elders. These blessings focus on peace, prosperity, and remembering those who sustained the tradition.
- Participate in Symbolic Rituals: Follow the tradition of carrying and dipping fresh green grass and yellow flowers into water (if available at the venue) as a symbol of gratitude, purification, and renewal.
- Enjoy Cultural Performances and Food: The celebration features traditional Oromo music, songs, and dances (such as the Siiqqee and Gumii dances). It is also a time to share communal meals with traditional Oromo food.
- Connect with Community: Irreechaa in Australia is a vital social event. It is a time for the diaspora to unite, strengthen bonds, and for younger generations to learn about their heritage from elders.

🤝 A Note on Inclusivity
While Irreechaa has deep spiritual roots in Waaqeffannaa (the traditional Oromo faith), the celebrations in Australia are also cultural festivals that welcome everyone. Organizers often invite local government officials, multicultural organizations, and curious residents to foster mutual respect and intercultural exchange. As one attendee noted, it is a unifying cultural practice that transcends religious boundaries.

💡 Practical Tips for Attendees
- Check for Event Details: Look for announcements from Irrecha Australia or local Oromo community associations on social media for the exact date, time, and location of the next event in your city.
- Respect the Environment: Organizers emphasize the importance of respecting the natural surroundings and leaving no waste behind, reflecting the core Oromo value of caring for nature.
- Bring What’s Needed: Some event notices suggest bringing water, flowers (for the ritual), and a spirit of gratitude.
In essence, celebrating Irreechaa in Australia is about actively participating in a living tradition that adapts to a new home while staying true to its core values of gratitude, community, and cultural pride.

THE RAINS HAVE CEASED, THE FLOWERS BLOOM: CELEBRATING IRREECHAA, THE OROMO THANKSGIVING

By Dhabessa Wakjira
In the highlands of Ethiopia, where the skies weep for months on end and the earth turns to mud, there comes a sacred morning when the clouds finally part. The sun, a golden orb of promise, kisses the damp grass, and a new season is born. This is the moment of Birraa—the spring—and for the Oromo people, it is a time to pause, breathe, and pour out their hearts in gratitude.
This is the spirit of Irreechaa, a festival that transcends mere celebration. It is the Oromo Thanksgiving, a profound spiritual and cultural touchstone that marks the end of the punishing rainy season and the beginning of a season of renewal, peace, and hope.
Held annually at the end of September or the beginning of October, Irreechaa is not a quiet affair of private reflection. It is a magnificent, vibrant explosion of life. Thousands, dressed in dazzling traditional attire, converge on sacred rivers, lakes, and hilltops. The air hums with the rhythm of drums, the melodic chants of elders, and the joyous ululations of the crowd. In their hands, they hold the symbols of the season: lush green grass and delicate yellow daisies, emblems of fertility, flourishing life, and the promise of a bountiful year.
The Heart of the Festival: Giving Thanks to Waaqa
At its core, Irreechaa is a dialogue with the divine. The Oromo people lift their prayers to Waaqa (God), offering thanks not for material wealth alone, but for the bedrock of their existence: a good harvest that fills the granaries, the health of their precious livestock, and the most precious gift of all—peace. It is a recognition that survival through the harsh, dark months was not by human effort alone, but by divine mercy.
“We come to the water to wash away our sorrows and our grudges,” explains an elder during a recent ceremony at Lake Hora Arsadi, near Addis Ababa. “The rain has stopped. Now, we cleanse our hearts and start anew.”
A Living Testament to the Gadaa System
Irreechaa is more than a religious observance; it is the vibrant pulse of the Gadaa System, the ancient, indigenous democratic governance structure of the Oromo people. Inscribed by UNESCO as an Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity, the Gadaa System organizes society into generations, guiding leadership, law, and morality. Irreechaa serves as a unifying moment for this system, reinforcing the social contracts and spiritual values that hold the community together.
Reconciliation and Unity
In a world often fractured by division, Irreechaa stands as a powerful advocate for unity. The festival is a designated time for reconciliation. It is a communal balm where feuds are set aside, misunderstandings are forgiven, and the bonds of kinship are strengthened. The shared experience of prayer and dance melts away social barriers, weaving a tapestry of harmony that includes not just the Oromo, but neighboring communities as well.
A Cultural Showcase
To witness Irreechaa is to witness the soul of Oromo culture. The hills become a runway of breathtaking fashion, with men and women adorned in intricately woven garments and vibrant beadwork. The music is hypnotic, with traditional songs that speak of heroism, love, and history. The dances are energetic, a physical manifestation of joy and liberation.
As the sun sets on the celebration, the green grass is often placed upon the heads of participants as a blessing, a final act of connection to the earth and the creator. The festival concludes, but its spirit lingers—a reminder that every ending is a new beginning, and that gratitude is the foundation upon which communities are built.
Irreechaa is not just a festival. It is a declaration: We have survived. We are thankful. We are one.
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Key Aspects of Irreechaa at a Glance:
· Thanksgiving: Central purpose is to thank Waaqa (God) for blessings over the past year.
· End of Winter: Celebrates the conclusion of the rainy season and the dawn of spring (Birraa).
· Sacred Sites: Observed at rivers (Malkaa), lakes, and hilltops (Tulu).
· Symbols of Life: Participants carry wet grass and daisy flowers to represent fertility and flourishing.
· Cultural Expression: A vibrant display of traditional costumes, music, chants, and dances.
· Unity & Peace: A time for community bonding, spiritual reflection, and reconciliation.
· Gadaa System: An integral ritual within the traditional Oromo governance and social structure.
Oromo Literacy Day: Celebrating the Power of Stories Held in Oromia

By Maatii Sabaa
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Every year, Oromo Literacy Day is more than a date on a calendar—it’s a living tribute to the resilience of a people and their language. It celebrates Afaan Oromoo, a language that carries the weight of history, the songs of ancestors, and the dreams of a nation. But how did the Oromo people arrive at this moment, where their stories can finally be written, read, and shared with the world? The answer lies in a long and courageous journey toward literacy.
A Written History of Resistance and Revival
The story of Oromo literacy is one of relentless struggle. The Oromo people have long possessed a rich oral tradition, but for much of Ethiopia’s modern history, their language was marginalized. It was a household language—spoken, sung, and whispered—but rarely seen on paper . The first major push to change this came in the late 19th and early 20th centuries.
A pivotal figure was Onesimos Nasib, an Oromo freed from slavery who trained as a teacher in Sweden. Upon his return, he and his colleague Aster Ganno worked with an almost missionary zeal to promote literacy in Afaan Oromoo. Onesimos created the Oromo Reader, a book filled with stories that were “short and funny” and designed to be both accessible and engaging. His aim was not just religious instruction but to cultivate a love for reading itself . He would famously ask young people he met, “Can you read and write?” and persuade them of its immense value .
However, their work met fierce opposition from the imperial government. In the mid-1940s, the Haile Selassie regime placed a total ban on Oromo literature . The language was effectively erased from public life, becoming a symbol of defiance.
The Quest for the Perfect Script
The suppression only intensified the desire for a written Oromo. The question of how to write the language became a central point of debate. Early works, like those of Onesimos, used the Ge’ez alphabet. But many activists and intellectuals believed this script was inadequate for Oromo sounds, failing to represent vowel length and consonant gemination—features that change a word’s meaning .
In the 1960s, the movement for a new script gained momentum. At Addis Ababa University, Oromo students began printing the first newspaper in Afaan Oromoo, Kana Beektaa? (“Do you know this?”), in 1968. The paper was a bold act of cultural preservation, collecting “Oromo songs, proverbs, war and grievance chants, Oromo prophecies, nuptials, baby lullabies, and others” . This was more than journalism—it was a declaration of identity. The paper was short-lived, forced to cease publication in 1971 .
Simultaneously, Oromo students in Europe were rigorously debating the script question. In 1968, a study group led by figures like Haile Fidaa concluded that a modified Latin alphabet was the most practical and linguistically sound choice for Oromo . This decision was not just technical; it was a political act of resistance, rejecting a script associated with the establishment.
A New Dawn: The Adoption of Qubee
After years of struggle, the fall of the military Derg regime in 1991 brought a turning point. The new Ethiopian constitution granted greater autonomy to regional states. Oromo was finally made the official language of the Oromia Regional State .
The Latin-based alphabet, known as Qubee, was officially adopted for writing Oromo . This was a victory decades in the making. The script’s simplicity and adaptability to modern technology made it a practical choice for a language finally stepping into the digital age. As one study noted, Qubee “enabled the language to grow faster as the script can be learned easily” .
However, the adoption was not without controversy. For some, the Ethiopic script held deep cultural significance, and the switch to a Latin alphabet was seen as an emotional and political break . Yet for the majority, Qubee represented liberation.
The Stories That Endure
The adoption of Qubee unlocked a literary explosion. Oromo youth and intellectuals began producing “newspapers, magazines, novels, translations and plays that describe their nation and their state in Afaan Oromoo” . Stories once confined to memory were now printed, preserved, and shared.
The journey has also involved recovering alternative scripts. A fascinating chapter is the story of Sheek Bakrii Saphaloo, a scholar who created a unique indigenous Oromo script. He developed an abugida, a writing system where each base glyph has multiple vocalic components, making it distinct from both the Ge’ez and Latin alphabets . This script has been used for over 70 years and is now being considered for digital preservation and inclusion in Unicode, highlighting the deep connection between literacy and cultural identity .
Why Oromo Literacy Day Matters
Oromo Literacy Day is a celebration of this entire journey. It honors the tenacity of Onesimos Nasib, the courage of student activists, and the vision of scholars who fought to give their language a written form. It is a day to recognize that literacy is not just about reading and writing; it is about power, identity, and survival.
The stories held in Oromia are now written down for the world to see. This day celebrates their liberation and their enduring power.
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“The stories, with the exception of a couple of martyr stories, are short and funny, and the subjects vary in order to attract.” — Onesimos Nasib on the Oromo Reader
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Maatii Sabaa is a writer and advocate of the Oromo stories.
Under the Odaa Tree: The Living Legacy of the Ituu Oromo

In the highlands of eastern Oromia, the roots of the Odaa tree (sycamore fig) stretch deep into the earth, just as the traditions of the Oromo people extend into the fabric of history. Among the most storied branches of the Oromo nation is the Ituu, a community whose identity is woven from the threads of ancient lineage, a sophisticated socio-political system, and a resilient spirit of justice. To understand the Ituu is to journey into the heart of the Oromo civilization, where the past is not merely remembered but lived.
The Ancestral Tree: From Murawwaa to Ituu
The Ituu are not a people without a past; they are a clear and significant branch on the vast Oromo genealogical tree. According to both oral tradition and contemporary scholarship, the lineage flows from Oromoo to Bareentuu (or Bareentuma), then to Murawwaa, and from Murawwaa springs the Ituu. A 2026 study by Jimma University confirms this ancestral link, placing Ituu firmly within the Murawwaa Barentuu family.
The Ituu themselves are divided into two primary clans, forming the backbone of their social structure:
- Galaan, with sub-clans such as Baabboo, Gaadullaa, and Elelle.
- Kurraa (Kuraa), with sub-clans such as Baayee, Addaayyo, Arroojjii, and Waayyee.
This is just one layer of a complex organizational system. Under the Gulantaa Odaa or Tumaa Heeraa (customary law), the Ituu are further organized into two major houses: Mana-Ituu (the House of Ituu) and Mana-Baabboo (the House of Baabboo). This dual structure underscores that for the Ituu, identity is a multi-faceted concept, governed by both bloodline and law.
Gadaa: The Soul of Oromo Governance
For the Ituu, as for all Oromo, the Gadaa system is the lifeblood of their society. It is far more than a political structure; it is a comprehensive philosophy that governs every aspect of life. It provides a framework for:
- Political Leadership: A system of elected officials with fixed terms, ensuring a democratic transfer of power.
- Justice (Heera): A legal system that predates modern courts, offering a way to resolve disputes and maintain order.
- Peace (Araara): A defined process for reconciliation and conflict resolution.
- Social Organization: A structure that defines the roles and responsibilities of individuals within the community.
- Spiritual Life: A connection to the divine and the natural world through rituals.
Odaa Bultum: The Parliament of the People
Central to the Ituu and wider Barentuu Oromo history is Odaa Bultum. This site in Hararghe served as a colossal Gadaa assembly center, a place where the community would gather to make laws, elect leaders, and settle disputes. It was the “parliament” under the shade of the Odaa tree, where the echoes of debate and the spirit of democracy were cultivated for generations.
Here, the voices of the people were heard through the Caffee (assembly), and the foundation of their society—Heera (law)—was debated and set. It was a place where the spiritual and the political converged to build a cohesive society.
Gumaa: A Path from Bloodshed to Brotherhood
Perhaps the most profound expression of Ituu culture is the institution of Gumaa. Often translated simply as “blood compensation,” Gumaa is actually a complex, restorative justice system. A 2026 Jimma University study highlights its true purpose: it is not solely about retribution but about reconciliation.
Gumaa is a process that transforms conflict, seeking to stop the cycle of violence and reintegrate offenders back into the community. It is a testament to the Ituu belief that even in the face of grave wrongs, the ultimate goal is peace and social harmony. The system includes specific legal frameworks such as Heera Diinoo, Heera Amboo, and Heera Danuu.
The Rituals and the Voices of the People
The cultural life of the Ituu is rich with ceremony. The Korbeessaa–Goromtii ritual, for instance, involved the sacrifice of goats to invoke peace, seek victory in conflict, and predict social and natural outcomes. It was a way of seeking divine guidance for the community’s journey.
Importantly, the Ituu social structure also features a powerful institution for women: Siiqqee. This is not merely a tradition but a social force that gave women a formal voice in matters of justice, peace, and reconciliation. It stands as a powerful testament to the Oromo society’s recognition of the vital role of women in maintaining social order and integrity.
A Living Tradition
Today, the Ituu Oromo stand at a crossroads of history. Their traditional systems—the Gadaa, the Heera, and the Gumaa—are not relics of a bygone era. They are living institutions that continue to provide a framework for justice and identity in a rapidly changing world. The genealogy from Murawwaa to Ituu is not just a list of names but a testament to a civilization that built a sophisticated society rooted in democracy, justice, and a profound respect for community.
The story of the Ituu is a story of resilience—a reminder that the roots of the Odaa tree, and the culture it represents, are deep and enduring.
Sources:
- Boru Musa Burka & Jira Mekonnen Choroke, “Gumaa beyond Compensation,” Gadaa Journal, 2026.
- Boru Musa Burqa & Dejene Gemechu Chala, “Korbeessaa-Goromtii Ritual,” Gadaa Journal, 2022.
- Admasu Feleke & Deressa Debu, “Oromo Historical Heritage: Historical Significance of Odaa Bultum Gadaa Assembly,” Jimma University.
A Cry for Justice: The Unfolding Crisis in Oromia

As violence escalates in Ethiopia’s most populous region, a growing chorus of voices is demanding accountability, protection, and peace for the Oromo people.
The plea is urgent and uncompromising: “Stop the killing of Oromo civilians! Stop violence against the Oromo people! Fano must leave Oromia!” These calls reflect a deep-seated crisis that has gripped the Oromia region, where civilians find themselves caught in the crossfire of multiple armed conflicts.
The Human Toll of Conflict
Recent reports paint a harrowing picture of the violence unfolding across Oromia. The Ethiopian Human Rights Commission (EHRC) has documented atrocities including killings, bodily injuries, abductions, displacement, and destruction of property in the Arsi Zone of Oromia . The violence is not isolated—it reflects a broader pattern of human rights abuses across multiple regions, including Amhara and Tigray .
In one particularly devastating incident, armed men killed more than 20 civilians in Oromia. Local civil servants reported that Fano militants attacked civilians “with swords and guns” in the Nono district, approximately 110 kilometers southwest of Addis Ababa, resulting in 25 deaths including women and children, with four more later dying in hospital . A regional security official confirmed that Fano militants had been active in the region for four years, “taking advantage of opportunist moments to launch attacks against civilians and loot property”.
The Humanitarian Crisis
The violence has created a severe humanitarian crisis. The United Nations reports that 3.2 million children are out of school due to the conflict . Hospitals and clinics have been attacked—in 2023, the International Committee of the Red Cross reported that “almost all” of 42 health posts in Oromia’s Beji area had been looted or destroyed . Aid organizations have struggled to distribute supplies, leading to severe malnutrition .
Civilians describe a terrifying reality. One woman from Oromia’s Shewa region told of her family facing constant harassment and extortion from armed groups, with her uncle detained until a 100,000 Ethiopian birr ransom was paid . A coffee farmer from Wollega has been unable to return home for three years due to the security situation, with his harvest stolen by armed fighters .
A Call for Justice and Peace
The demands for justice and protection are clear. As one civil servant noted, the situation “has worsened in recent years” . The Red Cross has warned that the current clashes have “devastating consequences” for civilians, particularly in remote areas, noting that “Oromia doesn’t make the headlines, yet civilians continue to be deeply affected by violence” .
The call for Fano to leave Oromia reflects the reality that multiple armed groups are active in the region, each contributing to the suffering of civilians. For the Oromo people, the demand is simple but profound: protection, justice, and accountability for those who have committed atrocities.
Without decisive action, the cycle of impunity and violence will continue to erode Ethiopia’s stability and legitimacy . The international community, regional bodies, and Ethiopian authorities face a critical choice: allow the violence to continue, or take meaningful steps to protect civilians and bring perpetrators to justice.
OLF Leadership Engages in High-Stakes Consultations Amid Oromo Unity Push

(Finfinne, Oromia)– As Ethiopia’s political landscape grows increasingly volatile, the Oromo Liberation Front (OLF) has convened a series of high-level meetings with its leadership cadres, grassroots members, and traditional institutions—a strategic push to consolidate Oromo unity in the face of mounting security threats and political uncertainty.
A Call for Unity and Vigilance
The most recent consultations, held at the party’s headquarters in Gullalle, brought together Qondaaltota (junior leaders), Dabballoota (cadres), and the general membership for extensive deliberations. Senior OLF leader Jaal Abdii Raggaasaa—who also serves as Member Secretary-General—addressed members with a stark message on the nature of the struggle: that commitment, not temporary strength, determines victory .
“Some individuals enter the organization (Irbuu) but then exploit it—seeking personal benefit rather than serving the people’s cause. When such people exist, it is they themselves who suffer the consequences, not ABO and not others.”
— Jaal Abdii Raggaasaa, OLF Senior Leader
Abdii emphasized that the work of building the Oromo nation extends beyond Ethiopia’s borders—stretching into the diaspora wherever Oromos reside . He stressed that grassroots organizing, beginning “from the village level,” remains essential to lasting political change .
Leadership’s Resolve: “We Must Speak as ABO”
Reflecting on the inevitable challenges facing liberation movements, Abdii offered a sobering reflection:
“In the struggle ABO is waging, even if we face extinction—if we are reduced to just one person—we must speak as ABO. We must not hide ourselves. We may face extinction, but we must not retreat into silence.”
Jaal Yaasoo Kabbabaa Hordofa, another OLF official, reinforced this determination, declaring that “OLF is the center of Oromo peace.” He noted that if OLF participates in elections this year, it will mark the first and largest chapter in Oromo electoral history—an opportunity that must be seized, not as a preference but as an obligation for all members .
Political Prisoners and the Demand for Justice
The OLF has consistently demanded the immediate release of political prisoners who continue to suffer in detention without due process, calling upon both Abbaa Gadaas and religious authorities to actively work toward restoring security in Oromia .
Following the announcement of the 7th General Election results—which saw the ruling Prosperity Party secure a parliamentary majority and OLF fail to win any seats despite fielding 163 candidates—the party issued a pointed critique .
“The OLF once again firmly reiterates that the situation in Oromia and across Ethiopia cannot be resolved merely by declaring an election victory; rather, to prevent worse outcomes, an inclusive, genuine, and transparent dialogue must be conducted without wasting further time.”
The front noted that while it had filed formal grievances with the National Election Board regarding electoral infractions, it does not believe the board investigated these appeals “with the necessary depth, fairness, and justice” .
A Call for Oromo Political Unity
The OLF’s leadership has also renewed its call for all Oromo political organizations to work together to shorten the path to liberation, stating that this is “the most important time” for coordinated action . The executive committee has emphasized that while some previously allied groups have disrupted cooperation due to shifting political dynamics, they must realize that their moves should serve the broader Oromo interest .
The OLF also reiterated its support for the People’s Alliance for Freedom and Democracy (PAFD) and the transitional roadmap presented at the February 2018 London conference. The party calls on all stakeholders—including political elites, academics, and the international community—to contribute to an all-inclusive transitional process that offers a long-term political solution .
The Broader Context: Conflict and Fragility
The leadership’s renewed unity push comes as violence escalates in western Oromia. ACLED data shows that Fano militias—linked to the Amhara Fano National Movement—have increased their activities in Oromia’s Horo Guduru, Kellem, East, and West Wollega zones by 80% since January 2026 . This follows the establishment of the Wollega Fano Bizamo Command in December 2024, which has since fallen under the broader Tsimdo movement—a coalition reportedly aligned with the Tigray People’s Liberation Front (TPLF) and Eritrea, aiming to remove the Ethiopian government.
Amnesty International released a report in August 2026 titled “Because I am Oromo,” alleging that Ethiopia’s government has “ruthlessly targeted” its largest ethnic group—subjecting thousands of Oromos to unlawful killings, torture, and enforced disappearance . The government has denied the allegations.
Looking Forward
The OLF’s consultations reflect a movement at a crossroads—seeking to navigate electoral rejection, internal cohesion, and external threats while maintaining its decades-long commitment to self-determination. As one participant at the February meeting put it: “An awakened nation is built, and the built is united.”
Whether that unity can withstand the mounting pressures—from state security forces, inter-ethnic violence, and international geopolitical maneuvering—remains the central question facing the Oromo struggle today.
Oromia: our history, our struggle and our future

The history of the Oromo people is a profound narrative of resistance, resilience, and a continuing struggle for self-determination. This journey is marked by a distinct cultural identity, a long history of political marginalization, and an ongoing effort to shape a prosperous future.
Our History: Identity, Conquest, and Resistance
The Oromo have a distinct cultural and political identity, traditionally organized under the Gadaa system, an indigenous egalitarian and democratic governance model . However, this autonomy faced a major turning point in the late 19th century during the “Ethiopian imperial conquest,” when Oromo territories were incorporated into the Ethiopian Empire through a process that many Oromo scholars characterize as colonization and subjugation .
This political domination continued through subsequent regimes, creating a deep-seated grievance centered on marginalization and exploitation by successive central governments .
Our Struggle: Liberation, Protest, and Political Action
The struggle for liberation is multifaceted, taking political and social forms:
· Political Movements: The Oromo Liberation Front (OLF) has been the primary political vehicle, fighting for nearly half a century to liberate Oromo society from what it describes as “Abyssinian/Ethiopian settler colonialism” .
· Mass Protests: In 2014, a wave of protests erupted, driven by a generational “distributive crisis” and articulated through demands for ethnic self-determination against perceived domination by the Tigray People’s Liberation Front (TPLF). These protests were significantly coordinated by the diaspora via social media and satellite TV .
· Fragile State Relations: The current federal system, while recognizing ethnic regions, has often seen the Oromo regional government as lacking legitimacy, making the state’s control more contested here than in other areas . A tangible symbol of this tension is the ongoing dispute over land and expansion around Addis Ababa, which is geographically an enclave within Oromia .
Our Future: Development, Autonomy, and Uncertainty
The future is a delicate mix of economic potential and political uncertainty:
· Economic Aspiration: The development of the Gada Special Economic Zone near Addis Ababa, inspired by Chinese economic models, signals an economic future based on industry, trade, and job creation .
· Persistent Conflict: The reality of current instability is stark. The Chinese Embassy warns its citizens against traveling to many parts of Oromia, particularly the western zones and areas north of the A4 and A3 highways, due to “extremely high” or “high” risk .
· Uncertain Path: The struggle for autonomy continues through both political and armed movements like the Oromo Liberation Army (OLA) . While significant economic development is planned, the path forward remains deeply insecure for many within the region.
The Oromo journey is one of leveraging a proud heritage to build a future of self-determination and prosperity, yet it navigates the deeply complex and often violent currents of Ethiopian state politics.
I hope this overview provides a balanced perspective. If you are interested in a specific aspect—such as the Gadaa system, the role of the diaspora, or the details of the current conflict—please let me know, and I can explore it further.
The Unrelenting Struggle: Oromo Resistance and the Brutal Reality of Fano Atrocities

A Reflection on the Ongoing Crisis in East Wallagga and Horro Guduru
By Daandii Ragabaa
To this day, the Oromo people have been subjected to the brutal force of the Fano militia. The deaths of fathers, mothers, and children—Oromo lives lost—are met with a chilling refrain: “It is nothing, be patient.”
But patience has its limits. When Oromo people are killed and their oppressors dance, those who call themselves “Fano heroes” celebrate. Yet when the Oromo rise to defend themselves, the same voices cry out: “The civilians are finished!” But the truth is simple: self-defense is a natural right. It is not a crime; it is an instinct for survival.
The Conspiracy Against Oromo Self-Defense
There is a deliberate campaign to deny the Oromo people their fundamental right to self-defense. Behind the scenes, a web of actors—some in government, others in the media, and still more in diplomatic circles—works tirelessly to conceal the truth.
The situation in the East Wallagga and Horro Guduru zones is particularly alarming. Here, a strategic ploy is unfolding. Armed groups are being systematically dismantled within the regional state of Oromia (RSO) and reconstituted under the banner of Fano. This is not a spontaneous development; it is a calculated plan that has been in motion since at least 2019.
As the Oromo people face relentless attacks, their attempts to organize and defend themselves are sabotaged from within. The message is clear: while Oromo fighters are disarmed and disbanded, their enemies are being armed and empowered.
The Cost of Betrayal
The Oromo people have been subjected to a decades-long campaign of marginalization, dispossession, and violence. The current wave of attacks in East Wallagga and Horro Guduru is not an isolated tragedy—it is the latest chapter in a long history of brutality.
But what makes this moment particularly devastating is the silence—and complicity—of those who should be protecting the Oromo people. When Oromo civilians are killed, the world is told to look away. When Oromo resistance is met with disproportionate force, the narrative is twisted to blame the victims.
This is not just a failure of governance; it is a betrayal of the most basic principles of justice and humanity.
A Call to Action
The Oromo people have waited too long for justice. They have been told to be patient while their children are killed, their villages burned, and their land stolen. But patience is not a virtue when it is used as a tool of oppression.
Self-defense is not aggression. It is the right of every people to protect their lives, their families, and their communities. To deny the Oromo this right is to condemn them to perpetual victimhood.
The international community must look beyond the carefully constructed narratives and see the truth: the Oromo people are under attack, and they are fighting for their survival.
Conclusion: The Truth Will Prevail
The conspiracy to silence the Oromo people will ultimately fail. The truth of what is happening in East Wallagga and Horro Guduru—and across Oromia—will not be hidden forever. The blood of the innocent cries out for justice, and it will be heard.
As the Oromo people continue to resist, they do so not out of hatred, but out of love for their children, their land, and their future. They fight for the right to live in peace, free from fear and oppression.
Oromoon of-ittisuu qaba. Of-ittisuun seera uumamaa ti.
The Oromo people have the right to self-defense. Self-defense is a natural law.




