“Dabeessi afaan goota, yoo diina arge hoota.” (A coward speaks like a hero, but flees at the sight of the enemy.)
In the period of transformation, a desire emerged among some activists from the Oromo Liberation Front (ABO) and the Oromo Federalist Congress (KFO) to meet and exchange views. This led to an unusual gathering at the residence of Jawar Mohammed—a meeting that would later become a source of profound reflection for those who attended.
The story of that day, and the subsequent events, reveals a complex narrative about leadership, media representation, and the ownership of a people’s struggle.
The Summons and the Scrutiny
Darajjee Margaa, who at the time had a role in the KFO concerning youth affairs, acted as an intermediary. He was contacted by Jawar Mohammed, who expressed a desire to discuss important matters with several youth from the ABO. Darajjee then extended the invitation to a group of us.
On the appointed day, about 15 of us assembled and went to Jawar’s residence in Bole. The atmosphere was laden with suspicion. Before we entered, we were subjected to a thorough security check. We were disarmed—our phones and even our pens were taken from us. The justification given was the fear that if we recorded the conversation, it could be weaponized against them.
This act of stripping us of our basic belongings set the tone for a meeting that was meant to be a dialogue but felt more like an interrogation. It was the first time most of us had seen Jawar in person. He appeared to us not as the figure we saw on television, but as someone seated in a posture we found peculiar—sitting low like a Somali woman selling jima (khat) at a market.
The Core of the Conversation
Once the formalities were over, Jawar laid out his intentions. He stated that the struggle had moved past the phase of confrontation, and now it was time to work for the people. He urged the youth, whom he acknowledged had paid a heavy price in the struggle, to join him in this new endeavor. He raised a crucial question for debate: Should he found a new political party? Or should he join the existing ABO or KFO? Or should he continue as an activist?
This was the moment for us to speak. I took the opportunity to respond with two critical points:
- The Silence on Atrocities: I questioned Jawar’s moral standing, pointing out that while he spoke of struggle, he remained silent on the fate of Oromo prisoners and massacres. I asked him why he had not raised his voice against the suffering of Oromos. “Why are you silent when Oromos are being imprisoned and killed?”
- The Redundancy of a New Party: I argued that the Oromo people do not need a new party. The existing structures—the ABO and KFO—are sufficient vehicles for the struggle. If he wished to serve the people, he should join one of these existing organizations. “The Oromo people do not need a new party. The ABO and KFO are enough for us.”
The meeting was charged with emotion. Fellow youth, particularly those from Guji, were visibly angry and spoke with deep frustration.
The Interview with Tom Gardner and the “Father of Qeerroo”
Following the meeting, a documentary filmmaker named Tom Gardner from the UK began researching the Oromo youth movement. He interviewed many figures, including Jawar Mohammed, and then approached me for an interview at the Hyatt Regency in Finfinne.
During the interview, Tom asked a series of pivotal questions regarding the emergence of the Qeerroo (Oromo Youth) movement. He wanted to know when I joined and how the movement was organized.
In my response, I clarified that while the youth movement had existed since 2005, it was formalized as the “Qeerroo Bilisummaa Oromoo” (QBO) in 2011. I explained that this structure was established under the umbrella of the ABO, with its leaders reporting to ABO officials. I emphasized that Jawar Mohammed had no role in founding the QBO; his influence came much later, around 2014, and was limited to social media activism.
When Tom Gardner indicated that Jawar had claimed to be the leader of the Qeerroo, I felt it was necessary to correct the record. I urged Tom to interview more youth who had been actively involved in the struggle from 2014 to 2018, assuring him they would confirm that the leadership and direction came from the ABO, not from Jawar.
The Fight for Truth
Later, I learned that Jawar was attempting to claim ownership of the Qeerroo movement. He aimed to position himself as the “Father of Qeerroo” to legitimize his political ambitions and draw youth away from the ABO and KFO. This was a betrayal of the trust of the youth who had sacrificed so much.
The narrative that Jawar was the architect of the Qeerroo movement is a distortion. The QBO was established in 2011 by the ABO, and its legitimacy is rooted in its connection to the Oromo people’s long struggle for freedom, not in the media campaigns of an individual.
A Final Reflection
Jawar Mohammed has used his platform for personal gain. He has surrounded himself with people who flatter him, failing to build a genuine relationship with the courageous youth who have endured imprisonment and the frontlines. In my view, he is like a dog that barks endlessly, but in the end, it is the bite that reveals true intent.
The Oromo struggle is bigger than any single individual. The history of our freedom is written by those who have sacrificed, not by those who seek to rewrite it for their own benefit.
It is my duty to tell this story so that the Oromo people may know the truth about those who seek to lead them.
Oromedia 