Please Watch the Video Clip (81 sec) That Prompted this Editorial Before Proceeding. Thank You.
The Tragic Death of a Young Artist
The tragic death of young Oromo artist Qanani Adunya should have been a moment of collective mourning—a time for Ethiopia to grieve the loss of a bright, talented soul taken too soon. Instead, it became yet another ugly exposure of interethnic bigotry, where even the dignity of death was subjected to supremacist scrutiny.
Qanani was buried at Holy Trinity Cathedral, a historically significant church in Finfinnee (aka Addis Ababa), traditionally associated with emperors and royal family members, Orthodox Church clergies, dignitaries, and national heroes, according to the imperial era protocol. Nowadays, this should have been a non-issue.
Why should the burial of a beloved young artist matter beyond the grief of those who loved her?
Yet, for some, it was an affront—an intolerable violation of an unwritten code that dictates who is deemed worthy of certain burial spaces.
For these individuals—steeped in an Amhara nationalist mindset that refuses to accept Oromos as equals—the burial of an Oromo at Trinity Cathedral was not just an inconvenience. It was an existential challenge to their illusion of supremacy. Their outcry was not about religious sanctity or burial traditions; it was about power, exclusion, and a refusal to acknowledge the shifting realities of Ethiopia’s sociopolitical landscape.
Selective Grievance and Settler-Colonial Entitlement
The sheer hypocrisy of those expressing outrage over Qanani’s burial is staggering. This is an Oromo land—Oromo land, or Oromia. Yet, it is the descendants of settlers who presume to dictate where an Oromo dignitary should be laid to rest.
This is a perverse inversion of history.
Oromos, the native inhabitants, are now being policed on where they can be buried by people whose presence in these lands was established through conquest and forced assimilation.
Let’s call this what it is: settler-colonial entitlement masquerading as religious grievance.
It is not the burial that disturbs them—it is the growing visibility of Oromo identity in spaces they once controlled. It is the realization that Ethiopia’s power structures are no longer exclusive domains of a single ethnic group. It is the bitter taste of lost dominance, disguised as outrage over a tombstone.
Unlearning Supremacy: A Missed Opportunity
This was a moment for Amhara elites to demonstrate that they had evolved beyond the exclusionary nationalism of their forebears. They could have shown that Ethiopia is a multinational federation, imperfect as that may be, where all its people, regardless of ethnicity, deserve equal recognition in life and in death. Instead, some doubled down on hate, reinforcing their image as the last bastions of an obsolete ideology.
Their fixation on burial sites is a metaphor for their greater failure—they are still trying to police Oromo existence, to decide where and how Oromos are recognized. They have not yet come to terms with the fact that Oromos are not asking for permission to exist in Ethiopia; they are asserting their rightful place as equal partners.
Their indignation is not just irrational—it is fundamentally dehumanizing. To care more about who is buried where than about the loss of a young human life reveals a level of moral bankruptcy that should disgust anyone with a shred of decency.
Beyond Petty Bigotry: A Call to Recognition and Respect
This is not about a church. It is not about burial protocol. It is about the broader refusal of certain Ethiopian elites to accept Oromos as equals—not just in their own land, but anywhere in Ethiopia. If you cannot stomach the burial of an Oromo at Trinity Cathedral, then you have already failed to understand what equality means.
Ethiopia will never be a just, peaceful, or truly multinational federation (if it so chooses) until all its people—especially its historically oppressed populations—are recognized without conditions. This means:
- Oromos do not need permission to exist, be buried, or be celebrated anywhere in Ethiopia.
- Ethiopia is not a single-ethnic empire where the descendants of past rulers decide the worth of others.
- The very idea that certain spaces should be exclusive to one group or religion is a relic of a dying supremacist mindset.
The lesson for diehard supremacists is simple: Ethiopia is changing. You can either evolve with it or be left behind, bitter and irrelevant.
For those still clinging to outdated visions of Amhara domination, let this be a final wake-up call: Oromos are not visitors in Ethiopia. They are its beating heart in their own country called Oromia. If that truth makes you uncomfortable, the problem is not Oromos—it is your own failure to accept reality.
Qanani Adunya’s death was a tragedy. But perhaps, in the way she was mourned—and in the grotesque reactions of supremacists—she also exposed a nation still struggling to unlearn the worst parts of its past.
Her resting place is secure. The real question is whether Ethiopia can finally lay to rest its supremacist ghosts.
