Lessons from Oromo Liberation: The Pitfalls of Factionalism

A Commentary on Factionalism and Fidelity: Lessons from the Oromo Liberation Struggle

The history of any protracted liberation movement is often marked not only by external conflict but by the internal tremors of factionalism and dissent. The Oromo Liberation Front (OLF), as the vanguard of the Oromo national struggle for self-determination, has been no stranger to these internal fractures. A recurring narrative emerges across decades: groups breaking away in protest, creating a moment of internal chaos and heightened rhetoric, only to ultimately seek refuge or alignment with the very forces the movement was founded to oppose.

This pattern is worth examining. In 1998, a faction rebelled, sowing what is described as “chaos” within the struggle’s camp. Soon after, figures like the Biqilcha Sanyii group gathered and surrendered to the TPLF camp—the ruling party in Ethiopia that the OLF was fundamentally contesting. A decade later, in 2008, a group styling itself “Change” staged another revolt, creating a similar atmosphere of internal terror before fragmenting and, like the earlier Lichoo Bukuraa group, entering the TPLF fold.

These episodes, and the more recent schisms post-2018—such as the faction led by Jireenyaa Guddataa—follow a disturbingly familiar script. The dissidents frame all the struggles’ challenges and failures as creations of the OLF leadership itself. They present their rebellion as a necessary corrective, a purifying force. Yet, their trajectory often leads not to the renewal of the struggle, but to its weakening and, paradoxically, to the camp of the adversary.

This recurring fate points to a fundamental, painful lesson for liberation movements: The problem of struggle is not solved by rebellion against one’s own political home.

The immediate allure of schism is clear. It offers a clean break from perceived stagnation, a platform for new voices, and a dramatic claim to moral or strategic superiority. It channels frustration into action, even if that action is turned inward. However, when such rebellions are rooted primarily in opposition—in defining oneself against the parent organization rather than for a coherent, sustainable alternative—they often become politically orphaned. Lacking a deep, independent base and a clear path to victory, they become vulnerable to co-option or absorption by external powers eager to exploit divisions within their opposition.

The commentary concludes with a powerful, counterintuitive axiom: “The problem of struggle is solved by submission to one’s own values and principles, patience and determination to overcome it.”

This is not a call for blind obedience, but for a deeper, more difficult fidelity. It suggests that the solution to internal crisis lies not in fragmentation but in rigorous recommitment to the core values and principles that birthed the movement: self-determination, democratic practice, justice, and the primacy of the Oromo people’s cause. It calls for the patience to engage in internal reform, dialogue, and criticism without the poison of treachery. It demands the determination to endure hardship, strategic setbacks, and internal debate as part of the long march toward liberation.

The historical pattern within the OLF suggests that splits which are reactions, not revolutions—that are born of frustration without a foundational vision—ultimately serve to validate the resilience of the original struggle’s framework, even as they wound it. They become cautionary tales, reminding current and future generations that the most perilous terrain for a liberation movement is often not the battlefield ahead, but the divisive ground under its own feet. True strength, the narrative implies, is found not in the ease of walking away, but in the hard labor of staying, rebuilding, and holding fast to the principles that make the walk meaningful.

Unfinished Liberation: The Oromo People at a Crossroads of Struggle and Resurgence

A PRESENT OF PROTEST, A FUTURE OF POSSIBILITY**

The story of the Oromo people, the largest ethnic group in Ethiopia, has long been narrated as a history of resistance against centuries of marginalization. But history is not a closed book. As the community moves through the 21st century, its narrative is one of a profound and tense present—a reality where deep-rooted political challenges coexist with an unprecedented cultural revival, and where the struggle for self-determination is being redefined by a new generation.

This sixth chapter of Oromo history is not about the past; it is a living document, written daily in protests, in songs, in displacement camps, and in the global halls of advocacy.

The Persistent Political Paradox

Demography has not translated into democracy for the Oromo. Constituting an estimated 35-40% of Ethiopia’s population, they remain in a paradoxical position: a numerical majority without commensurate political power. Critical decisions concerning land, security, and resources are still centralized, leaving many Oromos feeling politically sidelined in their own homeland. This structural marginalization is the bedrock of ongoing discontent and the primary catalyst for the powerful protest movements that have shaken the nation over the past decade.

A Landscape of Insecurity and Displacement

The political tension has a human cost. In recent years, several Oromia regions have been plagued by instability. Reports from human rights organizations and media detail cycles of violence involving armed groups and state security forces, leading to civilian casualties, widespread internal displacement, and persistent allegations of rights abuses. Families have been uprooted, farms abandoned, and a pervasive climate of fear has disrupted the social fabric, casting a long shadow over daily life and economic stability.

The Unbreakable Spirit: Cultural Renaissance

Against this challenging backdrop, a powerful counter-narrative flourishes: a cultural renaissance. The Oromo language, *Afaan Oromo*, once suppressed, is now a working language of the Oromia region and is thriving in media, education, and digital spaces. Oromo music, art, and literature are experiencing a golden age, with artists like the late Hachalu Hundessa becoming national icons of resistance and identity. This cultural reawakening is not a retreat but a reclamation—a tool of resilience and a defiant affirmation of existence. Young people, in particular, wear their Oromo identity with a pride that is both personal and political.

The New Architects: Qeerroo and Qarree

The engines of this new chapter are the youth (*Qeerroo*) and women (*Qarree*). The *Qeerroo* movement, a leaderless network of young Oromos, demonstrated its formidable power in the 2014-2018 protests that helped usher in a political transition. Simultaneously, *Qarree*—Oromo women—are moving powerfully from the background to the forefront, organizing, advocating, and demanding a seat at every table, challenging both external oppression and internal patriarchy. Their grassroots activism represents the most dynamic force in contemporary Oromo society.

A Global Struggle with a Peaceful Heart

Oromo activism has consistently emphasized peaceful resistance, even in the face of violence. This principled stance, coupled with the strategic work of a large and mobilized global diaspora, has successfully internationalized the Oromo question. From parliaments in Washington and Brussels to universities worldwide, the call for Oromo rights and self-determination is now part of the global discourse on human rights and federalism in Ethiopia.

Hope Anchored in Unity and Knowledge

The path forward is fraught but illuminated by a clear vision. Community leaders and intellectuals stress that the future hinges on internal unity, a deep understanding of their own history, and an unwavering commitment to peaceful struggle and dialogue. The goal is not just political change but the building of a society where Oromo identity is the foundation for dignity, justice, and shared prosperity.

Conclusion: A Story Still Being Told

This Oromo history confirms that their story is still unfolding. It is a present-tense narrative of simultaneous pain and power, of loss and limitless cultural vitality. The struggle for a truly equitable place within Ethiopia continues, but it is now carried by a generation armed with history, mobilized by technology, and inspired by an unbroken spirit. The Oromo history, as it is written today, remains—above all—a enduring story of survival, resistance, and an undimmed hope for a future of their own making.

New Year, New Hope: Oromo Youth Demand Freedom

Feature News: A New Year’s Covenant – Oromo Youth Pledge Action to Fulfill “The Price of Freedom”

As the Oromo community worldwide celebrated the dawn of a new year, a powerful and solemn pledge emerged from its youth vanguard, framing the occasion not just as a celebration, but as a moment of collective accounting and renewed commitment.

In a statement reflecting the spirit of the season, representatives of the Oromo youth movement affirmed their core aspirations: “Our hope is for the freedom, dignity, peace, and security of our people.” This declaration, however, was immediately coupled with a stark acknowledgment of responsibility. They stated they stand firmly “under the vanguard of the Qeerroo Bilisummaa Oromoo (QBO), which is led by the OLF,” ready to shoulder the burden required to make that hope a reality.

The most striking element of their message was the concept of a debt to be paid. “To fulfill that hope… we have paid and will continue to pay the necessary price,” the statement read. This “price” is understood as the immense sacrifices—lives lost, freedoms curtailed, and years of struggle—endured by the Oromo people throughout generations of what they term “the darkness of subjugation.”

The message transforms New Year’s optimism into a blueprint for action. It positions the coming year not as a passive waiting period, but as an active campaign to “lead our people from the darkness of subjugation into the light of freedom.” This imagery powerfully defines their political struggle as a journey toward enlightenment and liberation.

The closing acclamations—“Long live the OLF! Victory is for our people!”—root this forward-looking energy in the existing political structure and collective identity. It confirms the QBO’s alignment with the Oromo Liberation Front’s historical mission while placing the agency for the final push squarely on the shoulders of the mobilized youth.

Analysts see this statement as a significant articulation of the movement’s current phase. It moves beyond protest and resistance toward a language of fulfillment and debt settlement. The youth are not just asking for freedom; they are announcing their intention to actively “pay for it” through continued struggle and sacrifice, seeing themselves as the executors of a long-held national promise.

The feature of this news is its encapsulation of a pivotal mindset: the Oromo New Year has become a time to audit the balance sheet of the struggle. The hopes are the credit; the sacrifices are the debit. The message from the youth is clear—they are committed to closing the ledger, whatever the cost, until the account of freedom is settled. The journey from darkness to light, they assert, is a bill they are prepared to pay in full.

Celebrating Oromo Strength: Lessons from D.C. Gathering

May be an image of studying, television and text

Feature Commentary: The Covenant Renewed – How a Washington D.C. Celebration Forged a Blueprint for Continuity

On the surface, the gathering by the Washington D.C. chapter of the Oromo Liberation Front (OLF-Konyaa) was a familiar ritual: the commemoration of Oromo Liberation Army (WBO) Day and the celebration of Amajjii, the Oromo New Year. Yet, within the traditional prayers (eebba), speeches, and shared resolve, a powerful and sophisticated blueprint for the struggle’s future was being articulated—one that skillfully wove together gratitude, clear-eyed assessment, intergenerational blessing, and a philosophy of endurance.

The ceremony, opened by the spiritual invocation of veteran leader Jaal Qaxalee Waaqjiraa, immediately grounded the political in the spiritual. His thanksgiving prayer, “We thank God who, after years of wandering, has brought us here,” was profoundly layered. It acknowledged a journey—a long, arduous “wandering” of exile, displacement, and conflict—while celebrating the “here”: a community intact, organized, and capable of gathering in defiance of that very displacement. It framed the present not as an endpoint, but as a providentially granted platform, creating a sense of both debt and opportunity.

This spiritual framing set the stage for a starkly realistic assessment from chapter chairperson Jaal Bilisummaa Tasgara. By openly detailing “the current situation of the struggle,” he performed a crucial act of transparency. There was no empty triumphalism. Instead, there was a communal acknowledgment of the “complex and difficult” (ulfaataa) reality. This honesty is the bedrock of trust and mature mobilization. It prevents disillusionment and transforms collective understanding from a source of despair into a foundation for strategic perseverance. As he noted, the day was both a “day of mourning and celebration,” a duality that honestly captures the Oromo condition—grieving the fallen while celebrating the unbroken spirit.

From this realistic ground sprang the core directive: “Our people must become stronger and more resilient.” This was not a vague wish but a clear, operational imperative. The call for jabeenya (strength) and ijaarsa (building/construction) shifts the focus from merely reacting to oppression to proactively building communal, institutional, and personal fortitude. It answers the “how” of continuing in a difficult phase.

The most poignant moment of strategic continuity was the virtual participation of legendary elder Jaal Dhugaasaa Bakakkoo. His Zoom presence was a powerful technological bridge across time. By thanking him for his “guidance and perseverance,” the assembly did more than honor a hero; it ritually drew a line of legitimacy and tactical wisdom from the founding generation directly into the present. It signaled that the current path is not a divergence but an inheritance, blessed by those who laid the first stones.

This synthesis of elements reveals a sophisticated political culture. The event masterfully connected:

  1. Spiritual Legitimacy (Eebba) with Political Analysis.
  2. Honest Acknowledgment of Hardship with a Call for Proactive Strength.
  3. Reverence for the Past with a Practical Roadmap for the Future.

The closing reflection, “Our struggle is alive and will continue to be remembered as one with a clear direction and sustainable objective,” is thus not a hopeful slogan but a conclusion drawn from the evening’s architecture. They have defined “alive” not as mere existence, but as the state of being guided, united, building strength, and connected to one’s source.

The Washington D.C. celebration, therefore, was a masterclass in sustaining a liberation movement in the long haul. It moved beyond mere remembrance into the realm of active stewardship. It showed that the covenant of struggle is renewed not by ignoring the present cost, but by confronting it with faith, honesty, unity, and an unwavering commitment to building the resilience needed to see the journey through. The message was clear: the wandering has brought us to this point of clarity. Now, we build, we endure, and we march, strengthened by the very weight of the journey itself.

Revival of Sirna Goobaa: A New Dawn for Oromo Governance

May be an image of one or more people

Feature News: Dawn Reclamation – Oromo Gadaa Assembly Ushers in New Era at Historic Tarree Leedii Site

FANTAALLEE, SHAWA BAHAA, OROMIA – In a powerful act of cultural restoration and communal resolve, the Oromo Gadaa system of the Karrayyuu region has formally reinstated its traditional assembly, the Sirna Goobaa, at the sacred grounds of Ardaa Jilaa, Tarree Leedii. This landmark gathering, conducted at dawn on Saturday according to sacred custom, marks not just a meeting, but the revival of an ancient democratic and spiritual heartbeat in Eastern Shawa.

The ceremony, led by Abbaa Gadaas, elders, and community representatives, began in the pre-dawn hours, adhering strictly to the profound rituals and aesthetics of Oromo tradition. Participants gathered under the ancient trees of Ardaa Jilaa, a site long held as a seat of ancestral wisdom and collective decision-making, to reignite the principles of the Sirna Goobaa—the assembly of law, justice, and social order.

“This is not a symbolic gesture; it is a homecoming,” declared one senior elder, his voice echoing in the crisp morning air. “We are reclaiming our space, our process, and our responsibility to govern ourselves according to the laws of our forefathers and the balance of nature. The Goobaa is where our society heals, deliberates, and progresses.”

The choice of location and time is deeply significant. Tarree Leedii is historically a cornerstone of socio-political life for the Karrayyuu. By convening at dawn (ganamaa), the assembly honors the Oromo cosmological view that links the freshness of the morning with clarity, purity, and the blessing of Waaqaa (the Supreme Creator). The meticulous observance of rituals involving sacred items, chants (weeduu), and the pouring of libations underscores a commitment to authenticity and spiritual sanction.

Community members, young and old, observed in reverent silence as the protocols unfolded. For many youth, it was a first-time witnessing of the full, unbroken ceremony. “To see our governance system in action, here on this land, is transformative,” said a young university student in attendance. “It connects the history we read about directly to our future. It shows our systems are alive.”

The reinstatement of the Sirna Goobaa at Ardaa Jilaa sends a resonant message beyond the borders of Fantuallee District. It represents a grassroots-driven renaissance of indigenous Oromo governance, asserting its relevance and authority in contemporary community life. It serves as a forum to address local disputes, environmental concerns, and social cohesion through the framework of Gadaa principles—Mooraa (council), Raqaa (law), and Seera (covenant).

Analysts view this move as part of a broader movement across Oromia where communities are actively revitalizing Gadaa and Waaqeffannaa institutions as pillars of cultural identity and self-determination. The successful convening at Tarree Leedii demonstrates local agency and the enduring power of these systems to mobilize and inspire.

As the sun rose over the assembly, illuminating the faces of the gathered, the event concluded with a collective affirmation for peace, justice, and unity. The revival of the Sirna Goobaa at this historic site is a dawn in every sense—a new beginning for community-led governance, a reconnection with ancestral wisdom, and a bold statement that the Gadaa of the Karrayyuu is once again in session, ready to guide its people forward.

Oromo Diaspora’s Commitment: Honoring the Liberation Struggle

May be an image of one or more people and text

In Cairo, a Distant Diaspora Keeps the Flame Alive: Commemorating the Oromo Liberation Struggle

CAIRO – In a gathering marked by solemn reflection and resilient spirit, the Oromo community in Cairo recently commemorated Oromo Liberation Army (OLA) Day on January 1, 2026. The event was more than a calendar observance; it was a powerful act of collective memory, a reaffirmation of identity, and a declaration of unwavering commitment to a cause that spans decades and continents.

The atmosphere was charged with the weight of history. As noted by Mr. Nasralla Abdu, Chairman of the Association, the day serves a dual purpose: to honor the souls of fallen freedom fighters and to fortify the resolve of those who continue the struggle. This is not mere ritual; it is the lifeblood of a diaspora movement, a vital mechanism to ensure that distance does not dilute purpose nor time erode sacrifice.

The historical anchor of the commemoration, as recounted, is crucial. The reference to the OLA’s reconstitution in 1980, following the severe challenges of the late 1970s, transforms April 1st from a simple date into a symbol of regeneration and stubborn endurance. It marks a moment when the struggle, against formidable odds, chose to persist. Celebrating this anniversary yearly, as the chairman explained, is to ritually reaffirm that same choice to persist, generation after generation.

The testimonies from attendees cut to the heart of the matter. For them, this was an “anniversary of covenant”—a renewal of the sacred promise to the struggle—and a moment of remembrance for those who paid the “ultimate price.” This language transcends politics; it enters the realm of collective oath and sacred duty. Furthermore, their powerful statement linking the ongoing sacrifice of Oromo people inside the homeland—for their identity, culture, history, and land—to the diaspora’s obligation to “stand in solidarity and fight for our people’s rights” creates a potent bridge. It connects the internal resistance with external advocacy, framing a unified struggle on two fronts.

This event in Cairo is a microcosm of a global phenomenon. It demonstrates how diasporas function as custodians of history and amplifiers of voice when direct expression at home is constrained. The careful observance in Egypt underscores that the Oromo quest for recognition, justice, and self-determination is not confined by geography. It is nurtured in community halls abroad as much as it is in the hearts of people within Oromia.

Ultimately, the commemoration was a tapestry woven with threads of grief, pride, and ironclad resolution. It acknowledged a painful past of loss and “severe circumstances,” celebrated the resilience that emerged from it, and boldly projected that spirit into an uncertain future. As long as such gatherings occur—where names are remembered, covenants renewed, and solidarity declared—the narrative of the Oromo struggle remains alive, authored not just by fighters on the ground but by communities in exile holding vigil for the dawn they believe must come.

Oromo New Year Birboo: Tradition and Unity in Waaqeffannaa Faith

May be an image of crowd and tree

Feature News: Celebrating Heritage and Harmony – Waaqeffannaa Faithful Usher in Oromo New Year 6420 at Walisoo Liiban Temple

WALISOO LIIBAN, OROMIA – In a profound celebration of cultural rebirth and spiritual unity, the Waaqeffannaa faithful gathered at the sacred Galma Amantaa (House of Worship) here on Thursday to solemnly and joyfully observe the Oromo New Year, Birboo, marking the dawn of the year 6420.

The ceremony was far more than a ritual; it was a powerful reaffirmation of an ancient identity, a prayer for peace, and a community’s declaration of continuity. Under the sacred Ficus tree (Odaa) that stands as a central pillar of the Galma, elders, families, and youth came together in a vibrant display of thanksgiving (Galata) to Waaqaa (the Supreme Creator) and reverence for nature and ancestry.

The air was thick with the fragrance of burning incense (qumbii) and the sound of traditional hymns (weeduu) as the Qalluu (spiritual leader) guided the congregation through prayers for blessing, prosperity, and, above all, peace for the coming year. The central message of the celebration, as echoed by the organizers, was a heartfelt benediction for the entire Oromo nation: “May this New Year bring you peace, love, and unity!” (Barri kun kan nagaa, jaalalaafi tokkummaa isiniif haa ta’u!).

This public and dignified observance of Birboo carries deep significance in the contemporary context of Oromia. As Ethiopia’s largest ethnic group navigates complex social and political landscapes, the celebration at Walisoo Liiban served as a potent symbol of cultural resilience.

“Observing Birboo at our Galma is not just about marking a calendar,” explained an elder attending the ceremony. “It is about remembering who we are. It is about connecting our past to our future, grounding ourselves in the values of balance, respect for all creation, and community that Waaqeffannaa teaches. In praying for peace, we are actively willing it into being for our people.”

The sight of children learning the rituals and youths actively participating underscored a vital theme: the intergenerational transmission of indigenous knowledge and spirituality. The celebration was a living classroom, ensuring that the philosophy of Safuu (moral and ethical order) and the connection to the Oromo calendar, based on sophisticated astronomical observation, are not relegated to history books but remain a vibrant part of community life.

The event concluded with a communal meal, sharing of blessings, and a collective sense of renewal. As the sun set on the first day of 6420, the message from the Galma Amantaa at Walisoo Liiban was clear and resonant. It was a declaration that the Oromo spirit, guided by its ancient covenant with Waaqaa and nature, remains unbroken, steadfastly hoping for and working towards a year—and a future—defined by nagaa (peace), jaalala (love), and tokkummaa (unity).

The Legacy of Oromo Founders: Unfinished Business

Feature Commentary: The Unclaimed Inheritance – On the Unfinished Debt to Oromoo’s Founders

In the sacred narrative of the Oromo struggle, certain names are whispered with reverence, not merely as historical footnotes, but as living accusations against the present. The story of Hotel Jibaat and Maccaa, and the founding father Ob. Beellamaa Futtaasaa, is one such story. It is not a eulogy for the departed; it is a mirror held up to the community, revealing an unsettling and unresolved question of legacy, debt, and collective conscience.

The tale is stark in its simplicity. When the modern Oromo political struggle was ignited in Ambo, it was men like Ob. Beellamaa Futtaasaa—owners of the Hotel Jibaat and Maccaa—who provided the crucial, tangible infrastructure. Their support was not passive sympathy; it was the active, risky bedrock upon which early organizing was built. Their hotel was not just a business; it was a sanctuary, a meeting hall, a nerve center for the nascent Oromo Liberation Front (OLF). They were, as the text states, “hundeessitoota”—foundational pillars—who stood with the architects of the political dream.

The piercing tragedy, however, lies in the chilling coda to this foundation story: “Today… their descendants are in want.”

This single line unravels a profound moral and social contradiction. The children and grandchildren of those who provided the deeggarsa qabsoo hidhannoo—the support that sustained the struggle in its most fragile, clandestine phase—are now left struggling. Their material inheritance has seemingly evaporated, and the immense social capital of their forefathers’ sacrifice has not translated into security or dignity. The comparison drawn is as painful as it is deliberate: while the children of other heroes (like Ob. Daraaraa) are seen to have flourished, the lineage of Beellamaa Futtaasaa faces neglect.

This is more than a family’s hardship. It is a fracture in the very covenant of the struggle. A movement built on principles of justice, self-determination, and collective upliftment now stands accused of failing its most immediate creditors—the families of its earliest benefactors. The hotel that once housed the dream now symbolically stands empty for its heirs.

The commentary this situation demands is multifaceted:

First, on the Nature of Sacrifice: The story forces a reckoning with what we value in our history. We glorify the martyr on the battlefield and the political theorist, but often forget the enabler—the one who risked property, livelihood, and safety to create the space for the movement to breathe. Their contribution, though less cinematic, was equally vital. By forgetting them, we create a hierarchy of sacrifice that is both unjust and historically myopic.

Second, on the Ethics of Legacy: Every revolutionary movement eventually grapples with the transition from struggle to governance, from resistance to responsibility. A core part of that responsibility is social and historical accountability. Have the structures built by the struggle—whether formal institutions or community networks—developed a mechanism to honor and support the living legacies of its founders? The plight of the Fitaaxaa family suggests a failing grade. It raises the uncomfortable question: does the movement consume its own, leaving the children of its hosts to face the bill?

Third, on Collective Amnesia and Power: There is a dangerous tendency in evolving political movements to become forward-obsessed, to distance themselves from the “old stories” in a rush to claim new ground. But this amnesia is a form of power. It allows new elites to consolidate status while disengaging from the foundational debts that morally bind them. Remembering Beellamaa Fitaaxaa is not nostalgia; it is an act of political hygiene, a check against the corrupting notion that the present leadership owes nothing to the past.

Finally, on the Meaning of Victory: If the ultimate goal of the Qabsoo is nagaa fi bilisummaa—peace and freedom—what does that freedom mean? Surely, it must encompass a community where the descendants of those who poured the foundation are not left destitute. A struggle that cannot care for the children of its first guardians risks winning a hollow prize, a state or a recognition that has lost its moral compass.

The story of Hotel Jibaat and Maccaa is, therefore, an urgent parable. It is a call for the Oromo nation—its leadership, its diaspora, its institutions—to conduct an audit not just of its political strategies, but of its conscience. It is a demand to reclaim that inheritance of collective responsibility.

The physical hotel may be gone, but the debt it represents remains outstanding. Until it is addressed, the struggle’s claim to justice will carry this quiet, haunting contradiction. True victory will not be complete until the heirs of those who housed the revolution are themselves brought in from the cold. The seeds they watered must bear fruit for their own garden as well.

 Beyond Celebration: Edmonton’s Amajjii as a Covenant of Continuity

A photo of the gathered community, with a focus on Jaal Dhugaasaa Bakakkoo addressing the crowd or a group shot with the Oromo flag.

In Edmonton, the Oromo New Year (Amajjii 1) and World Brotherhood Day (WBO) were marked by more than tradition—they were a powerful statement of institutional endurance and collective will.

The OLF Edmonton Konya’s celebration was graced by the presence of a foundational leader, Jaal Dhugaasaa Bakakkoo, a former WBO executive and senior OLF figure. His attendance symbolized a vital bridge between the struggle’s history and its living, active diaspora heartbeat.

The core of the gathering was a shared focus on “jabeenya jaarmiyaa”the strength of the institution. Attendees engaged in constructive dialogue (yaada ijaaraa waliif qooduu), understanding that the organization itself is the bedrock of the long journey to freedom.

Crucially, the event’s organizers were honored for a specific, vital duty: ensuring that “support and sustenance for the freedom struggle continues to receive continuity.” This reframes diaspora community work as a direct, indispensable lifeline.

As one attendee powerfully stated, the act of organizing such a program is itself a declaration: “By organizing this, saying ‘we are here!’ (ni jirra!) is a duty and a task that must continue.”

From the Canadian prairies, the message is clear: Our presence is our promise. Our organization is our strength. The struggle continues, fueled by unity and unwavering resolve.

Baga guyyaa Amajjii 1 geessan! ✊

#Amajjii #WBO #OromoNewYear #OLF #Edmonton #OromoDiaspora #NiJirra #InstitutionalStrength #Bilisummaa #Oromia

Ilfinash Qannoo: A Symbol of Oromo Resilience

News Feature: The Unbroken Flame – Ilfinash Qannoo Embodies a Lifetime of Struggle and Steadfastness

GULLALLE, OROMIA – In the bustling activity of the Oromo Liberation Front (OLF) headquarters this Amajji 1 celebration, one figure sits with a quiet, palpable gravity. Ilfinash Qannoo, her body bearing the weight of years and the toll of relentless struggle, is a living archive of the Oromo quest for freedom. Too weak to stand, too ill to move independently, she is carried to gatherings, not as an invalid, but as a revered ember of the movement’s enduring fire.

Her presence is a testament, not to frailty, but to an indomitable will. It is the final, physical testament of a life offered completely—uleetti rarraatee—stretched across the altar of the Oromo struggle. Her commitment, born of a profound and unwavering love for the cause, saw her pour her energy into every space she could reach, for as long as she could manage, until her very body could no longer sustain the pace of the fight.

Today, on Oromo World Brotherhood Day (WBO), surrounded by a new generation of activists and leaders at the OLF Gullalle office, Ilfinash Qannoo’s role has transformed from frontline mobilizer to living monument and moral compass. Her journey is a bridge connecting the sacrifices of the past to the responsibilities of the present.

“A Seed That Moves Does Not Rot; The Dead Do Not Rise, So Do Not Fear Them.”

This powerful Oromo proverb, evoked by those who know her story, encapsulates her legacy. Ilfinash Qannoo was never static. She was a “seed” that moved—organizing, advocating, supporting—ensuring the ideas of liberation never stagnated or “rotted” in passivity. Her life’s work was to keep the movement in motion.

Now, her physical stillness speaks volumes. It forces a confrontation with the cost of the struggle and the solemn duty of those who remain. “Do not fear the dead,” the proverb advises, urging the living to act with the courage of those who can no longer stand. In her silent, observant presence, she embodies this charge, a silent reminder that the true threat is not the fallen, but the inaction of those who inherit their dreams.

Her life has been one of radical interdependence—naamaan deeggaramtee—leaning on and being leaned upon by the community she helped build. From providing shelter and intelligence in perilous times to offering counsel and moral support, her strength was always relational, woven into the fabric of the collective struggle.

As officials and well-wishers approach her chair on this day of celebration, they do not offer pity. They offer kabaja—deep respect. They bend to whisper words of gratitude, to seek a silent blessing from her weary eyes. The whispers that surround her are not about illness, but about endurance; not about an ending, but about a transcendent persistence.

Ulfaadhu, umurii dheeradhu jenna!” – “Be strong, may you have long life!” is the fervent wish expressed for her. It is a wish for the longevity of the spirit she represents: the spirit of self-sacrifice, unconditional love for the cause, and an resilience that refuses to be extinguished.

Ilfinash Qannoo, in her dignified fragility, is more than an individual. She is a symbol. She represents every parent who lost a child, every activist who endured prison, every anonymous supporter who carried the movement forward in shadows. On this Amajji 1, as the Oromo people worldwide celebrate their brotherhood and identity, the image of Ilfinash Qannoo, carried to the heart of the movement’s headquarters, serves as the most profound reminder: that the journey is long, the cost is high, and the flame, once lit by love, must be tended by every generation.

Her silent message echoes in the hall: The seed must keep moving. Do not let it rot. And do not fear—build the future with the courage her life has demanded.