Essay
“Eessa jirtu?” – Why does it matter today? – A Theological Reflection

“Jirtu?” – Do you exist?
“Eessa jirtu?” – Where do you exist?
Those questions continue to baffle me. The great Hachalu Hundessa popularized it. He asked his fellow Oromos, “Jirtu? Eessa Jirtu?” (Are you alive? If so, where are you?) His question took many to streets to protest against injustice. Even though this memorable maxim is attributed to the one and only Hachalu Hundessa, I believe the history of “Jirtu?” can be traced to a much earlier time.
The Origin of “Jirtu?”
The origin of this maxim goes back to the ancient times. It’s written in the first chapters of the Bible where God asked Adam, “Where are you?” (Gen 3:9). The Afaan Oromoo version says, “Waaqayyo gooftaan garuu namicha waamee, ‘Eessa jirta?’ jedhe”. The question is similar to what Hachalu Hundesa asked the crowd at famous Millennium Hall performance in 2017. “Ijoolle Oromoo jirtu?… Eessa jirtu?” (“Children of Oromoo, where are you?”)
The story of Gen 3:9 is well known. God created Adam and Eve and instructed them what to do and what not to. Adam and Eve rebelled on God and disobeyed Him. It’s after this that God began the searching of His creatures that were made in His image. He asked, “Eessa jirta?” God’s question for Adam was to come out of the place he was hiding. Adam responded to the call.
Perhaps readers might ask why I brought this story here and what does it have to do with that of Hachlau’s maxim, “jirtu?”. I believe, Hachalu’s maxim can be seen as extension of God’s call to humanity, “Eessa Jirta?”. God called Adam because Adam was seeking his own covering to help him hid from God, and God wanted to bring Adam to light. God’s goal was to bring Adam to light and life. Hachalu asked the Oromos, “Eessa jirtu?” because Hachalu wanted to bring the light of freedom to the Oromo people, and the wider Horn. The goal of Hachalu’s, “Eessa jirtu?” to the Oromos calling each sub clan by name was to bring the ‘hiding’ youth from the darkness to light. Here the question comes, were the youth hiding in the dark that they needed the call by people like Hachalu to move them to light? I argue, yes, our youth were hiding in the dark. Allow me to explain what I meant.
Where were the youth?
It wouldn’t be a hasty generalization to state that for many reasons most Oromo youths ended up in prison, migration or OPDO for most of the history of Ethiopia. Many were heard saying Afaan Oromo used to be the language of prisons. Almost all of those who end up in prison were charged with the pretext of being a member of the Oromo Liberation Front/Army. Those who wouldn’t risk of being detained usually migrate to other countries. That’s why Oromos outnumber any other nations with migration through Djibouti to Saud Arabia where many of them end up in Saudi prisons if they really make it passing through the Yemen war.
Others who couldn’t risk both the prison and migration end up joining the Oromo People’s Democratic Organization (OPDO). OPDO was the only viable choice for ‘moderate’ Oromo youths. They were labeled ‘moderate’ but they were just ordinary Oromos who couldn’t risk many of the problems their fellow Oromos face. Being an ordinary Oromo was not just allowed in Ethiopia; hence, they had to cover it with some imperial politics. However, OPDO became a tool to eat the Oromos alive. It became an assassin of Oromos themselves.
It didn’t seem but all the three alternatives were nothing but darkness – Prison, Migration or OPDO. We lost many to prison, migration or OPDO. Oromos were under the dark chambers of Maekelawi, the country’s notorious prison or they were lost in the wilderness of gulf of Eden or they were just slaves to whoever was in Arat Kilo palace, as were the OPDO members. Of all the three, the last one seemed the darkest of all. However, it was also the only choice many could hope for a better Oromia.
Both Hachalu’s maxim and the wider Oromo Protest of 2014-2018 should be seen through this historical context. Oromo youths were ‘hiding’ in prison, migration or in OPDO when their identity was being oppressed and their land was being stolen. They needed to come out to light. Hachalu’s “Eessa jirtu?” call was for our youth to come out and face the oppressor at the expense of their lives. Hachalu used music to move the mass from schools, universities and government offices to streets. Many protested for freedom. Many gave up their life for the freedom of their nation. “Eessa jirtu?” was behind all this.
Much like God’s call to Adam, Hachalu summoned his people. And like Adam, many responded with “Yes!”. However, just like Adam faced the consequence of his action, many Oromo youths also faced the consequence of their action. We lost more than 5000 youths. However, much like Adam who wasn’t left without hope, our people were not without hope. The death of many brought light to our people, at least for a time being.
“Eessa Jirtu?” In the Present Tense
As of writing this, Hachalu’s question reverberates in my mind, “Eessa jirtu?” Where are we? Where are our youth? What are the present darkness where our people are covering themselves with? Are there any changes from the past?
Many people have their share of ideas on these questions. I have traveled many places across Oromia in the past four years and have tried to look if there are changes and if there is any reason to believe that our youths are in darkness. In my opinion the darkness that I see now can be categorized into four: Prison, Jungle, Migration, and OPP. There isn’t much difference from 2018 when Hachalu asked the question. The only difference is the addition of ‘Jungle’. Before 2018, there weren’t really many activities in the jungle especially after OLF/A was expelled from the country and many who preferred to undergo an armed struggle would leave the country and join OLA in Kenya or Eritrea. However, those who would take this option were very few and many were thrown to jail even before they decided to join OLA. Now, however, things are different. There are many youths in the jungles of Oromia than ever in Oromo history.
In the meantime, the prisons are once again filled by Oromo youths who are detained without court orders with the pretext of being a member of OLA or having links with OLA. Many of Oromo politicians are behind bars as of writing. Oromia has become hellish for Oromo youths than it was in 2018.
And yes, migration is still a big problem in addition. Many Oromo youths are fleeing to Saudi through Yemen due to the ever increasing inflation and joblessness in the country. Many also left the country in fear for their lives because of the political turmoil in Oromia.
Meanwhile, those who couldn’t risk all this choose to work with the ruling Prosperity Party and its Oromia chapter, OPP. Here it’s important to note that the difference between OPP and OPDO is that OPP has a great advantage to convince the Oromo youth to join them through their “the Prime Minister is Oromo” argument. Hence, Arat Kilo now belonged to the Oromos so that many would join and support OPP. However, many didn’t buy this argument because the damages that are being done to the Oromo youths by OPP officials on daily bases cannot be justified and forgotten. Nevertheless, this wouldn’t hold many from showing support to the prime minister mostly for fear of their lives or for some personal gains. The alternatives for most Oromo youths have been to join the army in the jungle or join OPP and those who didn’t choose either of them will either flee for their lives or end up in prison.
In light of all this, any ordinary person can notice that Oromia’s jungles shout louder than Arat Kilo palace. Oromia’s prisons cry more than ever. The darkness has gone to another level. Innocent civilians are paying the price of our darkness on daily basis. People are dying everywhere in Oromia. It isn’t just heartbreaking. It’s darkness. Like Adam, we are lost in darkness.
Perhaps it is during at such time Hachalu’s call “Eessa jirtu?” makes more sense. Perhaps we are at a historical time where we need to ask this question one more time and come up with a very strong honest and convincing answer. Where are we? Where is the Oromo struggle going? After all these years, why are we still in darkness?
Had Hachalu been alive, he would ask us “Eessa jirtu?” Where are the Oromo youths who brought the light in 2018? Why did silence surfaced when Amanuel Wondimu, 17, was executed in Public Square at Dembi Dollo square on May 2021? Where were our youth when Abdi, young handsome boy was executed in broad day light in October 2020 at Bale only because he was holding a banner that says “Free Oromo politicians”? Why are we silent when our friends departed us to join the army in the jungle? What were our response when the Prime Minister instead of inviting our youths into discussion but waged war on our people? Where are we when Oromia is being turned into hell? Are the members of our Caffee enjoying the theatre unfolding in Oromia by day? Where are the re-reformers in OPP?
My fellow Oromos, let’s admit it, we are in darkness. With bold remark, here I put it: both the jungle and Arat Kilo are the climax of our darkness. In my humble opinion, if there is hope for Oromia, it will not come from either of the places. Oromia’s hope exists in the wide table where those in prison, those in the jungle and those in Arat kilo could take part for discussion and dialogue. May universities cry out, schools shout aloud, Churches, Mosques and Galmaa’s turn into protest places until all parties sit down for talk to bring down the darkness! Until jungles and thrones meet at coffee table, may we not stop nagging! May we not stop protesting!
Perhaps Hachalu knew the darkness could go worse instead of resolving. Could that be the reason why he named the title of his second album which was released posthumous, “Eessa jirta?” much like the question God posed to Adam?
Any response to Hachalu’s question comes with a cost but bears much fruit, just like Adam’s confession brought a light that redeemed mankind.
Eessa jirtu?
About the author
Naol Befkadu Kebede
Physician, theologian and public theologian from Ethiopia. He writes on faith and public life in the Horn of Africa, with particular attention to medicine, church and society.