A Scholar Between Two Worlds: Professor Asmerom Legesse Laid to Rest in Asmara
The renowned anthropologist, who bridged Eritrean patriotism with pioneering scholarship on Oromo democracy, was honored at a state funeral after his body was returned from the United States for burial.
Asmara — A funeral service for Professor Asmerom Legesse was held today at Asmara’s Evangelical Lutheran Church Cemetery, bringing home one of the Horn of Africa’s most distinguished intellectual figures for burial in the land of his birth .
The ceremony was attended by Ministers, senior government and PFDJ officials, religious leaders, and family members, reflecting the high esteem in which Professor Legesse was held by the Eritrean state . His body had been transported from the United States, where he passed away on 31 January at the age of 94 .
The Ministry of Foreign Affairs expressed “deep sorrow” over his passing, conveying condolences to his family and friends in an official statement.
A towering intellectual figure
Professor Asmerom was a prominent and illustrious anthropologist who produced important research during his tenure at some of America’s most prestigious institutions, including Harvard, Boston, Northwestern, and Chicago universities. A Harvard-trained anthropologist, he served as Emeritus Professor of Anthropology at Swarthmore College.
His scholarship spanned more than half a century, during which he conducted extensive field research among the Oromo people of Ethiopia and Kenya, living among Borana and other Oromo communities to understand the intricate workings of the Gadaa system from within .
His seminal 1973 work, Gada: Three Approaches to the Study of African Society, introduced the world to the sophisticated constitutional and democratic principles embedded in the Gadaa system. The book was revolutionary in its methodology and presented Gadaa as a highly developed system of checks and balances, age-set organization, and rotational leadership that had governed Oromo society for centuries.
Nearly three decades later, he published Oromo Democracy: An Indigenous African Political System (2000), which became the most authoritative scholarly work on the subject and was instrumental in UNESCO’s recognition of Gadaa as an Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity in 2016.
Two homelands, one legacy
Professor Legesse’s life embodied the complex intertwining of Eritrean and Oromo histories. Born in 1931 in Geza Kenisha, Asmara, he grew up in the same area where the pioneering Oromo scholar Onesimos Nesib had sought refuge and translated the Bible into Afaan Oromoo more than a century earlier. Advocacy for Oromia noted this “physical proximity” as a powerful metaphor, linking the spiritual resilience of those earlier figures with Professor Legesse’s intellectual fortitude in defending Oromo identity.
For the Oromo people, he became known as “Abbaa Gadaa”—a symbolic recognition of his role as a guardian of their threatened heritage. The Oromo Studies Association described him as a “kinsman of the Oromo people” whose work on Oromo customs, history, and culture significantly advanced understanding of political and social systems across Africa.
Defender of Eritrea
Beyond his academic achievements, Professor Legesse served his country and people in various capacities over four decades. From 1984 until independence, he served as Chairman of the U.S. branch of the Eritrean Relief Association, supporting Eritrea’s liberation struggle.
In 1998, he published well-researched documents on atrocities perpetrated by the Ethiopian regime against Eritreans and Ethiopians of Eritrean origin. He also documented and exposed extensive gender-based violence committed by the Ethiopian army during its occupation of various areas, particularly in the Senafe sub-zone during the border war.
In 2015, he played a significant role in countering what Eritrea viewed as attempts to dehumanize the nation through allegations of human rights violations, preparing a critique of the UN Human Rights Commission on Eritrea for a meeting at the House of Lords in the United Kingdom.
A complex political geography
Professor Legesse’s life was not without political complication. In 2017, despite his stature as the world’s leading authority on Gadaa and an invitation to attend a historic Gadaa power transfer ceremony in Borana, the Ethiopian government refused to issue him a visa, citing his Eritrean background . The incident reflected the tragic political tensions that for decades prevented scholarly exchange between the two countries.
Yet his influence on Oromo scholarship remained profound. Ezekiel Gebissa, professor of history and African studies at Kettering University, wrote in a tribute: “For the Oromo people, whose culture Asmarom studied for more than half a century, death is not an ending but a passage from the world of binary reality to the realm of singularity. It is fitting to imagine him joining the ancestors he so often wrote about”.
An enduring legacy
Professor Legesse’s work challenged colonial narratives that had dismissed African governance systems as primitive or lacking in sophistication. The Oromia Culture and Tourism Bureau emphasized that his life’s work preserved the Oromo Gadaa system and documented its practices for future generations, serving as a bridge for knowledge and scholarship.
The Oromo Liberation Front issued a statement describing his passing as a significant loss to the Oromo community. “His research highlighted Gadaa’s principles of equality, leadership rotation, and social cohesion, positioning it as a model of African democracy,” the statement read.
At his funeral in Asmara, the gathering of state officials, religious leaders, and family members honored a man who had walked many paths—from the shearing sheds of his youth to the hallowed halls of Harvard, from the remote airstrips of Farrer to the Gadaa assemblies of Borana. His final manuscript, Gada: Democratic Institutions of the Borana Oromo, is expected to be published posthumously.
“His work did not merely preserve the past,” wrote OROMIA TODAY in a tribute. “It equipped future generations with evidence and language to assert historical truth”.
“A Country Without Freedom”: Veteran Journalist Zeru Belay Exposes Decades of State Control Over Ethiopian Media
In a searing personal account, the veteran reporter reveals how governments from Meles Zenawi to Abiy Ahmed have manipulated, intimidated, and suppressed independent journalism
ADDIS ABABA — For three decades, Zeru Belay worked inside the belly of the beast. As a reporter, editor, and finally a senior figure at Ethiopian Television, he witnessed firsthand how successive regimes turned the state broadcaster into an instrument of control rather than a source of information. Now, in a lengthy and devastating personal account, he has pulled back the curtain on the systematic manipulation that has defined Ethiopian media for generations .
“Among the institutions the government controls through its officials, extending its hand deep into their operations, state media are at the forefront,” Belay writes. “And Ethiopian Television, which until recently was the only broadcaster, has attracted the most attention from government officials. If I said that Ethiopian Television is the leading institution where officials use their authority to interfere, I would not be exaggerating” .
The Meles Zenawi Era: When a Reporter’s Words Became a Crime
Belay’s account begins with a chilling anecdote from the Meles Zenawi era that illustrates the impossible position of journalists under authoritarian rule .
He was assigned to cover a discussion between Prime Minister Meles Zenawi and Addis Ababa University professors. When Meles made a remark suggesting the professors seemed “stuck in a garrison mentality,” Belay reported it as news. The report aired, and the next day, the country was in an uproar .
Belay was summoned by his manager, Assefa Bekele, and told they needed to visit Berket Simon, a senior official. At the office, Berket was “consumed by rage.” He rushed the assembled media professionals to Meles’s parking garage—a secure area that felt less like a meeting place and more like an interrogation room .
There, surrounded by security, Berket demanded to know why Belay had aired Meles’s remark. When Belay responded, “I don’t understand what mistake I made,” Berket’s anger intensified. “How can you say you don’t understand? You’re making news by snatching words from people’s mouths and you say you don’t understand?”
Belay stood his ground: “Unless I fabricated it myself, what is my mistake? Didn’t Ato Meles say those words?”
Berket then shifted tactics: “The words Ato Meles spoke are not your fabrication. He spoke them correctly. But how did you, as a responsible journalist, fail to consider why he said them?”
The argument continued, with Belay alone defending himself while other journalists and officials remained silent. Finally, Berket asked a question designed to destroy: “How are you different from a blogger?” At the time, bloggers were considered troublemakers by the government .
Belay understood he had reached the edge. “I realized nothing I said would help. If this man falls on me, or I fall on him, I would be the one to break.” He conceded: “I should have considered what you said.”
The resolution was telling. Belay was told a program would be produced presenting Meles’s full remarks. When he submitted the script, Berket reviewed it carefully and approved it. “At least the media will gain credibility,” he said. But Belay had been placed on a blacklist for simply reporting what the Prime Minister said .
The Price of Truth: Threats and Blacklists
Belay’s account reveals that journalists who reported uncomfortable truths paid a price—even when those truths came directly from the mouths of the most powerful officials. His “crime” was not fabrication or distortion, but failing to “consider” why Meles said what he said—in other words, failing to self-censor in advance .
This created an impossible professional environment. Journalists could not simply report what officials said; they had to anticipate how their words might be received, what interpretations might be drawn, and whether reporting the truth would be seen as a betrayal. The journalist’s duty to inform became subordinate to the official’s desire to control narrative and perception .
A Leader Who Protected Journalists: The Solome Tadesa Story
Yet Belay’s account also reveals that even within this oppressive system, some officials protected journalistic integrity at tremendous personal risk .
During a period of student unrest at Addis Ababa University in 1993 E.C. (2000/01 G.C.), Belay and colleague Shelesh Shibru were sent to cover the protests. When they arrived, police initially blocked them, but they persuaded the commander to let them in .
Inside, they found a student who had been beaten and was bleeding. When they tried to document it, some students objected: “We won’t allow you to mock our blood! We know you!” A heated debate divided students—some supporting coverage, others opposing .
Those supporting coverage prevailed, and Belay documented the blood and the damaged dormitory. Returning to the office, they reported to their editor, Solome Tadesa. After viewing the footage, Solomon insisted the blood must air. When Belay and Shibru tried to argue, Solome held firm: “By no means should the blood be omitted, but add doctors’ commentary about the injury”.
The report aired, and the protests spread nationwide—to Alemaya University, Jimma University, and beyond. Then-Minister of Education Genet Zewdie called Solomon with a threatening message: “Because of the blood you showed, all the country’s students have risen. Congratulations.”
Solome’s response was remarkable: “We broadcast the truth. If you want to harm anyone, you can do whatever you want to me—but don’t let anything happen to the journalists.”
Belay reflects: “We had a leader who would defend journalists like that. But they didn’t last.”
Government Interference Without Limit
Belay’s decades of experience at Ethiopian Television newsroom taught him that interference from officials is constant and without limit. As a result, journalists face immense challenges in maintaining their professional independence .
He describes rising through the ranks to become an editor—a role that involves shaping news, ensuring proper packaging, and supervising evening broadcasts. At every level, he witnessed how officials’ interests determined what Ethiopians could see and hear .
The pattern Belay describes is consistent across regimes: journalists who report uncomfortable truths face intimidation, blacklisting, and threats. Those who survive learn to anticipate what officials want—to self-censor before anyone has to tell them. The result is media that serves power rather than the public.
Who Is Zeru Belay?
Belay concludes his account with a brief autobiography, grounding his critique in the lived experience of a man who rose from humble beginnings to become one of Ethiopia’s most experienced journalists .
Born in Woreilu, Wollo Province, in the Jama district, in a place called Aley, Belay began his education in Degolo town under a traditional teacher (nebab bet) before attending Degolo Elementary School. He completed junior secondary in Degolo and secondary at Woreilu Comprehensive Secondary School .
When his matriculation results weren’t as expected, he left Wollo for Addis Ababa, where he used tailoring skills learned from his father to earn money selling second-hand clothes on the street. But national military service was announced, disrupting his plans. After trying to avoid conscription, he eventually served, receiving officer training and being commissioned as a lieutenant in the Tigray front, 16th Division, 120th Brigade, in Adigrat .
After four years, he was discharged in Pagume 1981 E.C. (September 1989 G.C.). He then joined EPRDF and worked in security at the transitional conference that established the new government .
Later assigned to Radio Ethiopia, he began his journalism career. Without ever producing a radio program, he was transferred to Ethiopian Television, starting as a reporter. Over 30 years, he has worked across the country, produced numerous reports on transportation problems, traffic accidents, forest and wildlife conservation, agricultural modernization, and many other topics .
He holds a diploma from the former Mass Media Training Institute and a degree in Journalism and Communication from Addis Ababa University, specializing in broadcasting, graduating with good grades. He has also taken short courses in Ethiopia and abroad .
“A Country Without Freedom”
Belay’s account, published under the headline “A Country Without Freedom,” offers a rare insider’s perspective on how Ethiopian media has been systematically captured by political power. From Meles Zenawi’s era through the present, the pattern remains consistent: journalists who tell uncomfortable truths pay a price; those who learn to anticipate official desires survive; and the public is denied the information it needs for genuine democratic participation .
The title encapsulates his verdict on Ethiopia’s political condition: a country without freedom, where even reporting the words of the most powerful can land a journalist on a blacklist, and where those who defend journalistic integrity are eventually pushed out .
Contemporary Relevance
Belay’s historical account resonates powerfully with Ethiopia’s current media landscape. As reported separately, the Ethiopian Media Authority revoked Addis Standard’s license on February 24, 2026, alleging “repeated violations of media ethics, national laws, and the country’s national interests” —the same vague charges that have been used for decades to silence independent voices .
International press freedom organizations have condemned Ethiopia’s escalating repression, with the Committee to Protect Journalists counting 12 journalists behind bars—among the worst in Africa. Ethiopia now ranks 145th out of 180 countries in the 2025 World Press Freedom Index, falling into the “very serious” category .
As Belay’s account makes clear, this is not a new development but the continuation of a long pattern. From Meles Zenawi through Abiy Ahmed, Ethiopian governments have treated media as an instrument of control rather than a public service. Journalists who refuse to comply face intimidation, blacklisting, and imprisonment. The public, deprived of independent information, cannot meaningfully participate in democratic life .
Conclusion: The Struggle Continues
Belay concludes his account by noting that despite 30 years in journalism, navigating countless ups and downs, he continues working. But his testimony stands as both a warning and a call: a warning about how thoroughly state media can be captured by power, and a call for the independent journalism Ethiopia desperately needs .
The stories he tells—of reporters threatened for simply reporting leaders’ words, of editors who defended truth at great personal risk, of officials who manipulated news to serve their interests—reveal a media system that has never been allowed to serve its proper function. Until that changes, Ethiopia will remain, in Belay’s words, “a country without freedom.”
Liberal Party in Turmoil: Angus Taylor Elected Opposition Leader as Susan Lee Announces Retirement from Politics
By Hayyuu Oromia
Feature News
In a stunning political realignment that has sent shockwaves through Australia’s political landscape, Angus Taylor has been elected as the new leader of the Liberal Party and Opposition, decisively defeating Susan Lee in a 34–17 vote of the Liberal Party room. The result, which hands Taylor a commanding 17-vote margin, marks the first time in the Liberal Party’s history that a woman leader has been ousted and effectively compelled to exit public life altogether.
Ms Lee, who made history as the first female leader of the federal Liberal Party, has announced she will tender her resignation to the Speaker and retire from Parliament entirely—bringing a definitive close to a political career that once held the promise of breaking the nation’s highest glass ceiling.
The Numbers That Shifted
According to sources within the party room who spoke to SBS News on condition of anonymity, Taylor secured 37 votes from the 51-member Liberal Party room—a commanding majority that reflected not merely his own support base but a significant cross-over of former Lee loyalists.
“Some of Susan’s own people crossed the floor in that room,” one senior Liberal source said. “That’s what made the margin so devastating. It wasn’t just that Angus won. It was that her own tent had holes she hadn’t seen coming.”
The 34–17 count among voting members represented not merely a defeat but a collapse. For a sitting leader—particularly one who had broken historical ground—to lose by such a margin signaled deep fractures that had been concealed beneath public displays of unity.
‘I Don’t Know What Comes Next’
Emerging from the party room, Ms Lee appeared composed but visibly somber as she addressed waiting journalists. Her statement was brief, personal, and delivered with the restraint of a politician accustomed to public composure—yet carrying undertones of finality.
“I will be tendering my resignation letter to the Speaker,” she said. “I don’t know what comes next. I intend to spend time with my family—to withdraw entirely from public life.”
There was no pledge to contest again. No hint of a return. No fight for redemption. In a matter of sentences, Australia’s most senior female Liberal parliamentarian signaled the quiet close of a chapter that many had hoped would span years.
Colleagues who spoke with her afterward described a woman at peace with her decision, if not the circumstances that precipitated it.
“She wasn’t angry,” one longtime ally said. “She was tired. There’s a difference between being defeated and being done. Susan was done.”
Taylor’s Challenge: Unity Without Concession
For Angus Taylor, the victory presents both opportunity and immediate pressure. Assuming the leadership of a divided party room requires more than numbers; it demands the ability to heal wounds he did not create but from which he has now benefited.
Taylor’s supporters characterize him as a seasoned economic manager with the gravitas to hold the government to account. His detractors—including some who voted for him—wonder whether the manner of his ascension will haunt his early tenure.
“He didn’t just win. He won because Susan’s people abandoned her,” a Liberal moderate said. “That creates expectations. It creates resentments. And it creates questions about what promises were made behind closed doors.”
Taylor himself has not commented on the internal dynamics of the vote, issuing a brief statement thanking his colleagues and paying tribute to Ms Lee’s “historic leadership and dedicated service to the party and the nation.”
The First Woman Curse?
Ms Lee’s departure renews uncomfortable questions within the Liberal Party about its relationship with women leaders—and the political price they appear to pay for occupying the role.
She is the third woman to lead the federal Liberal partyroom, following the tenures of Julie Bishop, who never led the party to an election and was deposed before contesting one, and Tony Abbott’s single term. But Lee’s case is distinct: she was elected leader, contested an election, and was removed before she could lead the party to a second.
“She did what she was asked to do,” a former staffer reflected. “She stabilised the party. She made them competitive again. And this is how it ends—not with a loss at the ballot box, but with her own colleagues deciding they’d seen enough.”
The contrast with Labor’s treatment of female leaders—Julia Gillard was removed by her party, but contested again and remained in Parliament—has not gone unnoticed. Lee’s immediate and total exit suggests a rupture beyond ordinary leadership defeat.
What Remains
Ms Lee’s departure leaves a vacuum not only in the Liberal Party’s leadership but in its parliamentary ranks. Her seat, considered reasonably safe, will trigger a closely watched by-election that will serve as an early referendum on the Taylor leadership and the government’s standing.
For the Liberal Party, the challenge is immediate: present a coherent alternative to a government seeking re-election, while managing the fallout of removing—and effectively retiring—a leader who broke barriers but could not hold her ground.
For Ms Lee, the future is deliberately undefined. “I don’t know what comes next,” she said. For a woman who spent decades knowing exactly what came next—policy briefings, media appearances, late sittings, electorate events—that uncertainty is itself a form of liberation.
Whether it is also a loss—for her party, for women in politics, for the institution of Parliament itself—will be debated long after she has cleared her office and returned to the private life she has briefly, poignantly claimed as her next act.
Ethiopia’s Strategic Crossroads: When Criticism Blurs the Line Between Government and Nation
By Maatii Sabaa
Feature News
In the high-stakes arena of the Horn of Africa, where geopolitics shifts like tectonic plates beneath ancient soils, a troubling pattern has emerged in Ethiopia’s opposition discourse—one that increasingly conflates personal grievances against a sitting prime minister with the nation’s enduring strategic interests.
Over the past several days, Jawar Mohammed, once a close ally of Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed and now one of his most prominent critics, has launched a series of attacks against Ethiopia’s posture toward the deepening crisis in neighboring Sudan. His criticism, while occasionally resting on isolated facts, appears to systematically strip those facts of their broader strategic context—reducing complex national security calculations to evidence of government incompetence or malice.
The distinction being lost, critics argue, is one upon which stable democracies are built: the difference between the party in power and the state itself.
Facts Without Context: The Strategic Vacuum
Some of the reports circulated by Mohammed and his associates may be factually accurate in their narrowest sense. Ethiopia has indeed sought to protect its strategic interests amid Sudan’s collapse. It has engaged with actors on the ground. It has not adopted the posture of a passive observer.
Yet to present these moves as evidence of strategic folly—without reference to the regional power competition, Ethiopia’s existential stake in Sudanese stability, or the active interventions of other external actors—is to substitute selective outrage for sober analysis.
“The tragedy unfolding in Sudan is indeed exacerbated by foreign intervention,” one regional analyst noted, speaking on condition of anonymity. “But Ethiopia is hardly unique in pursuing its interests. What’s unique is Ethiopia’s vulnerability.”
No country in the region, and perhaps few beyond it, stands to lose more from a permanently destabilized Sudan. Ethiopia shares a 744-kilometer border with its northern neighbor. It hosts hundreds of thousands of Sudanese refugees. Its access to critical trade routes, its management of transboundary water resources, and its exposure to cross-border armed group proliferation are all directly implicated in Sudan’s trajectory.
Egypt and other regional actors are not neutral mediators. They have been actively shaping the conflict’s trajectory to favor preferred belligerents. To suggest that Ethiopia should operate as though this were not the case—or that acknowledging these realities somehow constitutes aggression—reflects what one foreign policy specialist described as “an aversion to the very language of national security.”
The Luxury of Abstraction
Mohammed positions himself as a politician-activist, a hybrid role that in theory could bridge grassroots mobilization and high-level policy engagement. But his recent posture suggests discomfort with the hard currency of statecraft: strategic interest, national security, geopolitical positioning.
In the Horn of Africa—a region defined by proxy competition, transboundary militant threats, and zero-sum maneuvering among rival states—such discomfort is not a virtue. It is a liability.
“States do not have the luxury of moral abstraction when core national interests are at stake,” said a former Ethiopian diplomat who requested anonymity to speak candidly. “You can critique how a government pursues those interests. You can propose alternative strategies. But to pretend that Ethiopia should have no strategy at all—or to frame every strategic move as evidence of malign intent simply because it originates from this prime minister—is not analysis. It’s partisan grievance dressed in policy language.”
The pattern has raised concerns among observers who note that Mohammed, widely believed to harbor ambitions for higher office, appears to be adopting what one analyst termed a “scorched-earth posture” not merely toward the Abiy administration but toward the Ethiopian state itself.
Governments Change. Geography Doesn’t.
This conflation carries implications beyond the immediate policy debates.
Governments are transient. Parties rise and fall. But strategic geography is stubborn. Ethiopia’s long-term national interests—its access to the sea, the security of its borders, the stability of its neighborhood, the viability of its water security arrangements—will outlast any single administration.
A credible political alternative, analysts argue, must demonstrate the capacity to distinguish between the party temporarily in power and the permanent interests of the nation. It must show that it can inherit the state without seeking to dismantle it.
“Thus far, Jawar has shown a near-pathological inability to make that distinction,” said Meheret Ayenew, a political scientist at Addis Ababa University. “The criticism never stops at the government. It bleeds into delegitimization of the state’s very right to defend its interests. That’s not opposition. That’s something else entirely.”
The Accountability Question
To be clear: critique of government policy is not only legitimate but essential. Ethiopia’s approach to the Sudan crisis, like any foreign policy posture, warrants scrutiny. Questions about coordination, consistency, and effectiveness are fair game.
But critique demands an alternative framework. What, precisely, should Ethiopia be doing differently? Should it abandon its engagement in Sudan entirely? Should it defer to Cairo’s preferred outcomes? Should it pretend that its national security is not implicated in the fate of its neighbor?
These questions, conspicuously absent from Mohammed’s recent broadsides, are the ones that distinguish serious opposition from performance.
Beyond the Immediate
The tragedy in Sudan has already claimed thousands of lives and displaced millions. For Ethiopia, the stakes are not abstract. They involve real security threats, real economic costs, and real humanitarian obligations that will persist regardless of who sits in the prime minister’s office in Addis Ababa.
In such moments, the distinction between government and state matters. A political culture that cannot sustain that distinction is one that struggles to produce durable alternatives—only perpetual opposition.
Whether Mohammed and his allies can evolve beyond this posture remains to be seen. But the clock is ticking. The region does not pause for Ethiopia to resolve its internal political debates.
And strategic interests, neglected or denied, have a way of asserting themselves regardless.
The Gavel in Chains: Judges Detained Over Alleged OLA Links in East Hararge
Subtitle: Legal Authorities Arrested as Police Claim Orders “From Above,” Raising Alarms About Judicial Independence.
In a move that strikes at the heart of judicial independence, two judges in East Hararge have been arrested on accusations of having links to the Oromo Liberation Army (OLA). The arrests, carried out by the East Hararge Zonal Police, were justified with a chillingly simple explanation: “The higher body commanded us.”
The detained officials are:
- Judge Mahbuubee Jundaa, a judge serving in the Qarsaa District of East Hararge Zone. He was arrested on Saturday morning.
- Judge Abdallaa Mahammad, a judge at the East Hararge Zone High Court. He was also arrested on Saturday morning.
Both men are currently being held under the custody of the East Hararge Zonal Police Command. The sole public reason given for their detention is the allegation that they “have connections with the OLA.”
The police command’s stated justification—”The higher body commanded us”—raises immediate and profound concerns. It implies an extra-judicial directive, bypassing standard legal procedures and the principle of due process. This phrase suggests that the arrests were not necessarily based on independently investigated evidence presented to a prosecutorial body, but on orders from an unnamed superior authority.
Why This Matters:
- Assault on Judicial Independence: Judges are the cornerstone of the rule of law. Their arrest on seemingly political grounds, without transparent legal process, undermines the very notion of an impartial judiciary. It creates a climate of fear where legal decisions may be influenced by political considerations rather than evidence and law.
- The “Higher Body” Precedent: The invocation of an unnamed superior command sets a dangerous precedent. It effectively places certain individuals or institutions above the law, allowing for detentions without clear accountability or a defined chain of evidence.
- Erosion of Public Trust: When those sworn to uphold the law can be arbitrarily detained, public trust in the entire justice system erodes. Citizens may lose faith in the courts as fair arbiters, which is fundamental for social stability.
- Context of Broader Arrests: These arrests occur amidst a wider pattern of detentions of local and regional officials in Oromia under various allegations. This incident specifically targets the judiciary, marking a significant and alarming escalation.
The legal community, civil society, and all advocates for the rule of law must seek clarity. Who is the “higher body”? What specific, admissible evidence exists to warrant the arrest of these judges? They are entitled to due process, a transparent charge, and the right to a fair hearing—the very rights they were appointed to safeguard for others.
A nation cannot be governed by secret commands. The gavel must not be silenced by the chain.
#FreeTheJudges #EastHararge #JudicialIndependence #RuleOfLaw #Oromia #Ethiopia
The Dangerous Diversion: Arresting Local Leaders While Security Crumbles
Subtitle: In Ilu Abbaa Boor, a Crackdown on Prosperity Party Officials Coincides with a Deepening Security Crisis.
In a move that has sent shockwaves through the local political landscape, Obbo Rashidoo Baalchaa, the head of the Prosperity Party in Ilu Abbaa Boor Zone, along with numerous members of his executive committee, have been arrested on accusations of forming a “clandestine committee.”
This political crackdown unfolds against a backdrop of a severe and deteriorating security situation across the zone. Many districts (aanaas) are currently grappling with profound safety crises. Farmers are unable to tend to their fields, and even essential food crops left for harvest are reportedly being looted. The timing raises urgent questions: Why this focus now?
This pattern is not isolated to Ilu Abbaa Boor. In recent days, similar arrests of district and municipal administrators have been reported in several other zones. The stated justifications vary, with some vaguely linked to alleged associations with “Shane” (the OLA). This strategy of detaining mid-level officials appears to be a growing tactic.
However, this approach rings hollow against the national reality. While a full federal cabinet sits in the capital, and regional presidents operate with apparent normalcy, the relentless arrest of local administrators does not solve the core problem of instability. It often feels like a superficial fix—applying a small bandage to a gaping wound.
Furthermore, the narrative framing these detained individuals as “revolutionary sympathizers” lacks credibility. Many of those targeted are not ideological militants; they are often pragmatic local figures who have, at times, acted as crucial bridges to calm and negotiate with communities. Their removal may not weaken armed groups, but it almost certainly weakens the fragile lines of communication and local governance.
This creates a dangerous paradox: at the very moment when communities most need effective, trusted local leadership to navigate security threats, that leadership is being systematically removed from the equation. The result is not greater state control, but a deepening vacuum where fear and lawlessness thrive.
The people of Ilu Abbaa Boor and similar zones are left with a pressing plea: Do not distract us with political purges while our basic safety is stripped away. Address the root causes of the conflict. Reinforce, do not dismantle, the local structures that can build peace. The security of our homes and farms cannot be sacrificed on the altar of political maneuvering. The bandage is too small, and the wound is too deep.
The Goal is Deeper Than the Net: How a Kora Lammii—a community pitch Match Rekindles a Nation’s Soul
Subtitle: In Ambo Ejersa, the beautiful kora lammii—a community pitch Becomes a Classroom for Culture, Proving That Our Strongest Defence is Unity
The scene is familiar—a dusty pitch, the sharp cry of a whistle, the unified gasp of a crowd as a ball soars toward the goal. But in the Boji area of Ambo, the familiar scene is telling a profoundly unfamiliar, and more beautiful, story. Here, the Ambo Ejersa Community gathering has become something far greater than a community gathering. It has transformed into a living, breathing symposium on survival.
Kora Lammii of Buundhaa from Itaya, Ambo, Meti, Machi, Wadesse, and Shanen did not just come to compete. They came to convene. In a world where fragmentation is often the default, these generation chose convergence. They built a kora lammii—a community pitch—and upon it, they are rebuilding a community spirit. The real match is not just between teams; it is a collective struggle against the erosion of identity. The victory they seek is the preservation of their cultural soul: aadaa and safuu.
This is the quiet, revolutionary power of what is happening. In the breaks between matches, in the shade of Odaa tree, the kora lammii gathering organically spawns marii boonsaa—deep, communal dialogues. These are not academic lectures, but urgent, grassroots consultations. How do we practice respect (safuu) in a digital age? How do we wear our culture (aadaa) not as a costume for holidays, but as daily armour against assimilation? The gathering is the ignition; the conversation is the sustainable fire.
What these young people in Boji instinctively understand is a truth many societies grapple with: culture is not a museum artifact. It is a muscle. It atrophies without use. It strengthens under collective strain. By using the universal language of community gathering to strengthening the dispersed chapters of their community, they are creating a gymnasium for their Oromumma. They are exercising their shared identity, passing the weight of tradition from elder to youth, ensuring it does not grow weak.
The palpable joy reported by participants—“waan haalan nama gammachisuu dha” (it is something that brings deep joy)—is the most important metric here. This joy is not merely the thrill of sport. It is the profound relief and empowerment that comes from reconnection. It is the joy of speaking your mother tongue freely in a crowd that understands its nuance. It is the joy of seeing your values reflected in the conduct of your peers—in a fair tackle on the field, in the respectful deference to an elder off it.
In an era where globalized culture often flattens uniqueness, the Ambo Ejersa Buundhaa gathering is an act of gentle defiance. It declares that the future need not be a departure from the past, but a continuation of it, adapted on our own terms. These players are not running away from their heritage to chase modernity; they are sprinting toward a future where their heritage is the foundation of their strength.
The commentary from the sidelines, therefore, should be one of keen observation and high praise. This is grassroots cultural innovation at its finest. The kora lammii gathering is proof that the most effective guardians of a people’s spirit are not always politicians or institutions, but can be its youth, a ball, and a collective will to remember. They have remembered that the most crucial goal to defend is the one protecting their very essence. And in that defense, they are finding not just victory, but a deep and abiding joy.
More Than a Gathering: Lammii gathering of Buundhaa in Boji Becomes a Hub for Oromo Cultural Revival
Subtitle: Lammii gathering of Buundhaa from Across the Region Unite on the Pitch, Spark Community Dialogue on Aadaa and Safuu
BOJI, OROMIA — The sound of cheering fans and bouncing footballs has become a powerful call to unity in the rural landscape of Boji. Here, at the Ambo Ejersa gathering, a simple cultural gathering event has blossomed into a profound social gathering, uniting Oromo generations from various parts of the country and reigniting vital conversations about cultural heritage and values.
The generation gathering has successfully drawn teams that map the Oromo heartland: local generation from Boji are competing alongside their brothers from Itaya, Ambo, Meexxii, Maatii, Wadesse, and Shanan. This convergence on the lammii pitch represents a significant grassroots effort to strengthen communal bonds that stretch across the region.
“This is truly something that brings joy,” remarked an elderly spectator, Bulo Tadese, his eyes following the energetic play. “In these times, seeing our sons from different corners come together in peace and healthy competition… it warms the heart. Waan haalan nama gammachisudha (It is profoundly joyous).”
Yet, the true significance of the event extends far beyond the final score. In the shade of trees and under makeshift tents, the community surrounding the gathering is engaging in a parallel, equally important contest: a collective effort to reclaim and revive core Oromo principles.
During breaks and after matches, elders, players, and spectators are gathering for marii boonsaa—meaningful, extended community dialogues. The central focus is the urgent discussion of aadaa (culture/tradition) and safuu (a deep-seated moral and ethical code governing respect and social harmony).
“This lammii gathering of Buundhaa was the spark, but the conversation is the real fire,” said organizer Dhaqaba Gammada. “We play the meeting to bring the generation of Buundhaa together, but we use this gathering to ask important questions: How do we preserve our identity? How do we practice safuu in our daily lives? The energy here shows our people are hungry for this discussion.”
The spontaneous emergence of these dialogues points to a deep-seated community desire to navigate modernity while firmly rooting the younger generation in their cultural foundation. Elders see it as a chance to impart wisdom, while youth see it as a space to understand their heritage in a contemporary context.
The Ambo Ejersa lammii gathering of Buundhaa stands as a powerful example of how lammii gathering can serve as a catalyst for social cohesion and cultural preservation. It demonstrates that the goal is not only to win games but to strengthen the very fabric of the community, ensuring that the values of aadaa and safuu are passed on, debated, and lived.
As the lammii gathering of Buundhaa continues, the message is clear: the most important victory is happening off the field, in the hearts and minds of a people rediscovering the strength of their shared identity.
Pioneering Agronomist Dr. Paulos Dubale (1944-2026): A Legacy of Science and Service Against the Odds
Addis Ababa, Ethiopia – The life of Dr. Paulos Dubale, a groundbreaking Ethiopian agronomist and soil scientist, stands as a powerful testament to a relentless pursuit of knowledge and an unwavering dedication to national development, often achieved in the face of severe institutional and financial constraints.
Born in June 1936 E.C. in Kendo Wolayta, Dr. Paulos’s journey began humbly in local schools before he pursued agriculture at the then-Alemaya College of Agriculture. His talent was quickly recognized; excelling as both a student and a singer, he was appointed as a “Student Singer” to a national development campaign, which led to his first research posting at the Jimma Agricultural Research Station in 1968 E.C.
His career would become synonymous with coffee research, a cornerstone of Ethiopia’s economy. Recognizing a critical shortage of specialists, the research institute sponsored him for a Master’s degree at the University of Hawaii, USA, which he earned in Horticulture with a focus on coffee. Despite his professors’ strong recommendations to pursue a doctorate immediately, a lack of replacement staff at home forced his premature return to Ethiopia—a recurring theme of institutional limitations that would challenge his progress for years.
A Champion of Collaboration Against Scarcity
Back at the Jimma research center, Dr. Paulos rose to lead the coffee research team and later coordinated the entire national coffee research program. His role expanded dramatically as he was tasked with simultaneously managing the nascent Soil and Water Research directorate. Archival documents reveal a continuous, frustrating struggle: numerous invitations for doctoral fellowships in Italy, the Netherlands, and the UK were declined by the institute due to a crippling “lack of qualified manpower” to fill his role.
His perseverance finally paid off in 1982 E.C. when, with World Bank funding, he secured a “Split PhD” program at Wye College in the UK. This allowed him to conduct research in Ethiopia while completing his degree, which he earned in 1986 E.C. He returned immediately to Ethiopia and was appointed Director of the newly formed National Soil and Water Research Directorate.
A Life of Multifaceted Service and Modest Reward
Dr. Paulos’s leadership extended beyond the lab. He taught at Alemaya University, served on the board of the Metehara Sugar Factory, and was an active member of the Ethiopian Society of Soil Science. His scientific contributions were prolific, authoring or co-authoring over 60 publications, including progress reports, technical papers, journal articles, and handbooks.
Despite his monumental contributions, his personal compensation starkly highlighted the sacrifices made by a generation of scientists. Records show that upon his retirement, his monthly salary was just 3,335 Ethiopian Birr, with a responsibility allowance of 450 Birr. His pension was calculated at 1,576.78 Birr per month.
His career was also marked by extensive international travel for training and conferences, taking him to the USA, UK, Brazil, Ghana, Tanzania, India, Uganda, Sri Lanka, and Kenya, where he represented Ethiopia’s scientific community.
Forced to retire in 1991 E.C. upon reaching the mandatory age, his expertise was deemed so indispensable that his tenure was extended twice, allowing him to continue coordinating vital research projects for an additional six years before his final retirement in 1997 E.C.
Dr. Paulos Dubale’s story is not merely one of personal achievement but a narrative of intellectual resilience. It illustrates the profound impact one dedicated scientist can have—nurturing a key economic sector, mentoring future generations, and building institutional capacity—even when operating within a system strained by scarcity. His legacy endures in Ethiopia’s agricultural research foundations and serves as a powerful inspiration for the nation’s scientific community.
Challenges to PM Abiy Ahmed: Gedu’s Rebuttal on Tigray War
Senior Official Rebuts PM Abiy’s Claims, Alleges Cover-Up in Eritrean Role During Tigray War
[February 4, 2026] – In a scathing and meticulously detailed open letter to Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed, Gedu Andargachew, a former high-ranking official, has issued a sharp rebuttal to the Prime Minister’s recent parliamentary statements, directly challenging the official narrative of Eritrea’s role in the Tigray war and accusing the administration of evading moral responsibility for the conflict’s atrocities.
The letter, dated January 27, 2015, Ethiopian Calendar, was prompted by the Prime Minister’s mention of Gedu by name during a parliamentary address concerning tensions with Eritrea on January 26, 2015, Ethiopian Calendar. Gedu states that this reference compelled him to “place the matter on the public record, without addition or subtraction,” offering a starkly different account of key wartime events.
Disputing the Official Eritrea Narrative
Gedu’s core contention challenges the timeline presented by the government. He asserts that Eritrean forces fought alongside the Ethiopian National Defense Force (ENDF) from the war’s outset until the Pretoria Agreement was finalized, contradicting the official line that their involvement was brief or contested.
He provides specific military details to support his claim, recalling a moment in the winter of 2013 E.C. (2020/2021 Gregorian) when Tigrayan forces advanced into the Amhara region. “We remember that the Eritrean army came as far as the Debretabor area and fought,” he writes. He further alleges that the ENDF and the Eritrean military conducted joint operations “in a manner resembling a single national army” until the peace deal was made public.
Alleging a Deliberate Cover-Up and Shift of Blame
The letter accuses PM Abiy of a pattern of deflecting responsibility for the war’s devastating human cost. Gedu expresses disappointment that instead of seeking forgiveness from the peoples of Tigray and Ethiopia, the Prime Minister chose to “simply provide explanations” and “try to find another party to blame.”
He argues this approach is not only a moral failure but also dangerous, stating it prevents the necessary lessons from being learned and “makes the recurrence of similar disasters possible.” Gedu directly links a range of national crises—the wars in Tigray and Oromia, alleged atrocities in Amhara, and conflicts in Benishangul-Gumuz—to what he calls the leadership’s “deficiency” and a flawed mindset that “cannot stay in power without conflict and war.”
Denying a Secret Mission to Eritrea
Gedu forcefully denies the Prime Minister’s insinuation that he was sent to Eritrea as a special envoy concerning the Tigray war. He clarifies he was removed from his post as Foreign Minister the day after the conflict began and states, “There has never been a suspicion that this issue was entrusted to me.”
He confirms a single trip to Asmara in early 2013 E.C. but describes a mission with entirely different objectives: to convey gratitude for Eritrea’s joint military cooperation, deliver a victory message regarding coordinated operations, and discuss mutual caution over mounting international “naming and shaming campaigns” related to human rights abuses.
Critically, Gedu claims that when he raised the international community’s demand for Eritrean troop withdrawal, PM Abiy explicitly instructed him not to request that Eritrea pull its forces out. “You warned me, ‘Do not at all ask them to withdraw your army,'” Gedu writes.
Revealing Contemptuous Remarks Toward Tigrayans
In the letter’s most explosive personal allegation, Gedu recounts a private meeting where he advised caution and the rapid establishment of civilian administration in Tigray to prevent future grievances. He claims PM Abiy dismissed these concerns with contemptuous rhetoric.
Gedu quotes the Prime Minister as allegedly stating: “Tigrayans will not rebel from now on; don’t think they can get up and fight seriously… we have crushed them so they cannot rise. Many people tell me ‘the people of Tigray, the people of Tigray’; how are the people of Tigray better than anyone? We have crushed them so they cannot rise. We will hit them even more; because the escape route is difficult, from now on the Tigray we know will not return.”
A Call for Accountability
The letter concludes not with personal grievances, but with a broader indictment of the administration’s governance. Gedu presents his detailed refutation as a necessary corrective to the historical record and an implicit call for a truthful accounting of the war’s origins, conduct, and consequences—an accounting he suggests is being actively avoided by the highest levels of government.
The Prime Minister’s office has not yet issued a public response to the allegations contained in the letter.
For more detail see the official Amharic letter of Gedu Andargachew
Oromedia 