Examining the Marginalization of the Oromo Subgroups of Southern Oromia, Ethiopia, and Northern Kenya

Introduction

The Oromo people are the largest nation in the Horn of Africa and, in recent decades, have been the subject of extensive scholarly inquiry, particularly regarding their historical origins, socio-political structures, and incorporation into the Ethiopian colonial empire state (Jalata 2005; Legesse 1973). Existing studies predominantly focus on the main Oromo branches and pay less attention to the Oromo subgroups on the southern border of Oromia and northern Kenya, even though they have been the guardians of the Oromo democratic tradition (Hassen 1990; Bassi 2005). So, there is a significant gap in research concerning these subgroups, such as the Borana, Gabra, Guji, Sakuye, Orma, Wardei, and Waata in southern Ethiopia and northern Kenya (Schlee 1989; Baxter 1965). This oversight is striking given that these communities share historical, cultural, and linguistic ties with the main Oromo branches, such as Arsi, Tulama, Walo, Macha, and others; of course, they experienced divergent colonial trajectories: Abyssinian (Ethiopian) colonialism in the larger Oromo communities and the southern Oromo and British colonialism in the northern Kenya (Jalata 2005). We have taken the initiative of writing this paper to broaden and deepen the frontiers of Oromo studies.

All Oromo subgroups, regardless of current “national” borders, are unified by core cultural, linguistic, historical, and political factors. They speak Afaan Oromoo (the Oromo language) in various dialects; they have practiced the Gadaa system of age-grades and Gadaa-grades of socio-political organization and the related indigenous Oromo religion, Waaqeffannaa; and they trace their origins to a common Oromo ancestry (often mythologized through the Borana–Barentu dichotomy). These shared attributes foster a strong collective Oromo national identity across regions. At the same time, the disparate colonial and state contexts have led to distinct developments among the southern Ethiopian Oromo versus the northern Kenyan Oromo communities. This paper seeks to address the research gap by providing a comparative examination of the Oromo in southern Oromia and northern Kenya, highlighting their pre-colonial social organizations, colonial encounters, and contemporary status.

The aims of the study are threefold. First, the paper identifies and explains the indigenous socio-cultural institutions of these subgroups (notably the Gadaa system and other indigenous practices) and how these institutions underpinned Oromo society before colonization. Second, it examines their encounters with colonizing forces, specifically the Abyssinian conquest of the late 19th century in southern Oromia and British colonial administration in northern Kenya and analyzes how these different colonial experiences impacted their livelihoods, political sovereignty, and inter-community relations. Third, it analyzes their contemporary circumstances, including their socio-political status within the Ethiopian Empire and the Kenyan state, ongoing challenges such as marginalization and resource-based conflicts, and the strategies of cultural resilience they employ. By focusing on often-neglected groups such as the Borana, Guji, and Gabra in Ethiopia, as well as the Borana, Gabra, Sakuye, Orma, Wardei, and Waata in Kenya, this study underscores the importance of a comparative approach in Oromo scholarship. Such an approach not only enriches our understanding of Oromo collective national identity and adaptation across different contexts but also challenges the historical marginalization of specific Oromo communities in academic political narratives.

Methodological and Theoretical Frameworks

The analysis uses political, economic, and comparative-historical approaches, drawing on ethnographic studies, historical accounts, and oral histories to construct a broad overview of the communities in question. The research heavily relies on secondary sources, such as academic works, government reports, traveler accounts, and digital archives, to examine both the commonalities and unique experiences of Oromo subgroups across the Ethiopia–Kenya border. The analysis specifically addresses multi-sited and comparative issues and juxtaposes the socio-historical experiences of Oromo groups in two “national” contexts to illuminate shared patterns and divergent outcomes. It is informed by theoretical perspectives on colonialism, imperialism, and indigenous resistance.

Previous studies have conceptualized the incorporation of Oromia into Ethiopia as a form of settler colonialism, wherein the Abyssinian state violently subjugated Oromo territories and destroyed or subordinated Oromo institutions to imperial rule (Holcomb and Ibssa 1990; Jalata 1993; 2005). This framework helps explain the structural marginalization of Oromo subgroups within the Ethiopian colonial state. Additionally, the study also uses neo-colonial and ethnonational domination theories by examining how colonial legacies (both Ethiopian and British) continue to shape power relations and identity politics for the Oromo in the Ethiopian Empire and Kenya. Specifically, the piece uses critical scholarship that challenges knowledge for domination and exploitation by legitimizing colonizing structures and social hierarchies, thereby deleting or suppressing indigenous knowledge and knowledge for emancipation or liberation.

The Oromo of Southern Oromia: Borana, Guji, and Gabra^[1]

The Borana, Guji, and Gabra^[2] Oromo, as integral subgroups of the broader Oromo national community, predominantly reside in the semi-arid and arid landscapes of southern Oromia (Ethiopia), where their indigenous livelihoods have been rooted in pastoralism for the Borana and Gabra, and agro-pastoralism for the Guji, reflecting a symbiotic relationship with their environment shaped by centuries of ecological adaptation. The Borana and Gabra have maintained predominantly pastoralist livelihoods, strategically navigating the arid and semi-arid landscapes through sophisticated herd management and seasonal mobility patterns (Bassi 2005; Oba, 2001). In contrast, the Guji Oromo have developed an agropastoral system that combines livestock rearing with crop cultivation in more temperate highland areas (Megerssa 1993).

These communities are further united by their shared history of the Gadaa system, a social and political structure that has formed the basic framework of government in Oromo society for many centuries and is still practiced in a limited way today. The Gadaa still connects all the communities in the region through its system of cyclic democratic leadership. According to Asmarom Legesse (2000, 93), the Oromo Gadaa system exemplifies a successful African democratic institution. Even though it was practiced in these Oromo communities, it lost its sovereignty and was systematically marginalized and subordinated to the Ethiopian colonial institutions since the late 19th century. Menelik’s southern expansion was driven by imperial consolidation and the systematic extraction of resources, including land, tribute, labor, cattle, ivory, and other commodities from conquered territories. The incorporation of southern regions into the imperial state subjected local populations to new systems of surplus extraction and tribute obligations (Marcus 1994). Revenues and resources obtained from these newly conquered territories contributed to Menelik’s state-building project, including the acquisition of modern firearms from European powers (Marcus 1994).

The rinderpest epizootic of the late nineteenth century devastated cattle populations across Ethiopia, producing widespread famine and social disruption (Pankhurst 1966; Marcus 1994). In this context of ecological and economic crisis, Menelik’s large, mobilized army during the Adwa campaign faced significant provisioning challenges and relied heavily on foraging as supplies became strained (Marcus 1994). The population in the highlands also lost much livestock, particularly oxen, needed for plowing. By raiding the lowland pastoralists, he saved the highland population from famine while enabling the extraction of tribute and expansion of his empire. According to Bahru Zewde (1978, 55–57), the surplus livestock was sent to Menelik, who then divided it among his makanint (nobility). Meanwhile, ‘refugees’ from the famine-ravaged regions, such as Begemdir and Tigray, swelled the ranks of the conquering army (Zewde 1978). Raids on the lowland pastoralists on the empire’s periphery also helped establish an Ethiopian presence in the south, which Menelik would later claim as part of his expanded empire. This process of colonization, as documented by Mohammed Hassen (1994), involved the widespread dispossession of Oromo lands and resources. Asafa Jalata (2010) elaborates on how such policies entrenched the economic and political marginalization of the Oromo, subordinating them within an Amhara-dominated imperial framework.

The Abyssinian administration has employed a “divide and rule” strategy, intensifying competition over scarce resources like grazing land and water, which are vital for pastoralist survival, a tactic that disrupted the communal resource-sharing norms traditionally upheld by the Gadaa system, as Marco Bassi (2010) illustrates in his analysis of Borana customary governance. This competition, on the one hand, challenged Borana’s sustainable rangeland regeneration (networking and labor exchange) and led to environmental degradation, and on the other hand, it increased their vulnerability (Oba 2008). The subsequent intergroup conflicts among the Borana, Guji, and Gabra, as Gunther Schlee (1998) observes, transformed cooperative relations into enmity, with resource disputes becoming a catalyst for enduring tensions in the region.

Moreover, the imperial regime imposed a colonial system, dismantling Oromo self-governance and appropriating local resources for the colonial state and the nafxanyas (gun-carrying settlers). Indigenous institutions were replaced or subordinated to exploitative arrangements. For example, the nafxanya–gabbar system was instituted in the newly conquered south: armed northern settlers (nafxanyas) were granted land and authority over Oromo communities, who became gabbars (tribute-paying subjects) obligated to provide livestock, grain, and labor to these settlers. This system enabled the settlers to extract resources directly from Oromo pastoralists while excluding them from power, effectively relegating the Borana, Guji, and Gabra to a serf-like status within the empire (Ta’a 2006, 85). The cultural cost of the conquest was immense. Gemetchu Megerssa (1993) describes how incorporation into Ethiopia disrupted the spiritual and cosmological foundations of Oromummaa (Oromo national history, culture, and identity), as manifested in the Waaqeffannaa (Oromo monotheistic faith).

Despite the pressures of colonization, Oromo institutions like Gadaa did not disappear overnight; as Legesse (1973) notes, the Gadaa institution even provided a framework for social organization and resistance under occupation. However, under colonial rule, the functioning of Gadaa was fundamentally altered. Before colonization, Gadaa governed all aspects of Oromo life; under Abyssinian rule, its public functions were curtailed or co-opted. Oromo leaders were often reduced to the status of local intermediaries (balabat) under imperial governors, and Gadaa assemblies could no longer operate freely. In many regions, the Oromo were forbidden from practicing in key Gadaa rituals and were forced to submit to the authority of imperial appointees, leading to the decline or clandestine continuation of Gadaa in those areas. Only in more remote locales, such as among the Borana, who benefited from geographical inaccessibility, did the Gadaa system survive relatively intact in open practice (Hassen 1994, 75–77). The enduring legacy of these historical injustices is evident today in persistent resource-based conflicts, structural exclusion, and socio-economic vulnerabilities within the modern Ethiopian state, particularly under Ethiopia’s post-1991 language-based federalism framework, which, in practice, has offered only nominal autonomy to Oromia without fully addressing pastoralists’ needs. We now briefly introduce each subgroup to elaborate on their specific historical experiences and status.

The Borana

The Borana Oromo, a significant subgroup within the broader Oromo national community, is recognized as one of Ethiopia’s three most prominent pastoralist groups, distinguished by their population size and the expansive territory they inhabit in southern Oromia (Ethiopia) and northern Kenya. Oromo oral traditions trace their origins to two ancestral figures, Borana and Barentu, with Borana being the elder (hangafa Oromo) and Barentu the younger (quxxisuu). This narrative, despite some contestation, underpins the historical identity of the Oromo.^[3] There are also many Borana subgroups all over Oromia.^[4] The Borana primarily reside in the Borana Zone (Dirre) and East Borana Zone (Liban) within the Oromia Regional State, as well as across the border in northern Kenya, occupying the Borana Plateau, which spans approximately 95,000 km², according to Coppock (1994). Borana society is divided into two moieties, known as Sabbo and Gona. Under the Sabbo moiety, there are three major clans (Sabbo sadeen – the three Sabbo), and under the Gona moiety, there are two divisions comprising a total of fourteen clans. The populations of the Sabbo and Gona moieties are roughly equal in size. These two halves of society are interdependent in their structure and activities (Elemo 2005, 10). This moiety division is fundamental to Borana social organization: it regulates marriage (traditionally, one is to marry outside of one’s moiety) and defines complementary ritual and political roles, ensuring that the two halves of society must work together for any major function. Each moiety has indispensable responsibilities in ceremonies and governance, so neither can function without the other; this system of duality fosters unity and mutual obligations within the Borana community (Elemo 2005, 11).

In the pre-colonial era, the Borana thrived as a sovereign pastoralist society, with their socio-political life organized under the Gadaa system. This democratic institution facilitated resource allocation, conflict resolution, and leadership transitions, as Asmarom Legesse (1973) detailed. The Borana Oromo are best known among the Oromo as “traditional,” mainly because they preserved the Gadaa system against external pressures that eroded its practice elsewhere among the Oromo. The Gadaa system, a cyclical governance structure that organizes social, political, and economic life through generational roles and leadership transitions, declined or collapsed in many Oromo regions during the 19th century under the dual pressures of Abyssinian colonial expansion and the spread of Islam and Christianity, as noted by Mohammed Hassen (1994) in his historical analysis of Oromo subjugation. However, the Borana fiercely resisted these forces, maintaining the integrity of their Gadaa and Qaalluu systems despite attempts by the Abyssinian Empire under Emperor Menelik (and other leaders) to replace them with centralized governance and impose Orthodox Christianity as the state religion. Asafa Jalata (2010) highlights the Borana’s steadfast resistance to such cultural and political domination, noting their leaders’ refusal to abandon their indigenous system, which they viewed as the bedrock of their identity. Asmarom Leggesse (2000) posits that the Borana were less influenced by the imperial rules partly because of their geographic inaccessibility and nomadic way of life, which enabled them to move back and forth across the vast grazing lands of the Ethiopian-Kenyan border.

Previously, the Borana also resisted religious conversion, perceiving it as a threat to their Gadaa system and Indigenous religion (Megerssa 1993). This resistance is deeply tied to their adherence to Waaqeffannaa, the indigenous Oromo monotheistic belief system centered on the worship of Waaqa (God), which Asmarom Legesse (1973) describes as integral to the Gadaa system’s moral and cosmological foundation. Thus, traditionally, they have followed a monotheistic religion that holds Waaqa (Waaqeffannaa), God, to be omnipresent and omnipotent, the source of social order, fertility, and well-being. They honor Him through a series of regularly performed rituals, specifically the Gadaa system and the Qaalluu institution. Despite the gradual conversion of some Borana in urban and surrounding areas to Islam and Christianity, the majority remain followers of Waaqeffannaa, which has been pivotal in preserving their Gadaa system over centuries. Gufu Oba (2008) notes that this spiritual continuity has reinforced the Borana’s ability to maintain their customary practices, even as external pressures, such as environmental degradation and political marginalization, analyzed by Gunther Schlee (1998), challenge their pastoralist way of life. Scholars such as Tesema Ta’a (2006) and Kidane Mengisteab (2001) emphasize the Borana Gadaa system’s enduring significance as a model of indigenous governance, illustrating how cultural and spiritual resilience can counter the erosive effects of colonial domination, thereby ensuring the survival of a vital Oromo institution in the face of systemic adversity.

Marco Bassi (2010) emphasizes how the Gadaa system has enabled the Borana to manage their vast rangelands sustainably, fostering cooperative relations with neighboring groups, such as the Gabra and Guji. However, the late 19th-century colonial expansion of the Abyssinian Empire under Emperor Menelik marked a turning point, as the Borana were subjected to violent colonization aimed at extracting resources, such as cattle, to finance imperial ambitions. This process contributed to the broader subjugation of the Oromo.

The systemic marginalization persisted through successive Ethiopian regimes, which deliberately obscured demographic data to downplay the Oromo’s numerical dominance over the Amhara and Tigray, a tactic Asafa Jalata (2010) identifies as a mechanism of political and economic exploitation. For instance, the 1996 Ethiopian Central Statistical Authority report estimated the Borana population at only about 410,000, while a later census amid drought in 2000 reported 575,000 – figures that Ibrahim Amae Elemo (2005, 12) argues were severe underestimations reflecting state bias. At least 58% of Borana households are pure pastoralists, 31% are predominantly pastoralists, and 1% are farmers (ibid).

Under Haile Selassie’s monarchy (1930–1974) and the Marxist Derg regime (1974–1991), the Borana were further marginalized. The Derg’s villagization programs and collectivization schemes disrupted Borana pastoralist livelihoods, while recurrent droughts (notably in the 1970s and 1980s), exacerbated by state neglect, devastated Borana communities. The post-1991 EPRDF government introduced a policy of linguistic federalism, and in theory, Oromia – the Oromo regional state – is to provide the Borana and other Oromo groups a degree of self-rule. In practice, however, this reform did little to improve conditions on the ground. Due to neglect by the Ethiopian colonial government, the Borana community has remained illiterate, impoverished, and underdeveloped. Between 2020 and 2024, under the current neo-nafxanya government of Abiy Ahmed,^[5] approximately 3.5 million animals died of hunger and thirst, which led to about 95% milk production decrease and about 1.7 million people displaced.^[6] Also, about 800, 000 Borana faced famine during the same period, and hundreds of children suffered from severe malnutrition.^[7]

In their status, the Borana continue to face challenges within Ethiopia’s linguistic federal system, where the question of autonomy has not been fully addressed, and exclusion has continued, as noted by Leenco Lata (1999) in his analysis of the Oromo struggle for self-determination. The Ethiopian government routinely accuses them of supporting the Oromo Liberation Army (OLA), justifying military crackdowns, extrajudicial killings, and mass detentions.^[8] Their mineral-rich lands, particularly in Moyale, are exploited by foreign corporations without local consent or benefit, while large-scale land leases displace pastoralist communities.

The Guji

The Guji Oromo are one of the subgroups of the larger Oromo national community, predominantly residing in southern Oromia, where they have historically thrived as both pastoralists and agro-pastoralists in a region rich with cultural and natural resources. As part of the Oromo people, the Guji trace their origins to the broader Oromo moiety of Barentu, one of the two ancestral branches alongside Borana. This lineage shapes their identity within the Oromo nation, as noted in historical accounts of Oromo genealogy. They primarily inhabit the Guji and East Guji Zones of the Oromia Regional State, with significant populations in and around Negele Borana Town, as well as in neighboring areas of the Southern Nations, Nationalities, and Peoples’ Region (SNNPR), including Wondo-Gennet and Nechsar National Park (Regassa 2005). Like other Oromo groups, the Guji speak Afaan Oromoo, though with a distinct dialect that reflects their unique cultural identity. Unlike the neighboring Borana and many other Oromo groups, which each constitute relatively unitary identities, Guji is internally a confederation of several subdivisions. The Guji are composed of four independent, yet interrelated subgroups known as Uraga, Maatti, Hokku, and Alabdu.

The Alabdu, in turn, is a confederacy of two interdependent groups called Halo and Woyessu. Despite their autonomy in their respective territories and their right to exercise the Gadaa system under their own leadership, each component is mutually interdependent with the others. They historically allied together in times of warfare, assisted each other during natural calamities and economic crises, and, importantly, conducted certain Gadaa rituals together (Berisso 2004, 310). According to Asebe Regassa (2007, 14), the Guji territory spans three ecological zones: the Alaadduu lowlands (below 1,500 meters elevation) in the south, where communities are primarily pastoralist; the mid-altitude areas (1,500–2,500 meters, including regions such as Uraaga, Maatti, and Hokku) characterized by a mixed economy of herding and farming; and the northern highlands (above ~2,500 meters), where settled agriculture dominates alongside some pastoralism. Historically, the Guji were nomadic pastoralists in the lowlands, but over time, especially in the highland north, they diversified into farming and trade, adapting to their varied environment while preserving core cultural practices. Significantly, the Guji have robustly maintained their Gadaa system, with a functioning Gadaa council and ongoing Gadaa ceremonies, indicating the resilience of their indigenous institutions.

Despite their significant presence, there has been no reliable Guji Oromo census to determine their population accurately, a common issue for all Oromo in the Ethiopian empire, as the state has been obscuring demographic data to downplay the Oromo population’s numerical dominance, a tactic Asafa Jalata (2010) identifies as a deliberate strategy to maintain political control. The Guji have a religion called Mandooyyuu, which is another version of Waaqeffannaa, in which they believe in Waaqa (God). The religious leader is Qaalluu, and the political leader is Abbaa Gadaa. The Guji were not spared the consequences of Abyssinian imperial conquest in the late 19th century. Before Abyssinian colonialism, the Guji had a well-organized Gadaa system and a democratic socio-political governance structure, like other Oromo groups. According to Legesse (1973) and Marco Bassi (1996, 150), the Gadaa system is a highly comprehensive institution among the Oromo: virtually no Oromo cultural or historical concept can be understood without reference to Gadaa and the values it enshrines. John T. Hinnant (1977) further noted that Gadaa was deeply interwoven with both the spiritual and secular life of the Guji, structuring everything from political decision-making to rituals. The Guji economy was primarily pastoralist, though those in the northern highlands gradually incorporated agriculture and trade. Their territory, rich in natural resources like the gold deposits of Shakiso and the forests of Bada Magada, was a cradle of self-sustaining pastoral and agro-pastoral economies. This abundance has fostered interdependence with neighboring groups such as the Borana, with whom the Guji shared many cultural practices and resource-management systems (Schlee 1998).

The Guji, like other Oromo groups, were forcibly incorporated into the Ethiopian colonial state through violent conquests aimed at resource extraction, particularly to fund Menelik’s military campaigns (Hassen 1990). Following the colonization, the state employed both direct and indirect systems of administration. In some cases, northern settlers and landlords were assigned to specific areas. In other instances, the Guji Abba Gadaa and Qallu leaders were appointed as balabats (local chiefs) (Hinnant 1977, 25) in their respective administrative divisions. However, the local chiefs were under the intense supervision of the Amhara governors, who resided at the provincial and sub-provincial levels. Under Ethiopian colonialism, the Guji faced land dispossession, cultural suppression, and the imposition of Amhara-centric rule that dismantled their indigenous systems. The imperial administration implemented the nafxanya–gabbar system in Guji territory as well: northerners settled as landlords, and the Guji people were compelled to serve them, paying tribute in livestock and grain and providing labor. This exploitative arrangement further entrenched Guji’s subjugation.

The Guji’s Gadaa system was largely dismantled in an official capacity, ceremonies could no longer be held openly, and the Guji were expected to abide by the colonial hierarchy. Oromo identity, language (Afaan Oromoo), and cultural expressions were actively suppressed in schools and administration. This oppression continued under Emperor Haile Selassie, and later the Derg (military) regime, which further entrenched state control over Guji lands while exploiting their resources. Notably, large tracts of Guji land were allocated for state farms in the 1970s, and many Guji were relocated or forced into collectives during the Derg period. The Guji also suffered from the general neglect of pastoral regions, and government services and infrastructure were scant in the Guji areas. Despite Ethiopia’s fake federal restructuring in 1991, which ostensibly granted nominal linguistic self-administration, the Guji and other Oromo groups have remained politically and economically marginalized. Successive Ethiopian governments, whether under the EPRDF (1991–2018) or the current Prosperity Party, have continued policies of land expropriation, forced displacement, and violent repression in Oromo areas. The Guji’s resource-rich lands, particularly the gold mines of Shakiso, have become a focal point of exploitation: companies like MIDROC (owned by Saudi-Ethiopian billionaire Mohammed Al-Amoudi) were granted concessions to mine gold with little input from local communities. These mining activities led to severe environmental degradation (e.g., chemical pollution of water sources) and the displacement of villagers, while yielding minimal local benefit.

When local Guji residents protested (for instance, a major protest in 2018 over the renewal of MIDROC’s license at Lega Dembi mine), they were met with violent crackdowns by the state security forces. Thus, even in the federal era, Guji lands have been treated as sources of extractive wealth rather than regions to be developed for the benefit of their inhabitants. The Ethiopian government has frequently targeted the Guji, accusing them of supporting the Oromo Liberation (OLF) and its army, called the Oromo Liberation Army (OLA), a movement advocating for Oromo liberation and sovereignty. Under the pretext of counterinsurgency, security forces have carried out mass arrests, extrajudicial killings, and village burnings, displacing thousands. Reports from human rights organizations, including Human Rights Watch (HRW) and Amnesty International, document how Guji civilians have been arbitrarily detained, tortured, or killed under suspicion of OLF affiliations. Currently, the Guji Oromo are facing ongoing challenges within Ethiopia’s federal system, which, while granting nominal autonomy to Oromia, has failed to address their socio-economic exclusion and has instead deepened inter-ethnic tensions. For instance, the 2023 establishment of the East Borana Zone, which shifted administrative control over Negele Borana Town (previously under Guji Zone administration), has reignited historical grievances between the Guji and Borana, with the Guji perceiving it as a loss of power and access to resources.^[9] This administrative change, lacking democratic consultation, has fueled protests and violence, underscoring the Guji’s sense of marginalization within the Oromia region. Historically, the Guji and Borana Oromo had a strong interdependence, sharing grazing lands and water resources. However, due to state-engineered resource scarcity and political manipulation, conflicts between them have escalated. The Ethiopian government has been accused of fueling tensions by arming militias, restricting pastoralist mobility, and failing to mediate disputes. Competition over grazing land and water has led to violent clashes, displacing communities and fracturing indigenous alliances.

In summary, the Guji Oromo, like many indigenous groups in Ethiopia, face systemic oppression that stretches from the era of imperial conquest to present-day economic exploitation and state violence. They struggle for land rights, cultural preservation, and political representation. While their resilience is evident in how they have adapted to ecological challenges and resisted marginalization (for example, by reviving aspects of Gadaa and maintaining community solidarity), lasting peace and development for the Guji will require addressing historical injustices, ensuring equitable resource distribution (such as sharing revenues from local gold mining), and granting them genuine freedom and voice to determine their destiny with the larger Oomo nation. The Guji story thus illustrates both the endurance of Oromo culture and the urgent need for policy changes to resolve long-standing grievances.

The Gabra

The Gabra Oromo, a subgroup of the larger Oromo nation, are a predominantly pastoralist people living in the arid borderlands straddling southern Ethiopia and northern Kenya. Their nomadic lifestyle revolves around herding (with camels being especially central) and moving in search of grazing and water in the Chalbi Desert and related regions. While the exact origins of the Gabra are debated, they maintain strong cultural, linguistic, and political ties to the broader Oromo nation, particularly with the Borana Oromo, who are often considered their “brothers.” In his study of the Gabra, Paul W. Robinson (1985) presents them as a highly adaptive society whose identity and social organization are fundamentally shaped by their harsh desert environment. He defines the Gabra as “camel-keeping pastoralists who have developed specialized strategies for surviving in the marginal drylands of northern Kenya” (Robinson 1985, 23), emphasizing their sophisticated ecological knowledge and flexible social structures. Robinson situates them firmly within the Oromo cultural sphere while noting distinct adaptations, arguing that “the Gabra have maintained elements of Oromo social organization, particularly in their age-set system, while developing unique clan-based strategies for resource management” (1985, 47).

Scholars such as Aneesa Kassam (1995; 2006) likewise describe the Gabra as an integral part of the Oromo nation, underscoring their use of Afaan Oromoo (a dialect close to Borana) and their deep ritual affiliations with the Borana. In contrast, Günther Schlee (1989) introduces a contested perspective, suggesting that many Gabra claim descent from Somali clans rather than the Oromo, a view Kassam and Gemetchu Megerssa (1993) challenge by highlighting historical and ethnographic evidence such as shared oral traditions and Gadaa practices that firmly situate the Gabra within the Oromo lineage.^[10] Aneesa Kassam (2006) further underscores the Gabra’s identity through their role in the Borana Gadaa system, noting that their participation in rituals, such as the generational transition ceremonies, is indispensable; without it, the Borana Gadaa cycle cannot be completed, illustrating a profound interdependence. It is also worth noting that, despite sharing numerous cultural traits with the neighboring Borana community, the Gabra exhibit distinct differences. For instance, while their everyday language is the Borana dialect of Oromo, their religious chants (dikira), which likely have Sufi Islamic influences, incorporate some non-Oromo words.

Socially, the Gabra are structured into generation sets (luba), like the Borana, but—unlike the Borana—they lack a centralized, all-encompassing Gadaa governance institution of their own. Instead, the Gabra society is divided into five principal subgroups known as the “five drums” (dibbee shanan), each of which possesses a symbolic drum conferred by the Borana Qaalluu (Kassam 2006, 177). The five phratries of the Gabra are Alganna, Gaara, Galbo, Odoola, and Shaarbana. Apart from the Odoola, each of these sections is divided into two exogamous moieties (the right-hand Jiblo vs. left-hand Lossa divisions). The Odoola are uniquely divided into two endogamous parts, distinguished by camel brands rather than strict exogamy (Kassam 2006, 178). This complex social structure demonstrates that, while the Gabra borrowed organizational elements from their Oromo kin (such as age-sets and ritual roles bestowed by Borana leaders), they also innovated to suit their needs.

In the pre-colonial period, the Gabra thrived as an autonomous pastoralist society, with their socio-political and economic structures intricately organized by their own Gadaa system. Marco Bassi (2010) describes this system as a framework for resource management, conflict resolution, and leadership rotation. The Gadaa system among the Gabra divided society into age sets and generational classes, ensuring equitable access to resources like grazing lands and wells, a practice Gufu Oba (2008) highlights as critical for sustaining their nomadic economy in the harsh arid environment. Economically, the Gabra were pure pastoralists, with their livelihood entirely dependent on livestock, primarily camels, cattle, and goats, which they herded across vast territories. They moved seasonally to adapt to ecological conditions, as Schlee (1989) documents in his study of pastoralist mobility in northern Kenya. Their socio-political structure was egalitarian, with decision-making power distributed among Gadaa leaders, known as Abbaa Gadaa, who oversaw communal affairs. Religion played a pivotal role in reinforcing this structure, though the Gabra’s religious landscape has evolved significantly over time.

Contrary to the assumption that they predominantly adhere to Waaqeffannaa, the indigenous Oromo monotheistic belief system, many Gabra have historically transitioned to Islam due to their proximity and interactions with Somali clans, a shift documented by Schlee (1989) in his ethnographic work. Schlee notes that by the late 20th century, the majority of Gabra in northern Kenya identified as Muslims, a change driven by centuries of trade, intermarriage, and cultural exchange with neighboring Somali pastoralists, particularly the Garre, with whom they share the borderlands. Aneesa Kassam (2006) further elaborates that while some Gabra retain elements of Waaqeffannaa, especially in their Gadaa rituals, where spiritual practices such as blessings for rain and fertility are performed, the expansion of Islam since at least the 19th century has largely replaced these indigenous beliefs, particularly in Kenya. In Ethiopia, where the Gabra live in the Borana Zone, the influence of Christianity, stemming from Abyssinian colonial rule and later missionary activities, also contributed to religious diversification. However, Islam remains dominant, as Baxter (1978) observes in his studies of Borana-Gabra interactions. This spiritual shift has influenced their Gadaa system, with Islamic practices sometimes integrated into rituals. However, the core structure of Gadaa as a socio-political institution has persisted, as Bassi (2010) notes, reflecting the Gabra’s ability to adapt while preserving their cultural framework.

During the colonial period, the Gabra faced major disruptions under two different colonial regimes: Abyssinian rule in the south (for those in today’s Ethiopia) and British administration in the north (for those in Kenya). In Ethiopia, Emperor Menelik’s late 19th-century conquest targeted the Gabra’s resource-rich grazing territories, extracting livestock to fund imperial ambitions. This was part of the broader pattern of Oromo subjugation described earlier. Imperial forces raided the Gabra camels and cattle to supply their army. Gabra oral history, as well as Ethiopian records, indicate that Menelik’s commanders imposed heavy tribute on the Gabra, demanding livestock and sometimes seizing wells. As a point of explanation: Menelik expropriated livestock by sending armed horsemen into pastoral encampments, confiscating herds at gunpoint and punishing any resistance. The Gabra, like the Borana, lost a significant portion of their animal wealth to these imperial raids, weakening their economy and social structure. As noted, the Abyssinian regime’s divide-and-rule tactics intensified competition among local groups. Oba (2008) writes that the introduction of fixed boundaries between Borana and Gabra grazing domains by the imperial authorities led to increased disputes where previously flexible arrangements existed. Indigenous resource-sharing mechanisms upheld by the Gadaa system were disrupted when Ethiopian officials favored some clans over others to prevent a united resistance.

In northern Kenya, British colonial policies imposed fixed boundaries, restricting the mobility of the Gabra and exacerbating resource scarcity, which often led to increased tensions with the Borana over access to pasture. The expansion of Islam during this period, facilitated by colonial trade networks and the Gabra’s marginalization from Christian missionary efforts, further solidified their religious identity, as Schlee (1989) observes, often serving as a unifying factor in their interactions with other Muslim pastoralist groups. The Gabra’s relationship with the Borana, while historically interdependent, has been marked by both cooperation and conflict. Their ritual interdependence, as Kassam (2006) describes, is evident in the Gadaa system, where Gabra elders participate in the Borana ceremonies (Buttaa Ceremony) to ensure the continuity of generational cycles. However, colonial policies fueled disputes, particularly over resources, as Oba (2008) illustrates in his study of Borana-Gabra rangeland conflicts, where shrinking pasturelands due to environmental degradation and administrative boundaries have led to violent clashes. Politically, the Gabra have often diverged from broader Oromo nationalist movements, notably opposing the Oromo Liberation Front (OLF). In Ethiopia, their alignment with the EPRDF’s Oromo People’s Democratic Organization (OPDO) led by Tigrayan colonialists in the 1990s and 2000s to counter Borana dominance in the Borana Zone reflects an opportunistic approach, a strategy Baxter (2005) notes that increased their representation but deepened inter-group tensions, as the Gabra prioritized local interests over the OLF’s pan-Oromo agenda, which they perceived as Borana-led.^[11]

In their current situation, the Gabra Oromo face complex challenges in both Ethiopia and Kenya. In Ethiopia, they reside primarily in the Borana Zone of the Oromia Regional State, where they face ongoing resource conflicts and political marginalization within the so-called federal system. In northern Kenya, where most Gabra live, they confront environmental pressures such as drought and land degradation that threaten their pastoral livelihoods. This concern is raised by Oba (2008) in his ecological studies. Despite these challenges, the Gabra maintain their cultural identity through the Gadaa system, which, while influenced by Islamic practices, continues to guide their socio-political life, as Bassi (2010) documents. Their historical interdependence with the Borana persists through shared rituals and peace initiatives, such as the 2009 Borana-Gabra Peace Committee, which leverages customary laws to mitigate conflict. However, their nomadic lifestyle and distinct political strategies continue to shape their unique position in the Horn of Africa.

The Oromo of Northern Kenya: Neglected History and Culture

The Oromo communities of northern Kenya, including the Borana, Gabra, Sakuye, Orma, Waata, and Wardeh, trace their origins to the broader Oromo nation. The Borana, among others, remained part of this broader Oromo group and preserved their Gadaa governance system, which Marco Bassi (2010) describes as a form of democracy that ensures social justice and resource sharing among themselves. Facing violence, tribute demands, and alien rule, some groups, like segments of the Borana, began drifting southward. Baxter (1978) noted instances of Borana herds moving into British-occupied territory to escape Abyssinian raids. The British colonial authorities in Kenya were aware of these population movements; in fact, they formalized the separation with the 1907 Anglo-Ethiopian Treaty, which delineated the boundary between British East Africa and the Ethiopian Empire. This border essentially “froze” the facts on the ground at that time, legalizing Oromo displacements that had already occurred. Ali Balla Bashuna (1991) points out that the 1907 treaty was signed after many Borana and related groups had fled south, effectively giving Menelik title to the northern areas he had depopulated and acknowledging British control where the Oromo had resettled.

From 1963 onward, when Kenya gained independence, the Oromo in northern Kenya found themselves increasingly marginalized within the new nation-state. The demography of independent Kenya left the Afaan Oromoo speaking pastoralists as a small minority (Kenya’s population being dominated by other national groups), and their homeland in the Northern Frontier District (NFD) was remote from the centers of power in Nairobi. During the pre-colonial period, as noted, these Oromo groups had lived as sovereign herders under their own Gadaa governance, forming cooperative relations with neighboring peoples when necessary (Oba 2008). Their mobility enabled them to respond flexibly to ecological changes, and even under British rule, they managed to adapt to some degree to restrictions. But after Kenyan independence, new challenges emerged. The 1960s brought the Shifta (bandit) War (1963–1967), in which Somali secessionists in Kenya’s north-eastern region attempted to join the area with Somalia. The Borana community in Kenya, who were concentrated in what was then Isiolo and Marsabit districts, found themselves caught in the middle of this insurgency, often targeted by both Somali rebels and Kenyan government forces. As Mario Aguilar (1998) discusses, the Shifta (bandit) conflict further alienated the Borana and related groups from the Kenyan state: Nairobi’s government imposed harsh security measures across the north (including forced villagization and collective punishment), which devastated pastoral economies and sowed mistrust. Thus, these Oromo communities were left underdeveloped, a phenomenon that also holds for northern Kenya’s political economy.

Today, the Oromo groups in northern Kenya face ongoing obstacles, including resource conflicts, environmental degradation, and crises of cultural self-identification. One salient result of the ongoing drought and land degradation has, as Gufu Oba (2008) notes, heightened competition for pasture and water sources among the Borana and Somali clans, leading to armed clashes in Marsabit and Moyale. The Gabra and Garre, for this matter, became Muslim during the '80s (Schlee 1989), then again Christian, thus posing a threat to the continuity of their culture that is different from other Oromo peoples who follow the Waqeffannaa religion, as Aneesa Kassam (2006) analyzes in her study on Gabra Ethno-History. As Kenyan authorities historically classified populations into broad lineage categories (and did not recognize “Oromo” as a distinct census category), many of these people were officially listed as Somali, Rendille, etc., further obscuring their Oromo heritage. Kelly (1992) argues that this has resulted in a crisis of identity, as many smaller Oromo groups in Kenya (such as the Sakuye, Waata, and Orma) struggle to articulate and preserve their Oromo legacy amid pressure to assimilate into neighboring cultures or broader labels. For instance, the Sakuye and Waata, being few and not officially recognized as Oromo groups in Kenya, often must identify as Borana or Somali in official documents, which erodes their distinct identity over time.

On the other hand, the larger Oromo nation has also largely overlooked or neglected these Oromo communities of northern Kenya. Oromo studies have historically centered on the Oromo nation within the Ethiopian Empire, given its larger population and political movements. Baxter (1978) noted that, because of the prominence of the Oromo liberation struggle in Ethiopia, the Oromo in Kenya were overlooked. This omission has left a gap in the documented record of the experiences of these Kenyan Oromo groups. Their history has instead been written by outsiders, often colonial administrators or, in some cases, Somali scholars who sometimes advanced a narrative that these groups were Somali offshoots. In effect, failing to record their own oral histories and perspectives allowed “competing narratives” to flourish, some of which diminished their Oromo identity (e.g., claims that the Waata or Sakuye are just Somali or Rendille who adopted the Oromo language, which the groups themselves vehemently dispute. Thus, Oromo scholars and researchers must address this gap by investigating the highly forgotten and academically neglected Oromo communities in northern Kenya, documenting their histories through oral records, and advancing efforts to construct a comprehensive written history of the Oromo within the Horn of Africa. Such scholarship could elucidate the broader impacts of colonial legacies and state marginalization on pastoralist societies, enhancing understanding of their experiences and emphasizing that a complete representation of Oromia’s national identity requires integrating these overlooked narratives. Furthermore, focusing on these communities is crucial for uniting and strengthening the Oromo’s influence in the Horn of Africa and on the global stage in the long term, fostering a more cohesive and empowered Oromo nation. Having provided a comprehensive overview of the Oromo in northern Kenya, this section will now briefly examine each group individually, focusing on their origins, historical ties, and contemporary circumstances.

The Borana of Northern Kenya

The Borana Oromo of northern Kenya are a nomadic, cattle-herding community and a direct extension of the Borana Oromo discussed earlier in the Ethiopian context. They trace their origins to the Borana moiety of the Oromo people, where their ancestors lived as part of the larger Borana society governed by the Gadaa system. They settled in the northern frontier regions of Kenya, particularly around Marsabit and Moyale, where open rangelands supported pastoralism. The 1907 Anglo-Ethiopian Treaty formalized the Kenya–Ethiopia border, restricting the Borana’s traditional trans-border mobility for grazing (Oba 2013) In the pre-colonial period, the Borana in northern Kenya were sovereign pastoralists, sharing cultural and ritual ties with their Oromo national counterparts, as P.T.W. Baxter (1965) describes in his D.Phil. thesis, The Social Organization of the Galla of North Kenya. During British colonial rule, the imposition of grazing permits and fixed boundaries disrupted their nomadic lifestyle, exacerbating resource scarcity and tensions with neighboring Somali clans, a dynamic Günther Schlee and Abdullahi A. Shongolo (1993) explore in their analysis of Oromo-Somali ethnicity. Post-independence, the Kenyan government continued this marginalization, particularly during the 1960s Shifta War, where the Borana were caught in conflicts with Somali secessionists, further isolating them.

Despite these challenges, the Borana of northern Kenya have remarkably preserved their identity, culture, and language. They maintain a strong connection to the Gadaa system centered in southern Oromia, even though they live in a different country. To this day, the Kenyan Borana acknowledge and follow the rulings of the same Abba Gadaa (Gadaa leader) as the Borana in Oromia. They send delegates to participate in Gadaa ceremonies across the border and host visits from Oromo ritual leaders. Bassi (2005) documents cases of cross-border juridical processes, illustrating how a dispute among Borana in Kenya might be settled by referencing decisions made at Borana Gadaa assemblies in Oromia. This cultural continuity is extraordinary, given the pressures of British/Kenyan policies and the Islamization that occurred. While in Oromia, many Borana remained followers of Waaqeffannaa; the Borana in Kenya largely converted to Islam throughout the 20th century due to their interactions with Somali neighbors and traders (Schlee 1989). According to Mario Aguilar (1998, 2), once the Borana arrived in Kenya and found themselves cut off from their traditional religious centers (like sacred Borana sites in Oromia), they gradually adopted Islam as a religious practice.

By the mid-20th century, most Kenyan Borana were Muslim, especially in towns and trading centers, although some more remote families retained indigenous beliefs a while longer. Importantly, this conversion has not eroded their commitment to Borana cultural practices and social structure. Schlee (1989) noted that, even as they prayed in mosques, Borana clans in Kenya continued to observe Gadaa age-set rituals and Oromo moral codes. Aguilar (1998) similarly observes in Being Oromo in Kenya that Kenyan Borana managed to be devout Muslims while still valuing their Oromo heritage and participating in Borana institutions. Their livelihood, historically centered on nomadic pastoralism, has also diversified over time. While many Borana in Kenya still practice pure pastoralism (cattle herding with seasonal migration), factors like environmental degradation, loss of grazing lands, and new economic opportunities have pushed some into complementary activities such as trading, transport (many Borana started businesses ferrying goods or operating shops in small towns), or wage labor. Oba (2001) discusses this nascent diversification, noting that some Borana, unable to sustain large herds due to frequent drought or a lack of grazing land, have moved into small-scale agriculture in more arable areas or taken jobs in urban centers.

In their status, the Borana of northern Kenya face ongoing challenges yet continue to assert their rights. They are still embroiled in resource conflicts with some Somali clans, particularly the Garre, over watering points and pastures along the Kenya–Ethiopia border. These disputes are exacerbated by recurrent drought and land degradation, and occasionally by political incitement. The Kenyan government’s historical neglect of pastoralist regions has perpetuated the Borana’s socio-economic marginalization. Aguilar (1998) emphasizes how the Borana have been largely excluded from Kenya’s national development agenda, noting that until recently, there were few Borana in significant government positions and minimal state investment in their areas. This is slowly changing with devolution: today, Borana leaders can influence local county governments (e.g., Marsabit County has had Borana governors). Despite this, development indicators for Borana-populated areas (education, healthcare, income levels) remain below national averages.

Culturally and linguistically, the Borana maintain a strong sense of identity. They speak the Borana dialect of Afaan Oromoo, which remains largely intact (though enriched with some loanwords from Swahili). They celebrate Oromo cultural events and increasingly network with the Oromo in Oromia and the diaspora to promote their heritage. However, their Islamic faith has introduced a layer of difference from their Oromo kin, who might still practice Waaqeffannaa or Christianity. As Schlee and Shongolo (1993) explore, this has led to interesting dynamics: for example, some Kenyan Borana might identify with Somali Muslims on religious matters while still aligning with the Oromo Borana in Oromia on cultural matters. Nonetheless, the resilience of Borana institutions—such as clan councils, customary law (the aadaa Borana), and the concept of nagaa Borana (Borana peace)—has enabled them to withstand historical and contemporary adversities. The Borana of Kenya continue to exemplify the enduring strength of Oromo cultural continuity, even as they adapt to a changing socio-political landscape.

The Gabra of Northern Kenya

The Gabra Oromo of northern Kenya are also a nomadic, camel-herding subgroup of the broader Oromo national community, primarily residing in the arid Chalbi Desert region of Marsabit and Moyale counties, and historically linked to the Gabra Oromo of southern Oromia. Their origin remains highly contested among scholars. Aneesa Kassam (2006) argues that the Gabra are firmly rooted in the Oromo lineage, emphasizing their linguistic and ritual ties through the Gadaa system, in which their participation in Borana ceremonies, symbolized by the "five drums" (dibbee shanan), is essential to generational transitions. Conversely, others, such as Günther Schlee (1989) and Paul W. Robinson (1985), have suggested that the Gabra might have a mixed or even Somali origin, citing some Gabra genealogical claims and cultural overlaps with the Garre. However, Kassam challenges this perspective with ethnohistorical evidence: shared Oromo oral traditions, Gadaa practices, and enduring alliances that situate the Gabra within the Oromo world. In the broader sense, the Gabra are camel nomads who live on the borderlands of Kenya and Oromia, can be described as forming a ‘‘composite’’ society, which is made up of segments that originate from many of the communities that inhabit the Lake Turkana (formerly Lake Rudolf) region and beyond it, to the southern Oromia highlands, across to Somalia, and down to the Tana River.

In the pre-colonial period, the Gabra were free pastoralists, deeply integrated with the Borana through shared cultural practices, as P.T.W. Baxter (1965) describes, relying on camels for sustenance and mobility in the harsh desert environment. During British rule, their nomadic lifestyle was disrupted by grazing restrictions and the imposition of fixed boundaries, intensifying resource competition with groups such as the Turkana and Rendille, as Schlee (1989) highlights. Despite these challenges, the Gabra preserved their identity, culture, and language, speaking a Borana dialect of Afaan Oromoo through their strong communal reciprocity system, exemplified by camel-lending practices, and their continued adherence to their traditional rituals, as Marco Bassi (2005) underscores. Their relationship with Gabra communities in Ethiopia remains robust, maintained through cross-border kinship ties and shared cultural practices, despite colonial divisions, as Gufu Oba (2001) observes in his study of shifting identities along resource borders. The majority of the Gabra in Kenya have converted to Islam, influenced by interactions with their Somali neighbors, a shift that Schlee (1989) attributes to historical trade and intermarriage. However, some retain elements of their traditional Waaqeffannaa beliefs in Gadaa rituals, as noted by Kassam (2006).

The Gabra’s livelihood in Kenya continues to center on nomadic pastoralism, with camels providing milk, meat, and transport. However, droughts and government-built water pumps have introduced dependencies, as Robinson (1985) discusses. Currently, the Gabra face challenges from environmental degradation, resource conflicts, and marginalization by the Kenyan state, as Baxter (2005) critiques. Despite this, their cultural resilience endures, rooted in their nomadic traditions and communal values. However, general Oromo studies have largely overlooked the Gabra and other Kenyan Oromo communities, focusing predominantly on the larger Oromo groups because of their political prominence in Oromo liberation movements. This neglect highlights the need for Oromo scholars to shift their focus toward these often-overlooked communities, such as the Gabra and the Kenyan Oromo in general, to document their histories, cultural contributions, and contemporary struggles, thereby fostering a more inclusive understanding of Oromo national identity across the Horn of Africa.

The Orma

The Orma Oromo are a subgroup of the Oromo nation residing primarily along the lower Tana River in northeastern Kenya. The term “Orma” itself is said to mean “the estranged ones” in Oromo, reflecting the narrative that they became separated from the main Borana body and established a distinct identity. The Orma thus have deep historical roots in Kenya, much earlier than the Borana and others who arrived in the 19th century. Their identity is deeply rooted in their Oromo origin, their once-nomadic pastoral lifestyle, and, over the last two centuries, a firm adherence to Islam. The Orma’s migration positioned them in the coastal hinterlands of Kenya, along the Tana River delta and surrounding plains. Initially, they maintained a pastoralist livelihood centered on cattle herding, like their Borana relatives. However, proximity to the Indian Ocean and interaction with coastal peoples introduced new subsistence activities: some Orma took up fishing (unusual among most Oromo) and engaged in trade with Swahili merchants.

Over time, their economy evolved to include floodplain agriculture (particularly maize and bananas) along the Tana River, reflecting ecological adaptations as described by Kelly (1992). Administratively, the Orma also governed themselves through the Gadaa system until the 19th century. They had their own Gadaa leaders and age-set rituals, though, being far from the Oromo heartland, their Gadaa system became localized and eventually waned under the combined influence of religious change and colonial disruption. By the 19th century, the Orma had largely converted to Islam. This was facilitated by trade and intermarriage with the Muslim Swahili and Somali communities along the East African coast. Hilarie Ann Kelly (1992) argues that this transformation reconfigured Oromo society, especially affecting their moral and gender relations; Islamic norms gradually displaced some traditional Oromo practices, and Islamic authorities (imams, sheikhs) assumed roles in community leadership that once might have been filled by Gadaa officials. Indeed, the widespread adoption of Islam (from the 1800s onward) distanced the Orma from Waaqeffannaa (the indigenous Oromo religion) and led them to become integrated into the broader Islamic culture of the coastal region

Despite these changes, the Orma have preserved their Oromo language, speaking a dialect closely resembling that of the Borana, a testament to their cultural continuity.^[12] However, their Oromo identity gradually shifted under external influences. Because of their early conversion to Islam and long separation, the Orma were often not recognized as Oromo by outsiders; colonial records frequently labeled them “Galla” or “Wardei” or just “Somali” due to linguistic confusion. Within Kenya’s ethnic framework, the Orma often got grouped under the umbrella of “Somali” or “Cushites” rather than Oromo. Only recently has the term “Orma Oromo” gained currency among scholars and the Orma themselves to assert their true heritage. (Kelly 1992). An interesting footnote is that some small groups have branched off from the Orma. For example, there is the Munyoyaya (Munyo), a community of about 15,000 people who live along the Tana River. They speak the Orma language and are generally considered part of the Orma population (some classify them as a sub-clan). The Munyonyonyi traditionally specialize in fishing, reflecting a niche adaptation, and both the Orma proper and the Munyonyonyi are Muslim communities sharing similar cultures.

Before British colonial rule, the Orma were relatively sovereign. They had alliances and conflicts with their neighbors (for instance, they alternated between cooperation and competition with the Wardei and Somali clans in the region). The British, upon colonizing Kenya, initially encountered the Orma as part of the “Somali” grouping in the late 19th century, but later classified them separately after recognizing linguistic differences. Under colonial rule, the Orma faced significant disruption: colonial administrators alienated some of the best Orma grazing lands along the Tana River for agricultural projects (irrigated farms, ranches, etc.), undermining Orma pastoralism. They also imposed administrative structures that did not align with Orma indigenous leadership, for instance, appointing chiefs and headmen through the colonial Native Authority system, which diminished the role of the Abba Gadaa and the council of elders. During the colonial era, the Orma experienced further marginalization. The British, focusing on their coastal economic interests, prioritized settled agriculture and left pastoralists like the Orma on the economic periphery.

When Kenya became independent, the Orma region (in Tana River District) remained underdeveloped and politically weak. The Orma also got entangled in land conflicts with the Pokomo, a neighboring Bantu farming community along the Tana River. The Pokomo are farmers and fishermen who depend on the river’s flood cycles for irrigation. The Orma, as herders, need access to the river to water their herds, especially during the dry seasons. Historically, the Orma and Pokomo had a symbiotic relationship: the Orma traded milk and meat for Pokomo grain, and each kept largely to their respective niches. However, from the 20th century, competition for the finite riverine land intensified, partly due to population growth and politicization of ethnic identities. Since 2001, there have been intermittent violent clashes and revenge raids between the Orma and Pokomo in the Tana River District. These conflicts, often erupting over access to water and grazing vs. farming land, have been exacerbated by modern factors like the availability of guns (modern weapons dramatically increased fatalities compared to traditional spear and bow skirmishes. Despite their historical significance, Oromo scholarship has largely overlooked the Orma, focusing on the larger Oromo groups, a gap that underscores the urgent need for Oromo scholars to redirect their attention to this often-neglected community in Tana River, Kenya, to document their history, cultural resilience, and contemporary struggles, thereby enriching the broader narrative of Oromo national identity in the Horn of Africa.

The Wardei

The Wardei Oromo (also spelled Wardeh) are a small Oromo group living in the same general region as the Orma, along parts of the Tana River District (now Tana River County) in Kenya. They live among the Orma and Munyoyaya and, like them, are mainly pastoralists occupying the drier scrublands. The Wardei are sometimes considered part of the broader Orma community, but they have a distinct identity. Their language and pastoral practices clearly indicate Oromo origins and close ties to the Borana/Orma. However, specifics of their early history are scarce, largely because this community is very small and has been heavily marginalized (Baxter 1978). Ethnographic studies of northern Kenya’s pastoral societies generally identify the Wardei as an Oromo-speaking group whose history and cultural patterns link them closely to other Oromo pastoralists in the region, even though their position within the Oromo–Somali frontier has exposed them to strong Somali cultural and political influences (Schlee 1989). Over time, due to their small size and peripheral status, the Wardei have faced acute socio-political marginalization. There is very little documented history of their origins in written form. While their own oral traditions assert that they are Oromo who came from the southern Oromo country, interestingly, many Somali historians and local Kenyan Somali politicians have claimed the Wardei as Somalis.

The Wardei, much like the Waata and Sakuye, discussed below, fell victim to what can be termed historical misrepresentation by outsiders. Somali intellectuals and politicians in Kenya, often aiming to boost the apparent numerical and political strength of Somalis in the country, have a history of asserting that numerous small Oromo groups adjacent to Somali clans are of Somali origin (these claims are often in political pamphlets or rhetoric; therefore, specific citations are hard to come by). Kassam and Bashuna (2004) describe analogous situations for the Waata and other groups, noting how outsiders’ perspectives have skewed the identities of marginalized Oromo communities. In the absence of widely published material on the Wardei, one can reasonably draw parallels: like the Waata and Sakuye, the Wardei’s history has been told by others rather than by themselves.

The Wardei’s prolonged socio-economic and political marginalization has had dire effects: they are few, often landless or with very constrained grazing areas, and until recently, essentially voiceless in national affairs. This marginalization means very little academic or government attention is paid to documenting them. Only through works focusing on northern Kenya’s ethnic mosaic (like Baxter 1978 and broader anthropological analyses of pastoral identity in the region (Schlee 1989), including some limited oral history sources, provide brief insights into their existence. As of the present, the Wardei, like the Waata, are not officially listed as an Oromo group in Kenya. When registering for national ID cards, they must choose an officially recognized group. Typically, a Wardei person must register as Orma or Somali on their ID, since “Wardei” isn’t on the list. This is a common plight (as described earlier for Waata): such administrative erasure has profound implications. Without official recognition, they cannot easily lobby for their own political representation (such as parliamentary seats or reserved county positions for minorities). They also risk assimilation or identity loss over generations, as younger members might simply merge into larger groups.^[13]

The Sakuye

The Sakuye Oromo are another smaller Oromo group in northern Kenya, closely related to the Borana. Their name, “Sakuye,” is derived from Saaku, a traditional Borana territory north of Marsabit; thus, “Saakuye” literally means “people of Saaku” in Afaan Oromo. The Sakuye originated as a faction of the Borana Oromo who split off in the 19th century, influenced by a combination of nomadic movements, internal conflicts, pressures from neighboring communities, and colonial intervention (Schlee 1989). Essentially, a group of Borana clans from the Saaku area moved and began to be identified separately, especially after some intermixing with Rendille and Somali neighbors. When a group of Rendille moved north from Marsabit, their Borana neighbors called them the “Saakuye,” a name that eventually became theirs. Even though the Sakuye People firmly attach their origin to the Borana (they speak a pure Borana dialect), some oral histories indicate that they also share Rendille and Somali origins. Sadly, the Sakuye and similar Oromo groups in northern Kenya have faced academic marginalization, resulting in a lack of documented history from their perspective. Instead, their history has been recorded by external parties, particularly Somali scholars, who frequently present a skewed narrative that suggests these groups have Somali origins. This misrepresentation persists despite clear cultural and linguistic evidence indicating their Oromo heritage. The deliberate distortion of Sakuye history by Somali scholars aims to assert a Somali lineage, thereby enhancing the Somali demographic presence in Kenya to secure greater political influence.

The Sakuye people’s livelihood depends on semi-nomadic pastoralism. According to Schlee (1989), following Kenya’s independence, nearly all the Sakuye’s livestock died due to the Shifta war in 1963 between the Somalis and the Kenyan government. The Sakuye were caught in the middle, and most Sakuye became destitute. Some were able to rebuild their herds, but many remain poor. They survived by taking up agriculture. Their culture is undergoing fundamental changes as they strive to maintain their identity. where Sakuye had unique rituals or clan customs, many have given way to Islamic norms. Traditional Sakuye songs or ceremonies might now be replaced by Islamic prayers, and identity is often expressed in religious terms. Yet, in remote areas, older Sakuye still recount their Oromo lineage, and some pre-Islamic customs survive in modified form (perhaps in baby-naming practices or blessing rituals).

In Kenyan politics, the Sakuye barely registers as a separate entity. Like the Wardei and Waata, they must often align with either the Borana or Somali blocs. Many Sakuye have effectively merged with the Borana in recent decades; others who live among Somalis might simply be considered Somali by outsiders.^[14] Their lack of documented history from their perspective means younger Sakuye might not fully know their heritage, especially if educated in schools where they are identified as Somali.

The Waata

The Waata Oromo are a unique subgroup within the Oromo people, traditionally known as hunter-gatherers who lived symbiotically with the Borana in southern Oromia, providing hunting services in exchange for pastoral resources. The Waata do not constitute a homogeneous community (Bassi 1997). They live in scattered territorial groups along the Tana and Galana rivers, the Taru Desert in eastern Kenya, on the Kenyan coast, in Isiolo and Marsabit districts in northern Kenya, and in parts of southern, central, and western Oromia, as well as on the shores of Lake Tana. Traditionally, the Borana cohabited with the Waata hunter-gatherers, who occupied a social category that played a crucial role in Borana ritual but were nonetheless despised for their habit of disregarding food taboos. Oral accounts from the Borana Oromo reveal that the Waata community was traditionally regarded with lower status due to their practice of consuming meat from wild animals, which were considered forbidden.^[15] This behavior led to a prohibition on intermarriage between the Waata and the Borana. Consequently, the Waata faced social ostracism, compelling them to undertake menial labor, thereby alienating them from the majority of the Borana population. As they experienced social, political, and economic marginalization, many Waata were driven to migrate to northern Kenya in search of sustenance and to reclaim their identity, striving to restore a reputation historically tarnished. According to Borbor Bule (as cited in Elemo 2005, 51), "Even though the Waata are condemned for eating forbidden animals, they are not ostracized if they seek absolution and abandon the habit of eating non-permissible animals and obey the Borana norm, asserting that Borana people do not have fundamental reason other than their habits to alienate and discriminate the Waata". But Ali Balla Bashuna (1991), a Waata Oromo scholar and advocate of the Waata rights, disagrees with this oral myth about Waata. Instead, he used the term “Blessed Caste” for the Waata, because, like the low castes in India, the Waata are an endogamous group whom the Borana and Gabra pastoralists despise.

He stated that such contempt (tuffii) arose because the Waata were impoverished and lacked large numbers of livestock. This factor, rather than the nature of the food they consumed, rendered the Waata ‘impure’ in the eyes of the other groups. He pointed out that in the past, many Borana and Gabra had eaten wild game meat provided by the Waata during periods of drought. Similarly, Borana and Gabra children who Waata families raised for ritual or medical reasons had also eaten the same foods as their counterparts. The ingestion of these products could not, therefore, be used as a criterion for measuring degrees of social or ritual purity. Ali stated that the Waata are a ‘blessed caste’ because of the role they play in rituals in which they act as representatives of the High Priest (Qaalluu) of the Oromo (Kassam 2006, 195). In the precolonial period, they were socially integrated with the Borana despite their distinct livelihood. During the early colonial period, the Waata generally identified themselves in population censuses by their name and were recognized as a separate subgroup of the Oromo. During the British administration, when the game reserves in Marsabit District were incorporated into a national reserve in 1948 (Kassam 2000), the Waata did not wish to be recognized by government authorities as hunters. To conceal their real identity, they, therefore, qualified themselves by the names of the pastoral groups with whom they interacted. As a result, in postcolonial Kenya, the Waata are not officially recognized as one of the nation’s ethnic groups.

As the Waata do not exist formally for the administration, they are forced to identify themselves as either Borana or Gabra when registering for national identity cards in Kenya. More importantly, they cannot obtain their political representation at the national level. As they still struggle for official recognition within the Kenyan government, their traditional livelihood is nearly extinct. While some retain Waaqeffannaa, many adopted Islam or Christianity, contributing to their identity crisis within the Oromo framework even further. The Waata, being one of the least studied and significantly marginalized Oromo groups in northern Kenya, have an obscure history. This has led Somali scholars and researchers to misrepresent the Waata’s history, falsely asserting that their origins lie within various Somali clans rather than among the Oromo, despite their cultural practices and exclusive use of the Oromo language as their primary means of communication, contradicting these claims of Somali descent. Therefore, Oromo scholars and researchers must focus on these academically overlooked Waata Oromo communities and work towards their reintegration into the broader Oromo society.

The Garri (Garre) Oromo

The Garri present one of the most complex cases of contested identity in the Horn of Africa. Although most Garri speak a dialect of Afaan Oromo, often influenced by Somali vocabulary, they overwhelmingly identify themselves as Somali or Oromo. This apparent contradiction reflects the historically fluid identities characteristic of pastoral communities living along the Oromo–Somali frontier. Scholars have long noted that the Garri share significant linguistic, cultural, and historical interactions with neighboring Oromo groups, particularly the Borana and Gabra, making it difficult to categorize their ethnic origin within rigid ethnic boundaries (Schlee 1989; Kassa 1996).

A few scholars trace the Garri’s genealogical origin to Somali clan formations associated with migrations from the Ogaden region, particularly groups related to the Degodia and Marehan lineages, which later settled in areas historically inhabited by Borana pastoralists (Kassa 1983). Through prolonged coexistence with Borana communities, the Garri gradually adopted Afaan Oromo and elements of Borana pastoral culture while maintaining Somali clan genealogies and Islamic religious traditions (Schlee 1989). This long history of interaction placed the Garri within a frontier zone where Oromo and Somali cultural influences overlapped, making their ethnic categorization highly contested, according to these scholars. Borana oral traditions, however, provide a different narrative emphasizing historical kinship ties between the two communities. Borana elders frequently recount genealogical connections linking prominent Garri families to Borana lineages. For example, Liban Jatani, a Borana elder, narrates that Abdi Mamo Saralle’s mother, a well-known Garri warrior, was Borana. Similarly, the family of Haji Hassan Gababa, an influential traditional Garri leader, traces its ancestry to Borana. The family of Abdi Mamad Buko Sarkama, commonly known as "Bukos" and among the wealthiest Garri families in northern Kenya today, is also believed, according to Borana oral narratives, to have Borana lineage.^[16] Such accounts are often cited by Borana elders to argue that although the Garri today identify as Somali, they historically maintained Oromo kinship ties before gradually assimilating into Somali identity.^[17] Beyond genealogical debates, the Garri case also demonstrates how ethnic identity in frontier regions is frequently shaped by political circumstances rather than fixed primordial origins.

The Garri have historically lived near Oromo pastoralists, particularly the Borana, and most speak Afaan Oromo widely. As a result, their ethnic identification has often been situational and politically negotiated. This flexibility became particularly visible during Ethiopia’s political transition in the early 1990s following the collapse of the Derg regime. During this period, some Garri political leaders aligned themselves with Oromo nationalist movements, such as the Oromo Liberation Front (OLF), and fought together under the Oromo “Abbo” Liberation Front (OALF) and participated in organizations associated with Oromo political parties to gain representation in the newly formed Transitional Government of Ethiopia (Kassa 2002; Kefale 2010). Leaders from Garri backgrounds participated in the transitional political process as representatives of an Oromo constituency. However, this political alignment proved short-lived. As Ethiopia’s linguistic federal system consolidated and the Somali Regional State was formally established, Garri elites gradually shifted their political alignment by emphasizing their Somali genealogy and integrating into the Somali Regional State’s political structures (Kefale 2010). This shift illustrates that Garri identity has historically been shaped less by immutable ethnic origins and more by changing political opportunities, regional alliances, and access to power within evolving state structures.

The historical relationship between the Garri and the Borana further complicates the identity question. According to historical accounts, during the expansion of the Ethiopian empire under Emperor Menelik in the late nineteenth century, groups identified as Garri entered Borana territories partly as refugees fleeing broader Ethiopian–Somali frontier conflicts (Kassa 1983). The Borana initially permitted these groups to use grazing lands within their territory under customary pastoral arrangements. Over time, however, demographic expansion and increasing competition over grazing land and water gradually intensified tensions between the two communities. These tensions escalated further during the era of Somali irredentism in the 1960s and 1970s, when the Somali government promoted the ideology of “Greater Somalia,” which sought to incorporate territories inhabited by Somalis across the Horn of Africa. The Somali government also called the Oromo communities of Hararghe, Bale, Arsi, and southern Oromo Somali-Abo and declared war to incorporate them into the so-called Greater Somalia. In this context, Garri political elites increasingly emphasized Somali identity to align with Somali nationalist politics and gain military and political support (Schlee 1989).

The situation intensified under Ethiopia’s EPRDF or Tigrayan-led regime, where the Tigrayan-led government actively supported the Garri^[18] through the Somali Regional State administration as part of a broader strategy to weaken the Oromo’s political power. This support manifested in the creation of the controversial Liban Zone in 2008, which redrew administrative boundaries to incorporate Borana’s historically lands into the Somali Region and the arming of Garri militias by the notorious Liyu Police paramilitary force. This decision was justified on demographic grounds but strongly opposed by Borana leaders, who viewed it as a political act that undermined their customary rights to critical pastoral resources (Kefale 2010). As Kefale (2010, 624) argues, the federal government’s boundary decisions in the 1990s effectively transformed long-standing inter-clan resource disputes into inter-regional political conflicts, thereby reinforcing ethnic polarization. The transfer of two of the nine prominent Borana permanent water wells (tulaa), El Gof and El Leh, to the Somali regional administration was perceived by Borana elders as a profound injustice because these wells had historically formed part of the Borana pastoral water system.

The Garri case, therefore, illustrates that identities in the Oromo–Somali frontier cannot be understood solely through rigid ethnic categories. Linguistic assimilation, intermarriage, pastoral alliances, and shifting political alliances have historically blurred ethnic boundaries between communities in this region. Consequently, it is difficult to classify the Garri as purely Oromo or purely Somali. Rather, they represent a frontier pastoral society shaped by long processes of cultural interaction and political negotiation between the Oromo and Somali worlds. Understanding this historical hybridity is crucial for explaining both the contested narratives surrounding Garri identity and the recurring conflicts that continue to shape relations between Garri and Borana pastoral communities. Overall, we argue that the Garri are an integral part of the Oromo nation who, for economic and political reasons, play an opportunistic game for survival.

Discussion and Conclusion

The Oromo of southern Oromia and northern Kenya, encompassing subgroups such as the Borana, Guji, Gabra, Orma, Sakuye, Waata, Wardeh, and Garri, represent a profound historical and cultural legacy that underscores their enduring significance within the Horn of Africa’s socio-political landscape. Before the disruptive interventions of the Abyssinian and British colonial regimes, the Oromo thrived as a formidable and cohesive national community, characterized by a powerful movement across the region and sustained by adherence to the Gadaa system. This democratic socio-political institution ensured equitable governance and resource management. This system, alongside their monotheistic Waaqeffannaa belief system, fostered harmonious coexistence among various Oromo subgroups and neighboring pastoralist communities.

The Oromo’s pre-colonial unity was marked by fluid mobility across the Horn, enabling sustainable pastoralist livelihoods through shared access to grazing lands and water. However, the late 19th-century colonial expansion of the Oromo with the support of European imperialism violently incorporated the Oromo, in general, and the southern Oromo, in particular, into the Ethiopian colonial Empire, resulting in systematic social, political, and economic marginalization. Menelik’s conquests dispossessed the Oromo of their lands, imposed Amhara-centric governance, and extracted resources like livestock to finance imperial ambitions, severely disrupting their indigenous systems. Simultaneously, British colonial policies in Kenya, formalized through the 1907 Anglo-Ethiopian Treaty, restricted Oromo mobility, forcing southern Oromo groups, such as the Borana and Gabra, to settle in northern Kenya. These colonial borders not only severed trans-border connections but also intensified competition over scarce resources, leading to violent conflicts with other pastoralist communities, a consequence that was attributed to colonial “divide and rule” tactics.

The colonial disruptions fundamentally altered the socio-political fabric of the Oromo in both regions. In southern Oromia, the Abyssinian regime dismantled the authority of the Gadaa system, while in northern Kenya, British policies marginalized Oromo groups by prioritizing settled agriculture and favoring Somali elites, effectively isolating clans such as the Borana, Gabra, Orma, Sakuye, Waata, and Wardeh from their southern Oromian origins. Despite prolonged political and social marginalization in both Ethiopia and Kenya, the Oromo have demonstrated remarkable resilience in preserving their identity, raising critical sociological questions: What enables their survival and cultural continuity in the face of such adversity? What elements sustain their endurance, and how have they managed this over generations? Their survival is underpinned by the enduring strength of the Gadaa system, which – whether overtly (in Oromia) or covertly (in Kenya) – continues to provide a framework for social cohesion and conflict resolution. Likewise, their linguistic continuity through Afaan Oromoo reinforces a collective Oromo national identity across borders.

Additionally, communal values rooted in mutual support (for example, the Oromo tradition of helping clan members in need, such as the redistribution of cattle through “buusaa gonofaa”) and shared cultural practices have enabled them to adapt to external pressures while maintaining their heritage. In northern Kenya, the formation of hybrid institutions such as the Borana–Gabra Peace Committee demonstrates how customary law has been leveraged to mitigate conflict even when state mechanisms fail. In Ethiopia’s south, the revival of Oromo cultural ceremonies since 1991 (such as the Irreecha festival) indicates a resilient cultural revival that binds Oromo communities together. However, these Oromo communities face ongoing challenges that differ by region. In Ethiopia, under the so-called federalism framework, Oromo subgroups such as the Borana and Guji lack nominal autonomy; they grapple with structural exclusion and socio-economic vulnerabilities. Resource-based conflicts persist – e.g., between Borana and Somali or between Guji and Gedeo – often exacerbated by federal or regional policies that have struggled to accommodate pastoralist needs. The Ethiopian state’s approach to pastoral regions has often been security-centric, viewing them through a lens of suspicion (allegedly for supporting the OLF rather than development partners, which has led to cycles of protest and crackdown.

Meanwhile, in Kenya, after independence the government perpetuated marginalization: Oromo groups such as the Orma, Sakuye, and Wardei have long struggled for recognition and administrative representation. Their history remains poorly documented due to a lack of accurate census data, making it challenging to estimate their numbers or advocate for their rights in a system where political power often correlates with population figures. This academic and governmental neglect allowed Somali historians and politicians to distort Oromo history in Kenya, falsely claiming groups like the Gabra and Wardei as part of a larger Somali identity system despite clear evidence of their Oromo origins. Foreign scholars, such as Schlee (1989), have been misled by these narratives, which document the Gabra as being of Somali origin. This claim has been rigorously challenged by Kassam and Gemetchu Megerssa (1993), illustrating the consequences of this scholarly oversight. Oromo literature has similarly marginalized these northern Kenyan communities, with most studies focusing on central and southern Oromo, particularly the Borana, leaving a significant gap that has enabled competing narratives to flourish.

The historical oversight of northern Kenyan Oromo by Oromo scholars underscores the urgent need for renewed academic focus. This need was poignantly addressed at the Oromo Studies Association (OSA) mid-year conference, held in Nairobi, Kenya, in March 2025—the first such event in the region. Under the theme "Fostering Indigenous Knowledge to Build Capacity for Social and Environmental Harmony in the Horn of Africa," the conference brought together Oromo and international scholars to celebrate the richness of Oromo culture and indigenous knowledge, as articulated by OSA President Fantahun Dhiba. Dhiba emphasized the objective of fostering mutual growth and solidarity with Kenyan Oromo communities, a sentiment echoed by Ali Wario, a former Kenyan parliamentarian from the Orma community in Tana River. Wario, who presented a paper at the conference, highlighted his 40-year struggle to reconnect the Orma with their broader Oromo kin, lamenting the historical neglect by Oromo scholars that excluded the Orma from Oromo narratives. He criticized the prominent Eritrean Anthropologist Asmarom Legesse for neglecting the Oromo in his influential Oromo Gadaa studies, particularly citing Legesse’s assertion that “the end of Oromo in Kenya is Isiolo,” which effectively erased the Tana River Oromo from the Oromo historical map.^[19] Wario called for greater recognition of the Oromo’s rich cultural heritage and their inclusion in Oromo academia, advocating for the use of platforms like OSA to promote the history, economy, culture, education, and politics of these historically neglected groups.

The resilience of the Oromo in both Ethiopia and Kenya – despite centuries of colonial adversity – highlights their enduring cultural and political significance in the Horn of Africa. The developments around the 2025 OSA conference mark a commendable step toward closing the academic gap, fostering unity, and strengthening the Oromo’s collective identity and political voice across the region. By compiling oral histories, conducting cross-border comparative studies, and centering these often-overlooked communities in Oromo scholarship, researchers can illuminate the full scope of the Oromo experience and counter external distortions. This endeavor will contribute to broader sociological discussions on the political economy of identity, resource competition, and conflict in Africa. Furthermore, addressing the governance and development challenges facing these Oromo subgroups requires coordinated efforts on multiple fronts. Policy changes are needed to rectify historical injustices, ensure equitable resource distribution, and guarantee genuine democracy and participation. The hope is that, moving forward, the powerful legacy of the Oromo – a legacy of democracy (Gadaa), peace-making, and adaptation – can shape a more equitable and inclusive future in the Horn of Africa, where Oromo voices and histories (from both Ethiopia and Kenya) are integral to regional narratives of resilience and solidarity.