Category Archives: Sirna Oromo
A Response from Within: Correcting the Narrative on Ethiopia’s National Dialogue
A four-year participant challenges the critique that the National Dialogue began with the “wrong first question,” offering a detailed defence of the process and an invitation for critics to join the table.
ADDIS ABABA, ETHIOPIA — In the ongoing public debate over Ethiopia’s National Dialogue, one critique has stood out: that the process began with the wrong question, focusing on divisions rather than shared aspirations. Mr Kebour Ghenna articulated this view in a widely discussed reflection, arguing that the Dialogue should have begun by asking, “What future do Ethiopians wish to build together?” rather than “What divides Ethiopians?”
Now, a direct participant in the Dialogue has responded. Mr Zenayeneh Girma, who has served for four years as a representative of Civil Society Organisations (CSOs) in the National Dialogue process, has offered a corrective perspective—one grounded in direct participation rather than external observation.
“The evidence contradicts your central claim that the Dialogue began with the ‘wrong first question,'” Zenayeneh wrote, respectfully challenging Kebour’s thesis.
A Painstaking Process
Zenayeneh begins by correcting what he describes as a factual error. The National Dialogue did not begin by collecting grievances alone. It began by collecting issues from across the country—over 10,000 specific concerns raised in consultations across all woredas .
These were systematically aggregated into 2,000 themes, then distilled into 8 major national agenda pillars . These pillars cover nation-building and identity; state structure and form of government; the status of federal cities; religious affairs; institution building and the rule of law; social and economic issues; corruption and good governance; and peacebuilding and national reconciliation .
“This was not a hurried exercise but a painstaking process designed to ensure every voice—no matter how remote or marginalised—was heard,” Zenayeneh states.
He challenges Kebour’s suggestion that only divisions were documented. “In every consultation, participants were asked what future they desired for their communities and Ethiopia collectively. The 8 pillars emerged not from ‘what divides us’ but from what Ethiopians chose to discuss as urgent national questions—including the most difficult and deadlocked ones.”
Unprecedented Inclusivity
Zenayeneh argues that the Ethiopian process is unprecedented in its inclusivity. For the first time in the country’s history, Ethiopians from all regions, ethnicities, religions, and political affiliations—including diaspora communities—were brought together to question issues once considered “untouchable”: the flag, federalism, the status of Addis Ababa, the constitutional order, corruption, and institutional reform .
“This is not ‘organising disagreement.’ This is building a foundation for consensus,” he writes.
A Call for Participation, Not Observation
One of Zenayeneh’s most pointed observations is directed at the role of intellectuals who critique the process from outside. “You critique from outside while refusing to enter,” he writes, directly addressing Kebour.
As a prominent intellectual, Zenayeneh notes, Kebour could have contributed expertise to advisory panels. Instead, he has consistently critiqued from a distance. “Observing by ‘sitting outside’ and then writing based on hearsay is an easy task. Building a process that engages 4,000+ communities across a vast, diverse country is not.”
Zenayeneh acknowledges that some opposition figures remain outside the process—some by choice, others by circumstance. But the Commission has extended invitations repeatedly. “A dialogue that waits for everyone to agree to participate may wait forever. The process must move forward while continuing outreach.”
What History Will Remember
Zenayeneh concludes with a prediction about what history will actually remember: a moment when Ethiopians—for the first time—sat together across all divides and spoke honestly about their deepest political questions. It will remember a Commission that organised not just grievances but aspirations, not just complaints but solutions.
“The Dialogue is not perfect. But perfection is not the standard—participation is. And by that measure, Ethiopia has achieved something unprecedented.”
His message to intellectuals and critics is clear: “Instead of theorising from outside, consider contributing your expertise. The nation needs thinkers like you inside the room—not just observers outside it.”
Conclusion
Zenayeneh’s response offers a powerful counter-narrative to critiques of Ethiopia’s National Dialogue. It defends the process as painstaking, inclusive, and historic. It acknowledges imperfections while arguing that participation—not perfection—is the standard by which the Dialogue should be judged.
“Thank you for keeping the debate alive,” Zenayeneh writes. “But please, let us not allow perfect to become the enemy of progress.”
This feature news is based on the response of Mr Zenayeneh Girma to Kebour Ghenna, published on July 31, 2026.
Swedish Football Dream Turns to Mystery as 20 Ethiopian Youth Players Go Missing After Gothia Cup
GOTHENBURG, Sweden – What was supposed to be a triumphant return home for Ethiopia’s young football ambassadors has instead become a quiet international mystery. Swedish authorities have confirmed that approximately 20 members of an Ethiopian youth football delegation are unaccounted for, having vanished on the final day of the prestigious Gothia Cup in Gothenburg.
The players, part of a delegation that had traveled to Sweden to compete in the world’s largest youth football tournament, did not board their scheduled flight back to Addis Ababa. According to police, the group left the school where they were housed during the tournament and simply did not return.
“They were present at the closing ceremonies, but when the time came to gather for transport to the airport, the group was noticeably absent,” a local police spokesperson stated.
In a development that has puzzled investigators, Swedish authorities have stated that there are currently no signs of foul play or human trafficking. Instead, the police believe the disappearance appears to have been voluntary.
“We are not currently looking at this as a criminal case related to abduction,” the police added. “The indications we have suggest that the individuals chose to leave their accommodation and remain in Sweden of their own accord.”
The Gothia Cup, which hosts over 1,700 teams from around the globe, is often a platform for young athletes to showcase their talent on an international stage. However, it has historically also been a known avenue for migration attempts; previous years have seen similar incidents where athletes have sought asylum in Sweden after their participation in the tournament.
The missing individuals have now been listed internationally as missing persons after failing to return to their home country as planned. The Ethiopian embassy in Stockholm has been notified of the incident and is coordinating with Swedish migration authorities to ascertain the whereabouts of the missing group.
This incident raises fresh questions about the security protocols surrounding large youth sporting events and the vulnerabilities of international delegations traveling to high-income countries. While the players are considered missing, police stress that no crime is currently suspected, focusing their efforts instead on locating the group to ensure their welfare.
“A Warning from the Grave”: Dr. Negasso Gidada’s 2014 Prophecy on the Addis Ababa Master Plan – and Why It Was Ignored
As Ethiopia reels from the aftermath of the 2014 Oromo protests, a newly surfaced document reveals that one of the Constitution’s architects had foreseen the catastrophe – and offered a roadmap to avoid it. His advice went unheeded.
By Our Staff Reporter
In May 2014, just weeks after violent protests erupted across Oromia over the “10th Addis Ababa Integrated Development Master Plan,” Dr. Negasso Gidada – a key intellectual and co-architect of Ethiopia’s 1995 Constitution – sat down to write a sobering analysis. He titled it: “A Tragic Consequence of the ‘10th Addis Ababa Integrated Development Master Plan’: A Warning for the Future.”
The document, now circulating widely, reads like a dispatch from a man who saw the storm coming. In it, Dr. Negasso dissects the historical grievances, constitutional failures, and political miscalculations that ignited the unrest – and warns that if the root causes were not addressed, the federal system itself could unravel.
Nearly a decade later, his words carry a haunting resonance. The protests that began in Adaamaa University on April 29, 2014, spread to dozens of towns, leaving dozens dead, property destroyed, and ethnic tensions inflamed. The government’s response – a mix of repression and belated appeasement – did little to quell the anger. And, as Dr. Negasso predicted, the underlying issues remain unresolved.
A City Built on Conquest, a Constitution Unfulfilled
Dr. Negasso begins by grounding the crisis in history. Addis Ababa, founded in 1887 by Emperor Menelik and Empress Taitu around the hot spring of Finfinnee, was established on land that belonged to the Oromo of Shawa. He cites British envoy Harris, who in 1844 witnessed King Sahle Sellasie’s forces – armed with European guns – “destroy the Oromo life and resources,” burning homes, capturing women, and slaughtering men. The Oromo of Gulalle, he notes, still remember leaders like Tufa Mona and Birraatuu Goolee who died in those wars.
This historical memory, he argues, is not ancient grievance – it is living pain. And it has been compounded by three modern failures:
1. The Constitution of 1995, which promised Oromia a “special interest” in Addis Ababa (Article 49/5) but never defined it in law.
2. The 2003/2004 decision to move Oromia’s capital to Adaamaa, which sparked student protests and led to mass expulsions and imprisonments.
3. The broken promises of 2005, when OPDO, after losing the election, re-declared Finfinnee as the capital and vowed to build Oromo cultural centres and language schools in the city’s ten districts – none of which materialised.
“Nine years have passed,” Dr. Negasso wrote, “and nothing from the decisions and promises were implemented.”
The Master Plan: A Spark on Dry Tinder
When the “Integrated Master Plan” – which proposed integrating surrounding Oromo towns into Addis Ababa – was publicly announced in March 2014, it struck at this accumulated trauma. The plan was presented as a development initiative, but for Oromo farmers on the city’s fringes, it meant eviction. For Oromo intellectuals, it meant the erasure of their territorial rights. For the youth, it was the final straw.
“Here lies the root cause of the current incident and the tragic consequence,” Dr. Negasso wrote.
The protests were swift and fierce. They began at Adaamaa University, then spread to Haroo Maayaa, Dire Dawa, Bale, Guji, and beyond. By the time Dr. Negasso penned his note, the death toll was mounting – two students killed in a TV room explosion at Haroo Maayaa, others thrown into rivers, and reports of mutilation and ethnic violence. Security forces responded with live fire, and the government issued statements defending the plan while blaming “outside forces.”
A Constitutional Crisis in Plain Sight
Dr. Negasso’s most incisive contribution is his legal analysis. He walks through the Constitution article by article, showing how both the ruling party and nationalist forces were undermining it.
He quotes Article 49/5: “The special interest of the State of Oromia in Addis Ababa… shall be respected. Particulars shall be determined by law.” That law, he notes, has never been enacted.
He cites Article 40/4, which guarantees peasants the right to land and protection from eviction – a right routinely violated in the suburbs of Addis.
And he warns that if the Constitution is not respected, the federal system could collapse into ethnic conflict. “The end result could also mean the disintegration of Ethiopia which no one of us wants to see.”
What He Prescribed – and What Was Ignored
Dr. Negasso did not merely diagnose; he offered a cure. His recommendations were clear:
· Apologise for the failures: the unfulfilled constitutional provision, the broken promises, the violence by security forces.
· Investigate human rights violations by both state and individual actors, and bring perpetrators to justice.
· Immediately implement Article 49/5 – define Oromia’s special interest, demarcate the boundary, and affirm the jurisdiction of surrounding towns.
· Stop hate propaganda from both “Ethiopianist” and “Oromummaa” camps.
· Launch a national dialogue on the Constitution, the national question, land policy, federalism, and the role of the media.
“We can only try to mend the damage by taking corrective measures based on what we have learnt from the mistakes done,” he wrote.
The Unheeded Warning
Dr. Negasso concluded his note with a plea: “If we want to live together and save our people and country, we should either respect the Constitution as it is or create a situation in which it could be amended and ratified by the people through a referendum.”
The TPLF-led government did neither. The master plan was shelved – but the underlying issues were never resolved. The protests of 2014 would echo in the 2015 elections, and again in the 2016–2018 Oromo uprisings that ultimately reshaped the country’s political landscape.
Dr. Negasso Gidada passed away in 2019. But his note from May 2014 remains a haunting artifact – a warning written in ink, delivered from the grave, and largely ignored by those who had the power to act.
Today, as Ethiopia navigates yet another national dialogue, his words serve as a stark reminder: tragedy is not inevitable, but it is the price of constitutional neglect.
—
This feature is based on Dr. Negasso Gidada’s unpublished note dated May 2014, titled “A Tragic Consequence of the ‘10th Addis Ababa Integrated Development Master Plan’: A Warning for the Future.”
The Irreechaa Protocol: From Ancient Healing to Modern Stroke Recovery
What if the path to physical recovery after a stroke lies not in isolation but in community, not in medicine alone but in the sacred rituals that have healed generations?
When we think of stroke rehabilitation, we typically imagine hospital beds, physical therapists, and repetitive exercises. The journey is often described as isolating—a solitary struggle against the body’s betrayal. But what if the most effective recovery intervention has been practiced for centuries, not in clinics, but at the water’s edge, surrounded by thousands of voices raised in song?
The Oromo people’s Irreechaa festival—a thanksgiving celebration held at sacred water bodies like Hora Arsadii and Hora Finfinnee—offers a blueprint for stroke recovery that transcends conventional rehabilitation. It is not merely a cultural festival; it is a sophisticated, community-driven healing protocol that addresses the physical, psychological, and spiritual dimensions of recovery.
The Foundation: Why Ritual Matters in Recovery
Stroke, as a form of brain tissue damage caused by a sudden disruption of blood supply, often results in muscle weakness or paralysis on one side of the body, known as hemiparesis or hemiplegia . Beyond the physical challenges, stroke profoundly affects patients’ psychological and spiritual well-being.
Conventional rehabilitation focuses on regaining motor function through physical therapy, strength training, and range-of-motion exercises. Yet research increasingly recognises that recovery is not purely mechanical. The emotional isolation, loss of identity, and spiritual questioning that accompany stroke require interventions that address the whole person.
This is where Irreechaa enters the picture. For the Oromo people, who have endured generations of political marginalisation and cultural suppression, Irreechaa has functioned as what scholars describe as “cultural therapy”—a cyclical, collective practice that restores dignity, cohesion, and hope . Its choreography—pilgrimage to sacred water, symbolic washing, public prayer, group singing and dancing—provides a template that can be adapted for physical rehabilitation.
The Three Therapeutic Pillars of Irreechaa for Stroke Recovery
1. Recognition: Reclaiming Identity and Agency
One of the most devastating effects of stroke is the loss of identity. A person who once moved freely, worked, and cared for family suddenly becomes dependent on others. This loss mirrors the experience of colonised peoples—the internalised devaluation that comes from being told, directly or indirectly, that you are less than what you were .
Irreechaa counters this through public, mass affirmation . When thousands gather in traditional white attire, singing and performing traditional dances, they are not just celebrating; they are visibly, collectively reclaiming dignity . For a stroke survivor, participation—even passive observation—reaffirms that they remain part of the community. Their identity is not erased by their condition.
The festival’s impact on psychological well-being is significant. Scholars document that the joyful atmosphere counters trauma, while participants see their culture celebrated, combating marginalisation and fostering confidence . For stroke survivors, this sense of belonging and self-worth is a powerful motivator for recovery.
2. Regulation: Movement, Music, and Healing the Body
The physical elements of Irreechaa serve a regulatory function that aligns precisely with evidence-based rehabilitation. Structured songs, rhythmic movement, and shared timing “calm bodies and synchronise emotion” . This mirrors approaches like EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing), where bilateral stimulation helps process traumatic material.
Traditional Oromo songs, known as geerarsa, have a particularly powerful healing function. One form of folksong is designed to “divert the thought of the distressed individual by persuading him through the intricate terminologies” . Even individuals with physical and cognitive impairments can be drawn into the healing experience through these songs.
Scientifically, the combination of water and sound creates immersive environments. Chanting reduces stress hormones and triggers dopamine, promoting transcendence . Movement—however limited—stimulates blood flow and helps maintain flexibility. When tens of thousands move and sing together, the result is a form of community-wide emotional and physical regulation that no individual therapist could replicate.
Research on spiritual practices in stroke rehabilitation supports this approach. One study found that dhikr therapy—practiced by flexing and moving the knuckles of the hand—can reduce stiffness in the joints of stroke patients, supporting muscle flexibility and strength . Irreechaa offers this same principle on a massive scale: repetitive, meaningful movement embedded in a spiritual and social context.
3. Reconnection: Healing the Social Wound
Historical trauma isolates; ritual reconnects . Anthropologists describe how public rituals generate “communitas”—an intense sense of togetherness that suspends everyday hierarchies . At Irreechaa, this communitas creates “prosocial bonds that reduce isolation and renew civic agency” .
For a stroke survivor, social isolation is a major barrier to recovery. Depression, anxiety, and loneliness compound physical limitations. The festival’s intergenerational participation—elders demonstrating rituals, children and youth participating actively—creates a continuity of social bonds that bridges generations . The stroke survivor is not left behind; they remain part of the living chain.
Irreechaa’s role in fostering inclusivity and national healing has been widely recognised, described as “a catalyst for inclusivity in Ethiopia” that “promotes a sense of togetherness” . For the individual survivor, the lesson is clear: recovery is not a solitary journey but a communal one.
The Water Blessing: Symbolic and Practical Healing
The most iconic Irreechaa ritual involves participants entering sacred water and symbolically washing away hardship . This act operates on multiple levels:
- Symbolically, it represents cleansing from past trauma and preparation for renewal.
- Psychologically, it provides a physical mechanism for emotional release.
- Communally, it creates a shared experience that binds participants together.
For a stroke survivor, water also offers practical therapeutic benefits. Hydrotherapy is a recognised rehabilitation technique that reduces joint stress, improves circulation, and provides gentle resistance for muscle strengthening. The sacred waters of Irreechaa offer this benefit within a context of profound meaning.
For diaspora Oromo communities, adaptations of these water rituals in park settings or hilltops serve similar functions . When a traditional water body is unavailable, communities transform other spaces into sacred gathering points. This adaptability suggests that the Irreechaa protocol can be adapted to any setting—including rehabilitation centres, community halls, or home environments.
A Blueprint for Stroke Recovery Intervention
What can the Irreechaa protocol teach rehabilitation professionals, caregivers, and stroke survivors?
1. Recovery Requires Community
The individualised model of rehabilitation misses a crucial element: the healing power of belonging. Interventions that create spaces for group participation, shared music, and collective movement may enhance outcomes.
2. Symbolism Matters
Water, music, movement, and traditional attire are not superficial decorations; they are therapeutic vehicles that engage the whole person—body, mind, and spirit.
3. Repetition Builds Strength
The cyclical, annual nature of Irreechaa mirrors the repetitive practice essential to stroke rehabilitation. Regularity, predictability, and ritualised practice build resilience.
4. Cultural Grounding Is Therapeutic
Cultural practices are not barriers to evidence-based approaches; they are themselves evidence-based approaches refined over generations . Adapting indigenous healing traditions to modern rehabilitation can improve engagement and outcomes.
5. Hope Is a Medicine
Irreechaa’s central message—that renewal is possible—is exactly what a stroke survivor needs to hear. Hope, meaning, and purpose are not sentimental extras; they are essential drivers of recovery.
Conclusion: The Quiet Work of Repair
Irreechaa demonstrates that healing is not only possible but has been practised for centuries. Its protocol—recognition, regulation, and reconnection through public ritual—provides a template that could be adapted for stroke recovery across cultures and contexts.
As scholars of historical trauma note, healing requires “shared remembrance, mourning, and culturally grounded practices that rebuild meaning and agency” . For stroke survivors, the same principle applies. Recovery is not just about regaining muscle strength; it is about rebuilding meaning, reconnecting with community, and reclaiming identity.
Irreechaa’s power is double-edged: the very practices that heal—public recognition, shared emotion, embodied solidarity—can also unsettle established systems of control . But for the stroke survivor seeking to recover, this is not a threat. It is an invitation to reclaim what was lost.
The path forward is not to shrink the wisdom of the ancestors but to secure it. Treat it as a healing asset, adapt its principles to modern practice, and let ritual do its quiet work of repair.
“Irreechaa’s power is double-edged: the very practices that heal—public recognition, shared emotion, embodied solidarity—also unsettle projects that rely on minimising Oromo visibility. The path forward is not to shrink Irreechaa but to secure it: treat it as a national asset, protect rights equally, and let ritual do its quiet work of repair” .
Irreechaa as a Model for Community Mental Health Interventions
Irreechaa as Ritual Repair: How an Ancient Thanksgiving Festival Became a Blueprint for Collective Mental Health Intervention
Far more than a seasonal celebration, the Oromo festival’s water blessings, songs, and communal rituals function as a sophisticated, community-driven therapy for generations of historical trauma
In an era where mental health professionals increasingly recognise the limitations of individual therapeutic models for addressing collective trauma, an ancient festival offers an unexpected but profoundly effective blueprint. For the Oromo people, the Irreechaa celebration—held at sacred water bodies like Hora Arsadii (Bishoftu) and Hora Finfinnee—operates as what scholars describe as “cultural therapy”: a cyclical, collective practice that restores dignity, cohesion, and hope after generations of political marginalisation .
For a people whose late-19th-century imperial incorporation, linguistic suppression, and systematic cultural erasure represent textbook “cumulative, collective wounding,” Irreechaa has become far more than a seasonal celebration . It is a sophisticated, community-based mental health intervention that has sustained Oromo resilience for centuries. By examining the Irreechaa protocol—its structure, its symbols, and its therapeutic mechanisms—we may find a model for collective healing that transcends cultural boundaries.
The Foundation of Collective Trauma
The Oromo experience of historical trauma is severe and systematic. Late-19th-century imperial expansion violently incorporated Oromo homelands into the Ethiopian Empire, followed by over a century of political and cultural subordination . Oromo institutions, including aspects of the Gadaa governance system, were constrained or suppressed, and the public status of Afaan Oromoo was systematically diminished.
This represents what scholars term “cumulative, collective wounding”—mass harms that echo across generations through families and institutions . The result is not merely individual psychological distress but a community-wide experience of internalised devaluation, social fragmentation, and disconnection.
Conventional mental health approaches—individual therapy, medication, and cognitive interventions—can address symptoms but often fail to heal the underlying collective wounds. Irreechaa offers an alternative: a community-based intervention designed to restore what was broken collectively.
The Therapeutic Structure of Irreechaa
Irreechaa’s choreography follows a remarkably consistent pattern: pilgrimage to sacred water, symbolic washing, public prayer, group singing and dancing, and the leadership of elders . This structure aligns precisely with what anthropologists identify as the key elements of “ritual repair” .
Recognition: Countering Internalised Devaluation
One of the most insidious effects of historical oppression is internalised inferiority—members of marginalised groups absorb the dominant society’s negative messages about their identity. Irreechaa counters this through public, mass affirmation . When millions gather in traditional white attire, singing and performing traditional dances, they are not just celebrating; they are visibly, collectively reclaiming dignity .
The festival’s impact on psychological well-being is significant. Scholars document that the joyful atmosphere counters trauma from oppression, displacement, or recent conflicts, while youth see their culture celebrated, combating marginalisation and fostering confidence . The sense of pride and self-worth cultivated at Irreechaa is particularly important for younger generations, who carry the Oromo legacy forward .
Regulation: Choreographing Healing through Music and Movement
The physical elements of Irreechaa serve a regulatory function that echoes evidence-based trauma interventions. Structured songs, rhythmic movement, and shared timing “calm bodies and synchronise emotion” . This mirrors approaches like EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing), where bilateral stimulation helps process traumatic material.
Traditional Oromo songs, known as geerarsa, have a particularly powerful healing function. One form of folksong is designed to “divert the thought of the distressed individual by persuading him through the intricate terminologies” and has “strong power of meeting the requirements or to draw attention of the listener” . Even individuals with mental illness can be drawn into the healing experience through these songs .
Scientifically, the combination of water and sound creates immersive ritual environments. Chanting reduces stress hormones and triggers dopamine, promoting transcendence . When tens of thousands move, sing, and splash in sacred waters together, the result is a form of community-wide emotional regulation that no individual therapist could replicate.
Reconnection: Rebuilding Social Bonds
Historical trauma isolates; ritual reconnects. Anthropologists have long described how public rituals generate what they call “communitas”—an intense sense of togetherness that suspends everyday hierarchies . At Irreechaa, this communitas creates “prosocial bonds that reduce isolation and renew civic agency” .
The festival’s intergenerational participation reinforces this reconnection. Elders demonstrate rituals like eebba (blessings) and traditional dances, while children and youth participate actively, creating a continuity of social bonds that bridges generations . This is not simply a pleasant experience; it is a vital antidote to the social fragmentation that oppression produces.
Irreechaa’s role in fostering inclusivity and national healing has been widely recognised, with the festival described as “a catalyst for inclusivity in Ethiopia” that “promotes a sense of togetherness and fosters a spirit of inclusivity, reminding us that despite our differences, we are all part of the same human family” .
The Water Blessing: Symbolic Washing Away
The most iconic Irreechaa ritual involves participants entering sacred water and symbolically washing away hardship, or performing libation rituals using water and fresh grass (Birraa) . This act operates on multiple levels:
- Symbolically, it represents cleansing from past trauma and preparation for renewal .
- Psychologically, it provides a physical mechanism for emotional release.
- Communally, it creates a shared experience that binds participants together.
For diaspora Oromo communities, adaptations of these water rituals in park settings or hilltops serve similar functions, connecting a community separated by geography to the healing practices of their ancestors . The Melbourne community, for example, transformed Dandenong Hill into a sacred gathering point when a traditional water body was unavailable . Planting trees alongside these symbolic rituals extends the theme of renewal to ecological consciousness .
The Shadow: When Healing Attracts Threat
The very power that makes Irreechaa therapeutic also makes it threatening to forces seeking to maintain dominance . The 2016 Bishoftu tragedy—where security forces’ crowd control triggered a stampede that killed scores—etched a deep collective trauma into Oromo memory . This event reinforced fears that peaceful cultural gatherings can be violently disrupted.
Subsequent Irreechaa celebrations have often featured heavy policing, preemptive arrests, and restrictions that rights groups criticise as disproportionate . The “securitisation” of Irreechaa reflects a fundamental reality: visible, unified collective identity threatens projects that rely on minimising that group’s visibility and power .
The festival’s security challenges are well-documented. As one analysis notes, “this pattern sustains a feedback loop: securitisation communicates distrust of Oromo mass assembly; participants experience retraumatisation; organisers double down on the festival’s identity-affirming message, which authorities then read as political mobilisation” .
A Blueprint for Collective Intervention
What can the Irreechaa protocol teach mental health practitioners, community organisers, and policymakers?
1. Collective Healing Requires Collective Ritual
Individual therapy cannot fully address historical trauma because the wound is communal. Interventions must create spaces where communities can heal together .
2. Symbolism Matters
Water, music, movement, and traditional attire are not superficial decorations; they are therapeutic vehicles that engage the whole person .
3. Intergenerational Participation Is Essential
Children and elders healing together creates continuity that individual approaches cannot achieve .
4. Regularity Builds Resilience
Irreechaa’s cyclical nature—held annually, marking seasonal change—provides ongoing, predictable support that communities can rely on .
5. Cultural Grounding Is Strength
Cultural practices adapted to trauma healing are not barriers to evidence-based approaches; they are themselves evidence-based approaches refined over generations .
Conclusion: Ritual as Quiet Repair
Irreechaa demonstrates that collective healing is not only possible but has been practised for centuries. Its protocol—recognition, regulation, and reconnection through public ritual—provides a template that could be adapted across cultures and contexts .
As scholars of historical trauma note, healing requires “shared remembrance, mourning, and culturally grounded practices that rebuild meaning and agency” . The Irreechaa protocol provides exactly that: a culturally grounded practice that rebuilds meaning and agency for millions.
The path forward, as one analysis concludes, is “not to shrink Irreechaa but to secure it: treat it as a national asset, protect rights equally, and let ritual do its quiet work of repair” . For mental health professionals, the lesson is clear: the best interventions may not be found in clinical manuals but in the living traditions of communities that have survived and thrived despite centuries of attempted erasure.
Irreechaa’s power is double-edged: the very practices that heal—public recognition, shared emotion, embodied solidarity—also unsettle projects that rely on minimising Oromo visibility. The path forward is not to shrink Irreechaa but to secure it.
The Irreechaa Protocol: How an Ancient Festival Provides a Blueprint for Collective Mental Health Intervention
What if healing from trauma is not meant to be a solitary journey but a communal ritual—one that has been practised for centuries?
In an era where mental health professionals increasingly recognise the limitations of individual therapeutic models for addressing collective trauma, a centuries-old festival offers an unexpected but profoundly effective blueprint. The Oromo people’s Irreechaa—an annual thanksgiving celebration held at sacred water bodies like Hora Arsadii (Bishoftu) and Hora Finfinnee—functions as what scholars describe as “cultural therapy”: a cyclical, collective practice that restores dignity, cohesion, and hope after generations of political marginalisation .
For a people who have endured conquest, linguistic suppression, and systematic cultural erasure, Irreechaa is far more than a seasonal celebration. It is a sophisticated, community-based mental health intervention that has sustained Oromo resilience for centuries. By examining the Irreechaa protocol—its structure, its symbols, and its therapeutic mechanisms—we may find a model for collective healing that transcends cultural boundaries.
The Foundation of Collective Trauma
The Oromo experience of historical trauma is textbook in its severity. Late-19th-century imperial expansion violently incorporated Oromo homelands into the Ethiopian Empire, followed by over a century of political and cultural subordination . Oromo institutions, including aspects of the Gadaa governance system, were constrained or suppressed, and the public status of Afaan Oromoo was systematically diminished .
This represents what scholars term “cumulative, collective wounding”—mass harms that echo across generations through families and institutions . The result is not merely individual psychological distress but a community-wide experience of internalised devaluation, social fragmentation, and disconnection.
Conventional mental health approaches—individual therapy, medication, and cognitive interventions—can address symptoms but often fail to heal the underlying collective wounds. The Irreechaa protocol offers an alternative: a community-based intervention designed to restore what was broken collectively.
The Therapeutic Structure of Irreechaa
Irreechaa’s choreography follows a remarkably consistent pattern: pilgrimage to sacred water, symbolic washing, public prayer, group singing and dancing, and the leadership of elders . This structure is not accidental; it aligns precisely with what anthropologists identify as the key elements of “ritual repair.”
Recognition: Countering Internalised Devaluation
One of the most insidious effects of historical oppression is internalised inferiority—members of marginalised groups absorb the dominant society’s negative messages about their identity. Irreechaa counters this through public, mass affirmation . When millions gather in traditional white attire, singing Dhaanto, and performing the Shaggooyee dance, they are not just celebrating; they are visibly, collectively reclaiming dignity .
For Oromo youth—particularly those in the diaspora—this public celebration of their culture combats marginalisation and fosters confidence . It tells them that their identity is not something to hide but something to celebrate with pride.
Regulation: Choreographing Healing
The physical elements of Irreechaa serve a regulatory function that echoes evidence-based trauma interventions. Structured songs, rhythmic movement, and shared timing “calm bodies and synchronise emotion” . This mirrors approaches like EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing), where bilateral stimulation helps process traumatic material.
Psychologically, this is “psycho-bio-social regulation” . The body and mind work together to process emotional material, with collective synchrony amplifying the therapeutic effect. When tens of thousands move and sing together, the result is a form of community-wide emotional regulation that no individual therapist could replicate.
Reconnection: Rebuilding Social Bonds
Historical trauma isolates; ritual reconnects. Anthropologists have long described how public rituals generate what they call “communitas”—an intense sense of togetherness that suspends everyday hierarchies . At Irreechaa, this communitas creates “prosocial bonds that reduce isolation and renew civic agency” .
The festival’s multi-generational participation reinforces this reconnection . Elders demonstrate rituals like the Eebba (blessings) and traditional dances , while children and youth participate actively, creating a continuity of social bonds that bridges generations. This is not simply a pleasant experience; it is a vital antidote to the social fragmentation that oppression produces.
The Water Blessing: Symbolic Washing Away
The most iconic Irreechaa ritual involves participants entering sacred water and symbolically washing away hardship . This act operates on multiple levels simultaneously:
Symbolically, it represents cleansing from past trauma and preparation for renewal. Psychologically, it provides a physical mechanism for emotional release. Communally, it creates a shared experience that binds participants together.
For diaspora Oromo, adaptations of this water ritual in park settings serve similar functions, connecting a community separated by geography to the healing practices of their ancestors . Planting trees alongside these symbolic water rituals extends the theme of renewal to ecological consciousness .
The Shadow: When Healing Attracts Threat
The very power that makes Irreechaa therapeutic also makes it threatening to forces seeking to maintain dominance. The 2016 Bishoftu tragedy—where security forces’ crowd control triggered a stampede that killed scores—etched a deep collective trauma into Oromo memory . This event reinforced fears that peaceful cultural gatherings can be violently disrupted.
Subsequent Irreechaa celebrations have often featured heavy policing, preemptive arrests, and restrictions that rights groups criticise as disproportionate . The “securitisation” of Irreechaa reflects a fundamental reality: visible, unified collective identity threatens projects that rely on minimising that group’s visibility and power .
Yet the festival continues to grow. In 2025, tens of thousands gathered in Addis Ababa and Bishoftu, with Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed addressing the crowd . The celebration has become a complex space where cultural resurgence, political symbolism, and community grievance intersect .
A Blueprint for Collective Intervention
What can the Irreechaa protocol teach mental health practitioners, community organisers, and policymakers?
1. Collective Healing Requires Collective Ritual
Individual therapy cannot fully address historical trauma because the wound is communal. Interventions must create spaces where communities can heal together.
2. Symbolism Matters
Water, music, movement, and traditional attire are not superficial decorations; they are therapeutic vehicles that engage the whole person.
3. Intergenerational Participation Is Essential
Children and elders healing together creates continuity that individual approaches cannot achieve.
4. Regularity Builds Resilience
Irreechaa’s cyclical nature—held annually, marking seasonal change—provides ongoing, predictable support.
5. Cultural Grounding Is Strength
Cultural practices adapted to trauma healing are not barriers to evidence-based approaches; they are themselves evidence-based approaches refined over generations.
Conclusion
Irreechaa demonstrates that collective healing is not only possible but has been practised for centuries. Its protocol—recognition, regulation, and reconnection through public ritual—provides a template that could be adapted across cultures and contexts.
As scholars of historical trauma note, healing requires “shared remembrance, mourning, and culturally grounded practices that rebuild meaning and agency” . The Irreechaa protocol provides exactly that: a culturally grounded practice that rebuilds meaning and agency for millions.
For mental health professionals, the lesson is clear: the best interventions may not be found in clinical manuals but in the living traditions of communities that have survived and thrived despite centuries of attempted erasure. The Irreechaa protocol is not just a festival; it is a toolkit for collective mental health, refined over generations and proven effective by the very survival of the Oromo people.
“Irreechaa’s power is double-edged: the very practices that heal—public recognition, shared emotion, embodied solidarity—also unsettle projects that rely on minimising Oromo visibility. The path forward is not to shrink Irreechaa but to secure it: treat it as a national asset, protect rights equally, and let ritual do its quiet work of repair” .
The 8th Conference of Judicial Officers of the South-West Shewa Zone
Strengthening the Judiciary through Service, Integrity and Professional Excellence
Waliso, Oromia — The 8th Conference of Judicial Officers of the South-West Shewa Zone was officially held in the town of Waliso, under the theme: “We Will Work with a High Spirit of Service to Provide the Public with Pure, Efficient and Acceptable Judicial Services!”
The conference, which brought together judges and legal professionals from across the zone, served as an important platform to evaluate court performance, discuss challenges, and chart a path toward improved service delivery. It concluded with a recognition ceremony honouring judicial officers who had recorded outstanding achievements .
Focus on Quality and Efficiency
During the conference, a key presentation was delivered under the title “Causes for the Cancellation and Improvement of Cases: The Reality of the Courts of the South-West Shewa Zone and the Direction of Solutions” . This session sparked in-depth discussions among the participants, highlighting the commitment of the judiciary to learning from past shortcomings and enhancing the quality of its rulings .
The theme of the conference reflects a broader reform effort to ensure that the judiciary is not only independent but also responsive to the needs of the public. As noted in previous judicial gatherings in Oromia, the primary goal is to improve access to justice and strengthen public trust in the legal system .
Participants and Attendance
The event was attended by a wide range of judicial and administrative officials, including:
- Judges of the Zonal Courts ;
- Representatives from the Oromia Supreme Court ;
- Judicial officers from neighbouring zones and city courts;
- Heads of sector offices from the zone and the town of Walisoo;
- Court administrators and other legal professionals .
The broad representation underscores the coordinated efforts across different levels of the judiciary to align practices and share experiences. Previous zonal conferences, such as those in Jimma and other parts of Oromia, have similarly focused on utilising technology and improving the quality of judicial services .
Recognition of Excellence
One of the highlights of the conference was the presentation of certificates of recognition to judges and court officials who had demonstrated exemplary performance. This practice is common in Oromia’s judicial sector reforms and aims to motivate legal professionals to uphold the highest standards of integrity and service.
The recognition was part of a broader effort to strengthen the rule of law and ensure that the judiciary remains a pillar of justice in the region. Recent reports, however, have also highlighted the difficulties facing the judiciary, including incidents of judges being unlawfully arrested and intimidated, underscoring the importance of such gatherings to reaffirm judicial independence.
Conclusion
The successful conclusion of the 8th Conference of the Judicial Officers of the South-West Sheba Zone reflects a renewed commitment to a judiciary that is accessible, transparent and accountable. In the face of security and administrative challenges, the spirit of service and integrity shown by judicial officers is a beacon of hope for a just and fair legal system .
The Two Humiliations of TPLF: A Reflection on Power, Pride, and the Oromo Awakening
In the shifting sands of Ethiopian politics, the Tigrayan People’s Liberation Front has suffered wounds that time has not healed—and the Oromo people remain the central characters in this unfolding drama
In the annals of Ethiopian political history, few organizations have risen as high or fallen as dramatically as the Tigrayan People’s Liberation Front (TPLF). For nearly three decades, it dominated the political landscape of the Ethiopian Empire, ruling with an iron fist while projecting an image of revolutionary legitimacy. Yet today, the TPLF finds itself nursing wounds that history will not allow it to forget—wounds inflicted not by foreign enemies but by the very people it sought to subjugate.
The reflection of Abba Ebba offers a searing analysis of what he calls the “two humiliations” of the TPLF—humiliations that, in his view, are inextricably linked to the Oromo people and their awakening. These are not merely military defeats but moral and political reckonings that the TPLF has been unable to accept or process.
The First Humiliation: The Fall of Mekelle
“For 27 years, like the saying ‘the hare’s skin cannot cover the elephant,’ the TPLF tried to stretch its hide over an empire too vast for its frame. In the final hour, it was the sons and daughters of Oromo—the Qeerroo and Qarree—who stood before tanks with empty hands and brought down the regime. They made the TPLF retreat to Mekelle, dragging its ill-gotten wealth behind it. This is the first humiliation that remains unhealed to this day.”
The 2018 Oromo protests were not merely a political uprising—they were a seismic shift in the Ethiopian political landscape. The Oromo youth, known as the Qeerroo and Qarree, rose in a wave of popular resistance that the TPLF could not contain. The protests were decentralized, leaderless, and yet remarkably unified in their demands for justice, equality, and an end to the TPLF’s domination .
The TPLF, which had ruled Ethiopia for 27 years, was forced to abandon power and retreat to its northern stronghold of Mekelle. This was not a defeat by a rival military force but a collapse in the face of unarmed civilian resistance. The humiliation was profound and, according to Abba Ebba, has never been truly accepted by the TPLF leadership.
“The TPLF was defeated by the popular wave that ignited from one end of Oromia to the other—a wave that was part of the Oromo liberation struggle. This is an undeniable truth. The Oromo is an elephant; when it tramples, it crushes. The TPLF was forced to swallow this reality, whether it liked it or not.”
The Second Humiliation: The Retreat to Mekelle
The second humiliation followed the first. After initially retreating to Mekelle, the TPLF sought to reassert its influence on the national stage. It formed alliances with various forces—including some within the Amhara political spectrum—and attempted to challenge the Prosperity Party government.
However, this effort ended in another defeat. The TPLF was forced to retreat once again to Mekelle, leaving behind its ambitions and its allies, having consumed itself in the fires it had ignited. This second retreat, Abba Ebba argues, is the other humiliation that remains raw and unprocessed .
“When the TPLF was about to return to Addis Ababa, it found itself burned by the fire it had started. It was forced to retreat to Mekelle—another humiliation that has not faded.”
The Unlearned Lesson
Despite these humiliations, the TPLF has not learned its lesson. Instead, it continues to prepare for a new war, this time under the cover of the Prosperity Party government’s own challenges. After four years of uninterrupted military preparation, the TPLF is once again positioning itself for conflict .
Abba Ebba warns that this preparation is driven by a desire for revenge—a desire to settle scores with the Oromo people who, in the TPLF’s view, are responsible for its humiliations. “Under the cover of the Prosperity Party government, the TPLF is seeking to take revenge on our people for its past humiliations.”
The Unnecessary Price
Abba Ebba poses a pointed question: why must the Oromo people pay the price for the TPLF’s ambitions? Why must Oromia become a battlefield for conflicts that are not of its making?
“The TPLF did not need to travel 600 kilometres into the heart of the country, into the breadbasket of Ethiopia—Oromia. It could have declared Eritrea-style independence when the Derg fell, and it could do so today. All it needs is to settle its accounts and secure the consent of its people.”
The TPLF’s refusal to accept defeat has left the Oromo people caught between multiple threats. On one hand, there is the TPLF’s continued military preparations and its desire for revenge. On the other, there are forces like Fano and other armed groups that have also targeted Oromo communities.
The Oromo Elite’s Responsibility
Abba Ebba also points a finger at the Oromo elite, accusing them of failing to fulfill their responsibilities. The Oromo people, who have paid the heaviest price in the struggle against the Ethiopian Empire, now face a dual threat: the TPLF’s revanchism and the Oromo elite’s failure to protect the gains of the struggle.
“The Oromo elite has failed to protect the historic victory achieved by the Oromo popular struggle. It has also failed to protect the constitutional right to self-determination—the right to democracy, justice, and self-rule—from being undermined.”
This failure, Abba Ebba argues, has allowed the Oromo people to be marginalized and treated with suspicion by their neighbours. The Oromo elite’s failure to step up has left the people vulnerable to manipulation and exclusion.
A Call to Vigilance
Abba Ebba concludes with a call to the Oromo people:
“Our people must prepare themselves for the danger of the approaching war and actively monitor the situation. The war that is being prepared—whether by TPLF or by the Fano forces—poses a threat to the next generation of Oromo. Decisive action must be taken to find a lasting solution.”
He insists that Oromia must not become a doormat for the ambitions of others. “Oromia will not be a doormat for Fano or the TPLF! With its determined sons and daughters, it will stand, honoured and respected, and it will endure forever.”
A Historical Warning
The reflection of Abba Ebba is not merely a commentary on contemporary politics—it is a historical warning. It reminds the Oromo people that the TPLF, despite its humiliations, has not abandoned its ambitions. The two humiliations remain unhealed, and the TPLF continues to seek revenge.
But the reflection also carries a message of hope and resolve. The Oromo people, having risen once, can rise again. The elephant has crushed its enemies before, and it can do so again.
Conclusion
The two humiliations of the TPLF are more than military or political defeats—they are symbolic wounds that the organization has not been able to accept. The TPLF’s refusal to learn from its past has left the Oromo people facing a renewed threat. But the Oromo people, having already demonstrated their power, are not powerless.
As Abba Ebba declares: “Oromia will not be a doormat for Fano or the TPLF! With its determined sons and daughters, it will stand, honoured and respected, and it will endure forever.”
The elephant has crushed its enemies before, and it can do so again.
The Debate Over Finfinne: Citizenship, Nationality, and the Right to Self-Determination
In Ethiopia’s complex federal system, the status of the capital city has become a flashpoint for competing visions of identity, rights, and constitutional interpretation
FINFINNE, ETHIOPIA — A provocative statement by Dr. Tsegaye Ararssa has reignited debate over the status of Finfinne (Addis Ababa) and the rights of its residents, challenging what he describes as “baseless” calls for the city’s self-determination while affirming the constitutional framework that places it within Oromia.
“Finfinne is one of the cities of Oromia” , Dr. Tsegaye asserts, grounding his argument in Ethiopia’s federal constitution and the regional constitution of Oromia . The statement has drawn both support and criticism in a country where the status of the capital city remains a sensitive political issue.
A City of Many Peoples
Finfinne, with its population estimated at between 3 and 4 million, is a microcosm of Ethiopia’s remarkable diversity. People from all regions of the country have made the city their home, bringing with them their languages, cultures, and traditions .
“Their coming is a blessing. Their presence is beautiful. It is beauty itself,” Dr. Tsegaye writes, acknowledging the contributions of migrants who have enriched the capital’s social and cultural fabric.
These residents, he emphasizes, are full rights-bearing citizens of both the country and the region. Their rights are guaranteed under Ethiopia’s constitution (Chapter 3), the Oromia constitution, and other relevant laws. State and regional governments are constitutionally obligated to protect and fulfill these rights .
Residents, Not a Nation
Despite the rich diversity of its population, Dr. Tsegaye draws a sharp legal distinction: “The residents of Finfinne are residents, citizens—not a nation.”
While each individual citizen retains their ethnic identity—with many having ties to their regions of origin—the residents of Finfinne collectively do not constitute a “nation” as defined under Ethiopia’s constitutional framework .
The Ethiopian constitution grants the right to self-determination to “nations, nationalities, and peoples,” defined in Article 39(5) as groups with shared culture, language, identity, and a sense of common history . Residents of Finfinne, however diverse, do not meet these criteria as a collective group.
Individual Rights vs. Collective Rights
Dr. Tsegaye draws a crucial distinction between two types of rights:
Individual rights that accrue to all citizens—including the right to education in one’s language, cultural expression, religious freedom, and preservation of identity—are fully guaranteed to residents of Finfinne .
Collective rights—specifically, the right of a group to self-determination—are reserved for groups that constitute “nations” under Ethiopian law. Such groups must meet the constitutional criteria defined in Article 39(5) .
According to Dr. Tsegaye, residents of Finfinne do not meet this constitutional threshold. They are not a “nation” but rather a diverse collection of individuals from various nations. Therefore, any movement seeking self-determination for the city of Finfinne as a collective entity is constitutionally baseless .
As he states, “If they were to be properly settled according to this criterion, they would be Oromo, and their region would be Oromia.”
The Call for Self-Determination
The debate over Finfinne’s status is not merely academic. In recent years, some voices have called for the city to exercise self-determination, either as an independent federal city or through other arrangements.
Dr. Tsegaye characterizes these calls as “baseless and anti-Oromo” . The phrase “anti-Oromo” likely reflects the perspective that these efforts threaten Oromo rights and the territorial integrity of Oromia.
However, the debate cuts multiple ways. Those advocating for Finfinne’s self-determination argue that the city’s residents have distinct interests that may not be fully represented by either the federal or regional government.
The Constitutional Framework
The Ethiopian constitution is one of the few in Africa that explicitly recognizes the right of nations, nationalities, and peoples to self-determination, including the right to secession .
The constitution also establishes Finfinne (Addis Ababa) as a special city, with its status and boundaries determined by the federal government. This has been a source of tension between the federal government and Oromia, with some Oromo nationalists arguing that the city rightfully belongs to Oromia.
Dr. Tsegaye’s argument is grounded in the constitutional text as he interprets it, but the constitution’s provisions on Finfinne’s status have been subject to multiple interpretations.
A Citizen, Not a Nation
The heart of Dr. Tsegaye’s argument is that Ethiopian citizenship must be distinguished from nationality. All Ethiopians are citizens, but they belong to nations, nationalities, or peoples as defined in the constitution. Residents of Finfinne are citizens first, and their ethnic identity is separate from their status as residents of the capital .
In a country where ethnic federalism is both a constitutional principle and a political reality, the distinction matters. It shapes access to resources, political representation, and even legal status.
His final counsel to residents of Finfinne is clear: “Leave this ‘Addis Ababa should determine its own destiny’ noise, and protect your citizenship rights. It is counsel” .
Conclusion
Dr. Tsegaye Ararssa’s intervention enters a contentious and evolving debate with significant political and legal implications. His emphasis on the constitutional text, the distinction between individual and collective rights, and the specific status of Finfinne as a city within Oromia reflects one interpretation of Ethiopia’s complex federal framework.
Yet the status of Finfinne remains one of the most sensitive and unresolved issues in Ethiopian politics. The debate over whether the city is the capital of Ethiopia, the seat of the Oromo people, or something else entirely continues to shape political discourse.
“The residents of Finfinne are residents, citizens—not a nation.”
Why Unity Remains a Constant Theme in the Oromo Freedom Struggle
In the face of colonial domination and systemic oppression, the call for Oromo unity is not just a political slogan—it is a survival strategy, a moral imperative, and the foundation of a centuries-old struggle for liberation
The Oromo freedom struggle is one of the longest-running national liberation movements in Africa. For over a century, the Oromo people have resisted colonial domination, cultural suppression, and political marginalisation within the Ethiopian Empire. Throughout this long and arduous journey, one theme has remained constant: the call for unity.
Unity is not merely a rhetorical device in Oromo political discourse. It is a practical necessity, a moral principle, and a historical lesson that has been learned through generations of struggle. To understand why unity remains so central to the Oromo cause, we must look at the history of oppression, the nature of colonial strategy, and the lessons learned from both successes and failures.
The Colonial Strategy: Divide and Rule
The Ethiopian Empire was built through conquest. In the late 19th century, Emperor Menelik II’s armies, armed with European rifles, swept through the Oromo territories, confiscating land, imposing a feudal system of tribute and forced labor, and suppressing Oromo institutions such as the Gadaa system. The neftegna-gabbar system was not a metaphor—it was a system of land confiscation, tribute extraction, and forced labour that persisted for generations .
“When Menelik’s armies swept through what is now Oromia in the 1880s and 1890s, they did not arrive as liberators. They arrived with rifles purchased from European powers, with a feudal ideology that viewed the southern peoples as pagans to be civilised and their land as empty territory to be claimed” .
To maintain control over a conquered population that vastly outnumbered the colonisers—Oromos comprise roughly 35% of Ethiopia’s population —the imperial state employed a classic colonial strategy: divide and rule. Oromo society was fragmented, regional differences were exploited, and some Oromo elites were co-opted into the colonial administration. This strategy of fragmentation served the coloniser’s interests by preventing the emergence of a unified Oromo national consciousness .
The suppression of Oromo unity was not incidental to colonial rule—it was essential to it. A united Oromo nation posed an existential threat to the colonial system. This is why successive Ethiopian governments have sought to undermine Oromo unity, whether through direct repression or through the co-optation of Oromo elites into the state structure .
The Birth of National Consciousness
The 1960s marked a turning point in Oromo political consciousness. Oromo intellectuals and artists began to articulate their dissatisfaction with socio-economic deprivation and what was seen by some as ethnic oppression . The Macha-Tulama Self-Help Association (MTA), founded in the 1960s, represented one of the first organised attempts to build Oromo unity across regional and clan divisions .
The Haile Selassie government, recognising the threat posed by this emerging unity, crushed the MTA. Its destruction was the immediate catalyst for the founding of the Oromo Liberation Front (OLF) in the early 1970s . The establishment of the OLF represented a decisive shift: for the first time, a unified political organisation was created to lead the Oromo struggle for self-determination .
“The effort to bring together a few Oromo nationalists of diverse backgrounds from all over Oromia” to establish the OLF was itself an act of unity . The founders understood that only through a unified national movement could the Oromo people overcome the colonial system.
The Weapon of Culture
Oromo culture has been a powerful force for unity. While the Ethiopian state banned the Oromo language from public contexts and prevented it from being printed, Oromo musicians and artists developed creative forms of cultural resistance that sustained Oromo identity and consciousness .
“Afaan Oromo song (music) was used as the most powerful form of chimerical power in speaking across age, class, region, sex, power, and even ideology in resisting the domination of Imperial rule while striving to sustain common Oromo unity” .
Oromo musical icons such as Ali Birra, Abitaw Kebede, Nuho Gobana, Umar Suleyman, Ebbisa Adunya, and Kadir Said played an indispensable role in creating a social space wherein the Oromo struggle for equality and self-emancipation is articulated and debated . Songs like Haacaaluu Hundeessaa’s Maalan Jiraa became anthems of resistance, weaving together stories of pain and pride, hope and despair, and reminding Oromos of their shared identity and destiny .
“It is here, in this reservoir of songs, in the unruly dances and heart-breaking ballads, that one finds the story of the Oromo nation and its struggle for self-determination, not in the official archives and historiographies of the Ethiopian state” .
These artists became targets of state repression because their songs threatened the colonial order by building Oromo unity and consciousness .
Lessons from History
The Oromo people have a long memory of both the costs of disunity and the power of unity. The 16th-century Oromo campaigns, which successfully reclaimed territories from both Christian and Islamic imperial forces, were made possible by the sophisticated organisation of the Gadaa system—a system built on unity of purpose and collective action .
“The successes of the Oromo were not due to sheer numbers or migratory luck—but stemmed from an internally sophisticated and morally grounded civilisational system anchored in the Gadaa democratic order” .
Factors such as the Gadaa system, age-set institutions (Cibra), the unifying goal of reclaiming ancestral land (Galma), spiritual conviction (Kaawoo), and inclusive sociopolitical integration (Moggaasaa) all contributed to Oromo military success .
Conversely, the weakness of the Oromo movement has often been attributed to disunity. As one analysis notes, within the Oromo nationalist movement there are “lots of varieties, units, political agendas, and goals” . This diversity, while reflective of the Oromo people’s richness, has at times been exploited by the state to undermine the movement.
The recognition that disunity serves the coloniser is a constant theme in Oromo political discourse. “The colonizers and their agents have vilified and attacked” the OLF “to make the Oromo society leaderless” . A leaderless, fragmented society is easier to control.
Unity in Contemporary Struggles
The theme of unity remains urgent today. Recent efforts by the Oromo Liberation Front (OLF) and the Oromo Federalist Congress (OFC) to establish a “Transitional National Unity Government of Oromia” reflect this ongoing imperative . These groups have called on “all genuine Oromo forces, regardless of their method of struggle, to resolve their political differences and galvanize their unity” .
The call for unity is not merely political—it is a response to the dire situation facing the Oromo people. Across all 22 zones of Oromia, conflict between government forces and the Oromo Liberation Army (OLA) has led to arrests, beatings, displacement, mass burning of civilian houses, and other atrocities . The Oromo people face a crisis that demands unified action .
Yet the path to unity is not simple. The Oromo nation is divided by class, region, religion, and political orientation. As one analysis notes, “the Oromo nation is not a monolith. It is divided by class” . At the top is the Oromo comprador bourgeoisie—elites integrated into the state structure who benefit from the existing system . At the bottom is the Oromo working class—peasants, agricultural labourers, industrial workers, unemployed youth, and the urban poor .
This class division has led to a recognition that “nationalism alone cannot deliver what the Oromo masses actually need” . The Oromo peasant displaced from their land does not care whether the displacer is Amhara or Oromo—the displacement is the same . The Oromo worker paid starvation wages does not care whether the boss is based in Addis or abroad—the exploitation is the same .
This insight has led some to argue that the Oromo struggle must move beyond nationalism to class politics, building alliances with other oppressed peoples across Ethiopia . “Your ally is the Amhara worker who also wants land. Your ally is the Tigrayan worker who also wants a living wage” .
The Role of the Gadaa System
The Gadaa system continues to be a source of unity for the Oromo people. Its principles of regular rotation of leadership, checks and balances, and consensus-building mechanisms are considered “one of the most sophisticated pre-capitalist socio-political systems ever developed” . The Gadaa system is not merely a cultural artefact—it offers lessons in democratic governance that are relevant to the contemporary struggle .
“A liberated Ethiopia would not erase Oromo culture. It would draw on it. It would recognise that the Gadaa system offers lessons in democratic governance that the European liberal tradition cannot teach” .
The revival of the Gadaa system and the celebration of the Irreechaa festival have become powerful symbols of Oromo unity and cultural renaissance.
Conclusion
Unity remains a constant theme in the Oromo freedom struggle because it is both a necessity and a lesson learned through generations of experience. The colonial state has sought to divide the Oromo people because a united Oromo nation poses an existential threat to the colonial system. The Oromo people have learned, through both victory and defeat, that unity is the foundation of successful resistance.
But unity is not merely a political strategy—it is a moral principle rooted in the Oromo worldview. The concept of Safuu, the moral order that maintains balance and harmony, applies to the Oromo nation as well. Disunity is a breach of Safuu, a disruption of the natural order that brings suffering to the community .
As the Oromo struggle continues, the call for unity remains urgent. Whether through political organisation, cultural expression, or class solidarity, the Oromo people must find ways to overcome the divisions that have been imposed upon them and build the unity necessary for genuine liberation.
“The full restoration of the Oromo people’s freedom and rights is essential for lasting peace” . And that restoration will only be achieved through unity.
The struggle for Oromo liberation is the struggle for Oromo unity. And the struggle continues.
Advocacy for Oromia 