Category Archives: Press Release

Ethiopia’s Leaders Trade Suits for Uniforms: A Wartime Cabinet in Training

By ONA Staff Reporter

ADDIS ABABA — In a striking image that has circulated widely across Ethiopian social media, Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed stands shoulder to shoulder with his cabinet members and senior officials, not in the dark suits of governance but in the olive-green fatigues of military trainees. The photographs, shared on the Prime Minister’s own social media pages on Saturday, October 31, 2026, reveal a government preparing for war—and framing that preparation as a strategic necessity.

A Cabinet in Uniform

Among those pictured in military training gear at the Hurso facility were Mufrihat Kamil, Speaker of the Federation Council; Dr. Fitsum Assefa, Minister of Finance; and Dr. Mekdes Daba, Minister of Health. They were not observing exercises from a distance. They were participating in them.

According to the Prime Minister’s statement, the officials are undergoing military training at Hurso, a site that has become synonymous with the government’s increasingly militarized approach to statecraft. The training, Abiy explained, is designed to help officials “properly understand and implement” the ideas contained in what he calls the “Great Strategy of Additive Civilization” (Ye Medemer Siltenie Talaku Strategy).

The “Additive Civilization” Doctrine

The strategy, as articulated by the Prime Minister, contains principles that read as much like a wartime manifesto as a governance blueprint: “ensuring national security at all times,” “building a strong country that cannot be bent by anyone or anything,” and “mobilizing the structure from bottom to top for a national purpose.”

Military science, Abiy wrote, “has no competitor in shaping the purpose and humanity of a person.” He described it as a discipline that makes people “physically, spiritually, morally, and in execution disciplined.” The knowledge, skills, and experience drawn “from military science and life,” he argued, are essential to implementing the strategy.

“Leaders of the Additive government are taking military training at the Hurso military training camp,” Abiy wrote. “Soldiers have targets; civilians have objectives. The goal of both is to register victory. By combining both disciplines, we will create a generation that hits the target and achieves the objective.”

The Context: A Region on Edge

The timing of the training is not incidental. It comes as the Ethiopian National Defense Force (ENDF) has moved closer to the border with Eritrea, amid mounting fears that the two countries—locked in a diplomatic freeze over accusations of supporting insurgents and a dispute over sea access—could be drawn into war. The two nations have severed diplomatic relations, and the threat of renewed conflict hangs over the Horn of Africa.

The training also comes as the government continues to consolidate its military posture. This week, during a visit to Russia, Prime Minister Abiy announced that Ethiopia had received Su-35 fighter jets—advanced aircraft that would make Ethiopia the first sub-Saharan African nation to operate them. The delivery represents a significant escalation in the country’s aerial capabilities.

The Prime Minister has repeatedly stated that strengthening Ethiopia’s military capacity across all sectors is among his objectives. The images of his cabinet in uniform are not merely symbolic; they are a signal that the government’s approach to governance has become inseparable from its approach to war.

A Government at War with Itself?

The photographs raise uncomfortable questions. A finance minister in fatigues, a health minister in combat gear—what does it mean for a government to train its civilian leadership for battle? The Prime Minister’s framing suggests a belief that military discipline is the antidote to the indiscipline of civilian governance, that the battlefield’s clarity of purpose should be brought to the messy work of running a state.

But critics may see something else: a government that has increasingly turned to military solutions for political problems. The training at Hurso, the procurement of advanced fighter jets, the escalating rhetoric—all of this unfolds against a backdrop of internal conflict, including renewed fighting with forces in northern Ethiopia and ongoing unrest in Oromia.

The government has not disclosed when the training began or how long it will last. What is clear is that the image of a cabinet in uniform is intended to convey a message: Ethiopia’s leadership is preparing for something. Whether that something is defense, deterrence, or the prosecution of war remains to be seen.

The Image That Speaks

In a region where symbols carry enormous weight, the photograph of Abiy and his officials in military fatigues is more than a social media post. It is a declaration of intent. The “Great Strategy of Additive Civilization” is being taught at a military camp, to a cabinet, in a country on the brink. The soldiers have targets; the civilians have objectives. And the Prime Minister has made clear that he expects both to hit them.

As Ethiopia navigates a precarious moment in its history, the sight of its leaders in uniform offers a glimpse of how they see the road ahead: not as a path of diplomacy and civilian governance, but as a campaign to be won.


Source: EBC (Ethiopian Broadcasting Corporation) and the Prime Minister’s official social media pages.

The Man Who Would Redefine Ethiopia

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

By Sultan Abda Neja, Ph.D.

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

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

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The Long Road from Resistance

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

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

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

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

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Jawar’s Intervention: From Resistance to Governance

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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The Critics Speak: Progressive Patriotism Under the Microscope

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Toward a Constitutional Patriotism: The Roadmap

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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The Future of Ethiopian Nationalism: A Shared Project

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

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

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

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

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

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

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The Pen and the Sword: Remembering Jaal Kumsaa Buraayyuu, a Titan of the Oromo Struggle

By Dhabessa Wakjira

In the long and arduous history of the Oromo people’s struggle for self-determination, the weapons of resistance have not only been rifles and guerrilla tactics; they have also been the pen, the novel, and the printing press. On July 15, 2025, the Oromo nation lost one of its most formidable intellectual warriors. Jaal Kumsaa Buraayyuu (Kumsa Burayu Balo)—a prominent nationalist, author, journalist, and political activist—passed away, leaving behind a monumental legacy that fundamentally shaped Oromo literature and political consciousness.

His life was a testament to the power of words in the face of state repression. From the rural heartlands of East Wallagga to the global stage of international exile, Kumsaa Buraayyuu dedicated his life to ensuring that the Oromo story was not just preserved, but weaponized for liberation.

Forging a Cultural Renaissance

Born in November 1969 in the Horro Guduru zone of East Wallagga, Oromia, Kumsaa grew up immersed in the rich oral traditions and cultural heritage of his people. This early exposure to indigenous knowledge would become the bedrock of his later work.

The 1990s were a pivotal time for Ethiopia. As the brutal Derg regime collapsed, Kumsaa Buraayyuu emerged as a pioneering voice in the Oromo cultural recovery movement. In 1993, he authored Suuraa Abdii (The Picture of Hope), one of the earliest and most influential novels written in Afaan Oromo. The novel was not just a work of fiction; it was a searing, critical examination of the oppressive realities of the Derg regime. For a people whose language and history had been systematically marginalized, Suuraa Abdii was a radical act of reclaiming identity.

Furthermore, Kumsaa was an early and fierce advocate for the expansion of Afaan Oromo literacy using the Qubee (Latin) script. Recognizing that a language is the lifeblood of a culture, he championed the written word as the primary vehicle for Oromo emancipation.

The Cost of Truth

Kumsaa’s literary brilliance was matched by his journalistic courage. In 1993, he co-founded the Madda Walaabuu publishing and advertisement organization, which became a vital hub for Oromo intellectual thought. He also served as an editor for early Oromo political and cultural magazines, most notably Odolee.

Through these platforms, Kumsaa provided a space for Oromo voices that the state wanted silenced. But speaking truth to power in Ethiopia carries a heavy price. Because of his relentless work and his advocacy for Oromo rights, Kumsaa faced severe political persecution and imprisonment under the incoming EPRDF regime. The state recognized what many already knew: his ideas were a threat to their centralized, hegemonic control.

Exile and the Unyielding Struggle

Faced with the impossibility of continuing his work safely within Ethiopia, Kumsaa was forced to flee in 1996. After a brief period in Djibouti, he resettled in Australia in 1997. Yet, for a true patriot, exile is not a retreat; it is merely a change of battleground.

From his new home in the Global South, Kumsaa Buraayyuu remained highly active in the political struggle. He joined the Oromo Liberation Front (OLF/ABO), dedicating his strategic mind to the cause. From 1998 to 2009, he served as a senior OLF official and led the OLF South Pacific branches, organizing and mobilizing the Oromo diaspora across Australia and New Zealand.

In an era where the Ethiopian government and its allies actively abused their influence in international media and institutions to demonize the Oromo people and their organizations, Kumsaa’s diplomatic and journalistic work in the Pacific region became an essential counter-narrative. He understood that the struggle for Oromia had to be fought simultaneously in the homeland and in the halls of international opinion.

A Legacy that Breathes

Jaal Kumsaa Buraayyuu was a bridge between the traditional oral historians of the past and the modern, globalized digital activists of the future. He understood that the Gadaa system, the ancient democratic governance model of the Oromo, was not just a relic of history, but a guiding philosophy for a better future—one rooted in human security, compromise, and consensus.

His passing on July 15, 2025, is a profound loss to the Oromo nation. He leaves behind a generation of writers, readers, and activists who were inspired by Suuraa Abdii and who learned the Qubee script through his advocacy.

Though Kumsaa Buraayyuu is gone, the “picture of hope” he painted through his life’s work remains. He proved that while the state can imprison the body, it can never imprison the Afaan Oromo language, nor the indomitable spirit of the people who speak it.

May his memory be a blessing, and may his legacy continue to fuel the fight for freedom, justice, and self-determination for generations of Oromos to come.

From Refugee Roots to Leadership: Louise Perry to Lead Victoria’s Multicultural Commission

By Dhabessa Wakjira

MELBOURNE – Victoria’s commitment to fostering an inclusive and harmonious society has found a steadfast champion. Multicultural and Multifaith Victoria (MMV) has announced that Ms. Louise Perry will continue her tenure as the Interim Multicultural Coordinator General.

While the title is long, the mission is deeply personal. For Perry, the role is not just a bureaucratic appointment, but a culmination of a life shaped by migration, resilience, and a profound dedication to human rights.

As a Burmese woman, a migrant, and the daughter of a refugee, Perry brings a unique duality to the position. She merges her lived experience with significant professional expertise across the public, development, and human rights sectors. It is this combination of personal insight and professional acumen that MMV leadership believes will be instrumental in driving the organization forward.

“Louise brings extensive experience across government, human rights, and international development, along with a lifelong commitment to strengthening inclusion and opportunity for diverse communities,” MMV said in a statement announcing her continued appointment.

Having traversed the complex landscapes of international development and public service, Perry is acutely aware of the challenges and opportunities facing Victoria’s diverse populace. Her career has been defined by a drive to ensure that systemic barriers are dismantled and that opportunity is accessible to all, regardless of background.

In her role as Interim Coordinator General, Perry is tasked with positioning MMV as a trusted, effective, and robust institution. She is passionate about ensuring the organization builds strong, meaningful partnerships across a wide spectrum of stakeholders—from grassroots community groups and government bodies to businesses and the broader Victorian public.

Her vision for MMV is one of active engagement and tangible results. By fostering these cross-sector alliances, Perry aims to deliver meaningful change, ensuring that the voices of multicultural and multifaith communities are not just heard, but are integral to the shaping of policy and public life in Victoria.

As she continues to lead the organization through its establishment phase, Perry stands as a testament to the very values MMV seeks to uphold: that diversity is a strength, and that leadership is often most powerful when informed by the journey of those who have lived it.

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

By Dhabessa Wakjira

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

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

A Legacy Born in the Shadow of Partition

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

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

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

Defying the Italian War Machine

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

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

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

Standing Against the Imperial Crown

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

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

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

He refused.

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

The Enduring Wisdom of the Elders

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

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

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

A Beacon for the Present

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

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

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


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

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

By Daandii Ragabaa

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


Video credit: Dawa FM

Celebrating Oromia Media: The Unyielding Voice of a People

By Dhabessa Wakjira

In a country where the state maintains a near-monopoly on the levers of national and international media, the existence of independent Oromia media is nothing short of an act of defiance. To celebrate Oromia media today is to celebrate the resilience of a people who, for over a century, have seen their history distorted, their language suppressed, and their struggles silenced.

While the government in Finfinnee projects a façade of progress to the international community, the reality on the ground—as documented by human rights organizations—is a landscape scarred by violence, displacement, and systemic marginalization. In this environment, Oromia media serves as the vital, beating heart of the Oromo nation’s quest for truth and self-determination.

The Battle Against Erasure

The importance of an independent Oromo press cannot be understood without acknowledging the historical context. As the Oromia Support Group (OSG) notes in its submissions to the UN Human Rights Council, the Oromo people were subjected to the neftenya-gabbar system of subjugation, and while formal slavery was abolished, the culture of supremacy continued. Even today, the OSG warns that the gains in autonomy and the adoption of the Oromo language within the 1995 constitution are in danger of being lost as power is centralized.

For decades, mainstream Ethiopian media has been complicit in this erasure. It has often served as a mouthpiece for the state, demonizing Oromo organizations, masking state-sponsored atrocities, and amplifying biased narratives. When international human rights organizations are sometimes duped into publishing poorly researched reports that wrongly attribute massacres to the Oromo Liberation Army (OLA), independent Oromia media becomes the essential corrective mechanism. It is the platform that documents the drone strikes in East Wallega, the mass displacements in West Showa, and the forced conscription of children.

Oromia media does not just report the news; it archives the truth. It ensures that the 7,862 civilian killings documented since 2018 are not reduced to mere statistics, but are remembered as the mothers, fathers, and children lost to a brutal conflict.

Amplifying the Culture of Gadaa

To view Oromia media solely through the lens of conflict is to miss its profound cultural significance. The Oromo people possess a rich, vibrant heritage rooted in the ancient Gadaa system—a democratic, egalitarian, and consensus-based governance model recognized by UNESCO as a World Heritage treasure.

Oromia media is the guardian of this heritage. Through music, poetry, literature, and broadcasting in Afaan Oromoo, it nourishes a language that was once forbidden in schools and public life. It carries the voices of the Borana elders reciting the blessings of the Tuula Saglan Booranaa (the Nine Sacred Water Wells) across the diaspora. It celebrates the resilience of the Qerroo youth, who have stood at the forefront of demanding justice.

In a world where the government and its allies abuse their influence in global media and institutions to demonize Oromo people, these independent platforms offer a counter-narrative of dignity. They remind the world that the Oromo are not merely victims of a geopolitical crisis, but a proud nation with a sophisticated history of compromise, power-sharing, and democracy.

The Courage of the Diaspora

Much of this vital work is shouldered by the Oromo diaspora. Fleeing the violence that has created a global refugee crisis—with Oromos facing xenophobia in South Africa, detention in Egypt, and extortion in Yemen—the diaspora has weaponized media as a tool for survival.

Organizations like the Oromia Support Group (OSG) and various independent Oromo media outlets operate under immense pressure. They face digital surveillance, smear campaigns, and the constant threat of being discredited by state-aligned actors. Yet, they persist. They bridge the gap between the isolated villages of Oromia and the halls of the United Nations in Geneva.

A Voice for the Future

As the Horn of Africa faces increasing instability, the role of Oromia media will only grow in importance. It is the vehicle through which the Oromo people can demand accountability for the crimes committed against them, and it is the medium through which they articulate their vision for the future—a future built on self-determination, human rights, and the revival of their indigenous democratic values.

The existence of a free Oromia media is a testament to the fact that no amount of state repression, drone strikes, or media manipulation can extinguish the spirit of a people. To celebrate Oromia media is to celebrate the journalists, the poets, the citizen reporters, and the diaspora activists who refuse to let the world look away.

It is the sound of a nation reclaiming its own story. And it is a sound that will not be silenced.


Dhabessa Wakjira is a commentator on Horn of Africa affairs and human rights.

A Nation Behind the Façade: Inside the Oromo Crisis Ahead of the UN Human Rights Council

By Dhabessa Wakjira

When the 63rd Session of the UN Human Rights Council convenes in Geneva from 7 September to 9 October 2026, diplomats will debate frameworks, resolutions, and language. But beneath the procedural veneer lies a brutal reality documented by the Oromia Support Group (OSG) in its submission to the Council: a nation where the state’s monopoly on violence has been turned against its own people, and where the international community’s attention remains dangerously fragmented.

The OSG’s submission, drawing on Reports 73 and 74, paints a portrait of Ethiopia that stands in stark contrast to the narrative of progress and development promoted by the government in Finfinnee. It is a portrait of a country where at least 7,862 civilians have been killed since September 2018—a figure the OSG acknowledges is only a fraction of the total. Since April 2026 alone, at least 245 civilians have been killed, 38 of them by Amhara Fano militants.

The Anatomy of a Massacre

The numbers, however staggering, cannot capture the human cost. In early March 2026, 32 villagers—including women and children—were slaughtered in a single attack by Fano in Abee Dongoroo district, Horo Guduru. On 30 June and 1 July, at least 12 were killed in Agamsa, Horo Guduru. On 24 July, 11 or more were killed in Hanger Gutin, East Wallega, where they had gathered for a football tournament.

These are not isolated incidents. They are part of a systematic campaign of violence that has engulfed Oromia, driven by a confluence of forces: government security forces, Amhara Fano militants, and government operatives masquerading as Fano or as the Oromo Liberation Army (OLA) to sow hatred between communities.

The OSG submission is explicit: “Government forces masquerading as Fano and OLA are deployed against Amhara, Oromo and Gumuz communities with the sole purpose of fomenting hatred between them.” This is not a byproduct of war; it is a strategy of division, a modern iteration of the zero-sum, supremacist culture that has haunted Ethiopia for over a century.

Displacement, Destruction, and the Vanity of Development

Beyond the killings, the OSG documents a systematic campaign of displacement and destruction. Since March 2026, artillery barrages and drone strikes have killed people and animals in East Wallega, North Showa, and East Showa. Homes have been burned and villagers displaced across North, West, and Southwest Showa, Wollo, Hararge, Bale, Arsi, Qellem, West Wallega, and Buno Bedele zones.

This violence is not merely a security operation; it is deeply intertwined with economic interests. The OSG notes that displacement continues for “corridor and vanity projects and clearing of land for foreign investors.” The government’s vision of modernization, it seems, is built on the ruins of Oromo homes and the graves of Oromo farmers.

The submission also highlights the lawlessness and extortion by government militias, the forced conscription of youngsters—often under 17 years of age—into national defense forces, and more recently, into the Sudanese Rapid Support Forces (RSF) based in Asosa zone. Older and infirm men are press-ganged into local militia. Refusal of conscription leads to detention, torture, and killing.

The Weaponization of Rape and the Corruption of Aid

The OSG submission reiterates previous findings: the rape and murder of young girls and women continue with impunity. But it also raises a troubling new dimension: the weaponization of these crimes in the international media.

“Even Amnesty International has been duped into biased and inflammatory propaganda against OLA,” the submission states, “singling it out as almost the sole perpetrator of sexual violence against women in West Wallega, despite this being the opposite of the conclusions drawn by the UN Independent Commission of Human Rights Experts in Ethiopia.”

This is a damning indictment of the international human rights community’s ability to be manipulated by state actors. Massacres committed by government forces masquerading as OLA have been attributed to OLA itself in poorly researched and biased reports. The result is a global narrative that legitimizes state violence while demonizing those who resist it.

Meanwhile, behind the façade of progress in Finfinnee and other major cities, the OSG paints a picture of a destitute and hungry population, heavily dependent on foreign aid—aid whose distribution is “once again rife with corruption and discrimination.” The government and its allies, the submission notes, abuse their connections in national and international media, NGOs, and institutions to demonize Oromo people and their organizations.

The Refugee Crisis: From Bad to Worse

The violence has created a refugee crisis of staggering proportions. Oromo civilians, displaced by government and Fano forces, constitute the bulk of Ethiopian refugees fleeing to neighboring countries and beyond—to Egypt, Yemen, South Africa, and further afield.

But the world is not welcoming them. The OSG documents a global shift away from treating refugees with dignity and compassion. In Egypt, hundreds of Oromo and Sudanese refugees have been detained, and many, including registered asylum-seekers, have been returned against their will. At least one Oromo died in detention in Cairo on 22 July 2026. In Cape Town, South Africa, at least two Oromo registered asylum-seekers were killed by xenophobic mobs in early July. Thousands are trapped in Sana’a, Yemen, unable to escape because of forced conscription by Houthi militia and violence and extortion by traffickers. UNHCR offices are closed and unable to help. Migrants who survive lethal violence by border guards are liable to summary justice and execution for minor offenses in Saudi Arabia.

The Historical Roots of the Crisis

The OSG submission does not shy away from history. It traces the roots of the current crisis to the 19th and early 20th centuries, when the Oromo—the majority people of Ethiopia—were overrun by Amhara and Tigrayan tyrants. Although slavery was abolished by Italian invaders in 1936, serfdom within the neftenya-gabbar system continued until 1974. Amhara racist and supremacist culture, the submission argues, continues to exert itself under the Prosperity Party government.

“Although nominal Oromo are part of that government, all the gains in autonomy and the adoption of the Oromo language within the 1995 federal constitution are in danger of being lost as the incumbent Prime Minister attempts to monopolise control within a presidential system,” the OSG warns.

This is the crux of the matter: the fear that the hard-won gains of federalism, however imperfect, are being rolled back in favor of a centralized, authoritarian state that serves the interests of a narrow elite.

The Gadaa Alternative

Against this bleak backdrop, the OSG offers a vision of hope rooted in indigenous knowledge. The Oromo culture of compromise, power-sharing, consensus decision-making, and checks and balances to avoid the monopoly of power by individuals and small groups is evidenced in the ancient Gadaa system, recognized by UNESCO as of World Heritage significance.

“By enabling the emancipation and self-determination of the Oromo, it would be possible to experience again the benefits of this culture,” the submission states. “This could be the only way to restore peace, stability, and respect for human rights in Ethiopia for all its peoples.”

A Call to the International Community

As the UN Human Rights Council convenes in Geneva, the OSG submission is a stark reminder that the international community cannot afford to look away. The crisis in Ethiopia is not a distant, intractable conflict; it is a manufactured catastrophe, sustained by a government that has weaponized ethnicity, manipulated international institutions, and deployed its security forces against its own citizens.

The submission’s conclusion is unambiguous: “Without self-determination for the Oromo and other oppressed peoples of Ethiopia, there will be no stability in Ethiopia. A peaceful and prosperous Ethiopia would allow stability and peace to develop in the Horn of Africa.”

The choice before the international community is clear. It can continue to reward a government that has turned its guns on its own people, or it can stand with those who seek a different path—one rooted in the ancient wisdom of the Gadaa system, where power is shared, dissent is tolerated, and every voice is heard.

For the people of Oromia, the stakes could not be higher. They have endured over a century of subjugation, and they are now facing a government that seems determined to erase their gains and silence their demands. The world must decide whether it will stand with them—or stand aside as the slaughter continues.


The Oromia Support Group’s full submission is available at oromiasupport.org.

53 Years of Oromo Freedom Struggle, 53 Years of Impact

Half a century after a small band of nationalists took up the Oromo cause, the movement has transformed the political landscape of Ethiopia—even without achieving the independent state it once sought. Its deepest impact lies not in territorial control, but in the irreversible awakening of a people who can no longer be governed as before.

The Oromo Liberation Front was founded in 1973, emerging from the ferment of Oromo student activism and the memory of the banned Mecha-Tulama Self-Help Association . What began as a clandestine project among intellectuals would, over five decades, become the central axis of Ethiopian political contestation—not because it won, but because the questions it raised about identity, land, and power could never again be buried.

The early years were defined by armed insurgency and brutal repression. The OLF established itself as a guerrilla force operating across Wollega, Bale, and Hararghe, drawing recruits from peasants who had watched the imperial and then Derg regimes dispossess and marginalize them . The Derg’s response was predictable and catastrophic: mass arrests, executions, and a campaign of terror that killed thousands accused of harboring OLF sympathies. Yet repression produced what it so often does—martyrdom, recruitment, and an enduring sense of grievance that outlasted the gun.

The movement’s most significant impact, however, came not on the battlefield but in the realm of consciousness. The OLF’s founding vision articulated something that had been suppressed for generations: that the Oromo were a nation, not merely a labor force or a demographic majority to be managed. This idea, once planted, proved impossible to uproot. Even after the OLF was pushed out of the transitional government in 1992 and reduced to a marginal political actor, the seeds of Oromo nationalism continued to grow underground .

The eruption came in 2014, when the Qeerroo—Oromo youth—took to the streets over the Addis Ababa master plan, a policy they saw as another chapter in a long history of land dispossession. The protests spread, intensified, and by 2018 had forced the ruling coalition to install Abiy Ahmed, an Oromo, as prime minister . It was a remarkable inversion: a ruling party that had once sought to contain Oromo nationalism now depended on Oromo street power to survive.

The human cost of this struggle has never been abstract. In 2020, the assassination of Hachalu Hundessa, a musician whose lyrics had given voice to a generation’s anger and longing, triggered days of unrest that left at least 166 people dead, according to police figures . Hachalu’s music had become an instrument of the movement itself—his songs were sung at protests, his death a rallying cry. The violence that followed exposed how fragile the gains remained and how deeply the wounds of marginalization had festered.

Fifty-three years on, the struggle’s landscape is fractured. The OLF split in 2018, with its political wing entering legal politics and its armed wing—the Oromo Liberation Army—continuing an insurgency that the government has designated as terrorism . Peace talks between the government and the OLA have repeatedly collapsed, with Addis Ababa accusing the rebels of “unrealistic demands” and the OLA charging the government with seeking co-optation rather than addressing root causes . Meanwhile, the regional government in Oromia pursues a dual track: encouraging surrender through elders and Abba Gadas while waging military operations against those who refuse .

Yet the struggle’s most enduring legacy may lie elsewhere—in the cultural and intellectual infrastructure that no military campaign can dismantle. The Gada system, the indigenous Oromo governance structure that regulates political, social, and religious life through rotating eight-year cycles, was inscribed on UNESCO’s Representative List of the Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity in 2016 . What was once dismissed or ignored by the Ethiopian state is now recognized globally as a sophisticated democratic tradition. Oromummaa—the articulation of Oromo peoplehood and identity—has become a force in Ethiopian politics that no government can afford to ignore .

What, then, does 53 years of impact look like? It looks like a language once suppressed now spoken in parliament. It looks like a youth movement that toppled a prime minister and then grew disillusioned with his successor. It looks like a struggle that began as a separatist insurgency and became, instead, a permanent renegotiation of what Ethiopia means. The OLF’s founding dream of an independent Oromia has not been realized. But the conditions that made that dream thinkable—a people conscious of their history, their numbers, and their rights—have become irreversible.

The next chapter remains contested. The government insists the answer is peace and reintegration. The OLF’s political wing insists it is negotiation. The OLA insists it is continued resistance. The Qeerroo, who inherited a struggle they did not start, wait to see which vision will prevail. What is certain is that 53 years after a handful of nationalists took up the Oromo cause, the question they raised is no longer a question at all. It is a fact of Ethiopian life, and it will not be resolved by ignoring it.

16 Years of Advocacy for Oromia, 16 Years of Impact

Marking a Milestone of Dedication, Resilience and Progress

For 16 years, the cause of Oromia has been carried forward with unwavering commitment — through advocacy, community engagement and a steadfast belief in justice, dignity and development for the Oromo people. Today, we mark 16 years of advocacy and 16 years of impact.

What began as a shared vision among a dedicated few has grown into a sustained movement built on perseverance, solidarity and the collective voice of a community determined to be heard. Over these 16 years, advocacy for Oromia has taken many forms — raising awareness, amplifying community concerns, fostering dialogue, and championing the rights and aspirations of the Oromo people both at home and in the diaspora.

The impact of this work is reflected not only in the milestones achieved, but in the lives touched, the voices empowered and the awareness built across communities. Each year has brought new challenges, and each challenge has been met with renewed resolve. Through it all, the commitment to Oromia’s future has remained constant.

This milestone belongs to everyone who has contributed to the journey — the advocates, the community members, the partners and the supporters who have stood together over the years. Your dedication has made a difference, and your efforts continue to shape a brighter path forward.

As we celebrate 16 years of advocacy and 16 years of impact, we look ahead with hope and determination. The work continues, and so does the vision of a prosperous, peaceful and dignified Oromia.

Here’s to 16 years of dedication — and to the many years of impact still to come.

16 Years of Advocacy for Oromia. 16 Years of Impact.