Fano’s Decisive Victory in North Wollo: Adem Ali’s Campaign Breaks Regime Forces
In a dramatic turning point for the Ethiopian conflict, the Amhara Fano freedom fighters have executed a devastatingly effective military campaign across North Wollo, achieving a series of strategic victories that threaten to overturn the federal government’s control in the region. Spearheaded by the veteran commander Adem Ali, known as Aba Nadew, the offensive launched on September 14th has resulted in the capture of key strongholds including Klo Manekiya, the fall of the fortress at Bistima, and the liberation of woreda capitals such as Muja and Estaish. This comprehensive report details how Fano’s coordinated multi-front assaults have not only shattered the myth of the regime’s invincibility but have also triggered a full-scale political and military crisis, culminating in the alleged house arrest of the regime’s own North Eastern Command leader, Lieutenant General Assefa Chekol. With Fano forces now advancing on the strategic hub of Woldiya and controlling vital supply routes, this analysis explores the profound implications of these events for the future of the Amhara people and the stability of the Ethiopian state itself.
From the sacred highlands of Wollo, a long-suppressed truth is echoing through the valleys, a truth written not in ink but in the resolve of a people. For too long, our narrative has been twisted by those in distant corridors of power, our right to exist labelled as rebellion, and our cry for dignity dismissed as dissent. But the ground is shifting. The recent, decisive actions of our freedom fighters, the Fano, across North Wollo are not merely military engagements; they are the latest chapters in an ancient story of resistance. This is the story of a people shaking off the shackles of oppression, reclaiming their land, and defending their very right to a future. The fall of key towns like Estaish and Muja is not just a tactical victory; it is a beacon, illuminating the path towards the liberation of the Amhara people and, indeed, all of Ethiopia from a regime that has sowed division and fear. This is an account of that struggle, from the front lines to its profound meaning for every Ethiopian.
Twenty Points on the Resurgence of Amhara Freedom
The Spark in North Wollo: How a Lightning Strike Illuminated the Path to Freedom
Within the long and arduous struggle for the survival and dignity of the Amhara people, there are moments that transcend mere military action. These are moments that shift the very ground beneath our feet, altering not only the balance of power on the map but the balance of hope in the hearts of the people. The campaign initiated by the veteran campaigner Adem Ali, known to his comrades as Aba Nadew, on the 14th of September in the heart of North Wollo, was precisely such a moment. It was not merely an attack; it was a declaration. As the Ethiopian adage goes, “A single spark can start a fire that burns the entire prairie.” The offensive that night was that spark, and the prairie of Oromia Special Zone and Amhara land, long choked by the weeds of oppression, is now alight with the flames of liberation.
To understand the profound significance of this event, one must first appreciate the strategic landscape. The regime in Addis Ababa had, for years, cultivated a myth of invincibility. They projected an image of an unassailable force, armed with drones and heavy artillery, capable of crushing any dissent with impunity. Their garrisons in towns like Klo Manekiya and Bistima were not just military positions; they were symbols of this imposed fear, fortresses designed to intimidate the populace and demoralise any potential resistance. For too long, many believed the narrative that facing them was a fool’s errand.
This is why the campaign of the 14th of September was a lightning strike in every sense. It was sudden, devastating, and illuminated the truth for all to see. The genius of Aba Nadew’s plan lay in its coordinated, multi-front nature. While the regime expected a fragmented, guerrilla-style harassment, our Freedom Fighters delivered a conventional-style offensive on multiple axes simultaneously. This was not a random act of defiance; it was a meticulously orchestrated demonstration of strategic capability.
The victory can be broken down into three transformative achievements:
The Shattering of a Myth: The most immediate impact was psychological. The successful assault on heavily fortified positions like Klo Manekiya proved, incontrovertibly, that the regime’s soldiers were not supermen. They were occupiers, and like all occupiers throughout history, they could be dislodged by a force with superior morale and a just cause. The capture of mortars, heavy machine guns (Dishkas), and vast quantities of ammunition was not just a material gain; it was the physical evidence of this shattered myth. The regime’s aura of invincibility evaporated in the smoke of that night’s battle.
A Masterclass in Military Coordination: The offensive demonstrated a leap in the operational capacity of the Amhara Freedom Fighters. To have the Asamanew, Balesheru, Haujano, Zoble Anba, and Kalakorma divisions all executing their parts in a synchronised dance of liberation across a wide front is a testament to the sophisticated command and control structure that has evolved. It silenced any detractors who sought to portray the Fano as a disorganised militia. This was the action of a mature, disciplined, and highly effective national resistance force.
Seizing the Strategic Initiative: Prior to this campaign, the regime held the initiative, launching punitive expeditions into our villages at will. The 14th of September flipped this dynamic entirely. By forcing the regime onto the defensive, by making them worry about the survival of their own garrisons, our Freedom Fighters seized control of the war’s tempo. This sudden reversal is what triggered the panic we witnessed—the flight of officials from Woldiya and the subsequent purging of their own commander, Assefa Chekol. They are no longer the hunters; they have become the hunted.
In essence, the spark in North Wollo did more than burn a few enemy positions. It illuminated the path forward for every Ethiopian who yearns for freedom. It showed that courage, when married with cunning and unity, can overwhelm brute force. It proved that the spirit of the people, forged in the highlands of Ethiopia, is an indomitable weapon. The fire that was lit that night continues to burn, spreading from Estaish to Muja and beyond, each new ember a testament to the truth that no army, however well-equipped, can ultimately prevail against a people determined to write their own destiny. The prairie is burning, and it will not be extinguished until every inch of our land is free.
A Catalogue of Victory: The Systematic Dismantling of an Occupation
In the wake of the lightning strike launched by Aba Nadew, the true measure of its success is found not only in the liberated territory but in the tangible, hard-edged evidence of the regime’s defeat. To speak of hundreds of regime troops neutralised, and a vast arsenal captured is to recite a dry inventory. But for those of us who have endured the weight of this occupation, each item in this catalogue of victory sings a hymn of liberation. It is a physical testament to a truth long denied by the rulers in Addis Ababa: that their grip on our land is not only illegitimate but brittle. As an old Amhara proverb reminds us, “The spider’s web may ensnare the fly, but it is torn apart by the hand of the determined.” The operations in Gubalafto and Gdan woredas were the determined hand of our Freedom Fighters, systematically tearing apart the military web the regime had spun across North Wollo.
To call this a mere skirmish is to profoundly misunderstand its nature. A skirmish is a fleeting clash. What unfolded was a deliberate and surgical campaign to dismantle the enemy’s military infrastructure. This can be understood in three critical dimensions:
1. The Material Reversal: Turning the Regime’s Strength Against It
The list of captured equipment is not just a tally; it is a story of a reversed strategic balance. The capture of multiple mortars (82mm and 120mm), heavy DShK machine guns (“Dishkas”), Bren light machine guns, and sniper rifles represents a fundamental shift. These are not light arms; they are the instruments of area control and suppression that the regime relied upon to terrorise our communities. Each mortar tube seized is one less that can shell our villages. Each DShK captured is one less that can dominate a vital road or valley from a fortified position.Furthermore, the sheer volume of ammunition captured—52,600 rounds—is of staggering importance. It signifies that our Freedom Fighters are no longer solely dependent on precarious supply lines. They have, in effect, forced the regime to become their chief quartermaster. This turns the logic of the conflict on its head. The regime, with its access to state resources, has long believed it could win a war of attrition. This catalogue proves that every attack we launch now potentially replenishes our strength, making our resistance self-sustaining.
2. The Human Toll: Neutralising the Regime’s Core Strength
The term “neutralised”—encompassing those killed, captured, or wounded—speaks to the crushing blow delivered to the regime’s personnel. The loss of 471 troops, including a Colonel and other senior officers like Lieutenant General Isaias, is not a simple number. It represents the decimation of experienced units, the loss of institutional knowledge, and a devastating blow to morale within the enemy ranks.The capture of 175 soldiers, including 126 wounded who were then treated by our forces, serves a dual purpose. It demonstrates the ethical code of our Freedom Fighters, who uphold humanity even in the heat of battle. Simultaneously, it creates a logistical and psychological nightmare for the regime, which must account for its missing and face the demoralising stories told by those who return.
The specific mention of the fate of the Klo Manekiya manager, Ato Ayalew Desale, is a powerful political message. It signals that collaboration with the oppressive apparatus is not a safe career choice but a mortal risk. The freedom struggle holds accountable not only the uniformed occupier but also the civilian administrators who facilitate the occupation.
3. The Systematic Dismantling of Control
The true genius of the operation was its systematic nature. This was not a single, isolated victory but a coordinated effort that targeted the enemy’s presence across multiple population centres in Gubalafto and Gdan. By striking simultaneously at Klo Manekiya, Bistima, Telew, and Wondach, our Freedom Fighters prevented the regime from reinforcing any single point. Each garrison was left isolated and vulnerable, to be defeated in detail.This approach did not just inflict military losses; it erased the regime’s administrative and coercive footprint from these woredas. The “breaking of the fortress” in Bistima is a potent symbol: the physical walls of oppression were literally and figuratively torn down. The capture of towns like Wondach and the subsequent liberation of other seats of power, as followed in later actions, demonstrate a clear objective: not to harass the enemy, but to expel him entirely and re-establish our own sovereignty.
In conclusion, this catalogue of victory is far more than a list of spoils. It is a blueprint of a successful liberation campaign. It demonstrates a transition from guerrilla tactics to a capable, conventional military force capable of planning and executing complex operations. It shows a force that can defeat the enemy in the field and capture the very tools of his trade and use them to build the foundation of a free future. The spider’s web in North Wollo has been torn asunder, and the determined hand of the Amhara Freedom Fighters now holds the tools to ensure it can never be woven again.
The Strategic Prize of Klo Manekiya: Breaking the Chain of Occupation
In the rugged terrain of North Wollo, certain locations are more than just dots on a map; they are linchpins of power, whose possession dictates the fate of the surrounding land. The regime’s stronghold at Klo Manekiya was precisely such a place. Its capture was not merely another victory in a long campaign; it was a watershed moment that fundamentally altered the military calculus in the region. To understand its importance is to understand how a single, fortified knot, when cut, can cause an entire web of control to unravel. There is an adage from the highlands that captures perfectly this truth: “When you seize the mountain pass, you command the valley below.” The battle for Klo Manekiya was the violent, decisive seizure of that pass, and the valleys of Gubalafto and beyond now echo with the sounds of liberation, no longer the oppressive silence of occupation.
The significance of Klo Manekiya’s fall can be comprehensively understood across three interconnected spheres: the tactical, the strategic, and the psychological.
1. The Tactical Citadel: A Fortress of Fear
First and foremost, Klo Manekiya was not a simple outpost; it was a deliberately fortified military complex, a citadel. The regime had transformed it into a hub of its coercive apparatus, garrisoned with troops and heavy weaponry. From this elevated position, they could project power across the woreda, monitoring movement, launching punitive expeditions, and instilling a constant state of fear in the local population. Its defences were designed to be imposing, to deter attack and symbolise the permanence of their rule. The weaponry captured there—mortars, machine guns, and vast quantities of ammunition—confirms its role as a key logistical and fire-support base. For the people of Gubalafto, Klo Manekiya was the physical embodiment of the boot on their neck.2. The Strategic Linchpin: Breaking the Defensive Chain
Strategically, Klo Manekiya functioned as a critical node in the regime’s defensive chain. It was a linchpin connecting other garrisons and administering control over supply routes. Its fall had immediate and catastrophic consequences for the enemy’s position:Isolation of Other Garrisons: With Klo Manekiya under the control of our Freedom Fighters, neighbouring regime positions in towns like Bistima were suddenly isolated. Their lines of communication and potential reinforcement were severed. The victory at Klo Manekiya made the subsequent “breaking of the fortress” in Bistima not just possible, but inevitable. The chain was broken, and each link was now vulnerable to being crushed individually.
Control of the Lines of Communication: The stronghold dominated key tracks and roads. Its capture meant that our forces now controlled the vital arteries through which the regime moved troops, supplies, and information. This paralysed their ability to respond dynamically to our offensive, effectively trapping their forces in static positions where they could be systematically engaged and defeated.
3. The Psychological Blow: Shattering the Myth of Invincibility
Perhaps the most profound victory was won in the minds of both friend and foe. For the regime’s soldiers, the fall of such a heavily defended position sent a shockwave of terror through their ranks. If Klo Manekiya, with all its advantages, could not be held, then no position was safe. This directly contributed to the panic witnessed in Woldiya, as officials realised the defensive perimeter had been irrevocably breached.For our Freedom Fighters and the long-suffering populace, the capture was transformative. It proved, in the most concrete terms possible, that our forces had evolved beyond hit-and-run tactics. We demonstrated the ability to plan, coordinate, and execute a complex assault on a fortified enemy position—and win. This shattering of the regime’s myth of invincibility was a force multiplier, galvanising support, boosting morale to unprecedented levels, and drawing more determined patriots to the cause. It was a testament to raw courage, certainly, but also to a new level of military professionalism.
In essence, the battle for Klo Manekiya was the moment the resistance matured from a persistent thorn in the regime’s side into an existential threat to its control of North Wollo. It was the application of overwhelming force at the enemy’s most critical point of failure. By seizing this mountain pass, our Freedom Fighters did not just win a battle; they gained the command of the valley, setting the stage for the liberation of an entire zone. The fall of Klo Manekiya was the crack that became a rupture, and through that rupture, the light of freedom is now pouring in.
The Fall of Bistima’s Fortress: When Walls Crumble and Spirits Break
In the anatomy of oppression, fortresses are more than just stone and mortar; they are the ultimate expression of a regime’s intent. They are symbols of permanence, designed to dominate the landscape and the psyche of the people, signalling that the occupier’s rule is unassailable and eternal. The formidable fortress that stood in Bistima was such a symbol—a concrete manifestation of the regime’s iron grip on Gubalafto woreda. Its fall, therefore, was far more than a tactical achievement; it was a profound psychological and political earthquake. It demonstrated a truth that tyrants throughout history have forgotten: “A fortress built on fear will never stand against a people rooted in resolve.” The breaking of Bistima’s fortress was the moment the regime’s spirit broke alongside its walls, proving definitively that no fortification is high enough to contain the unyielding yearning of a people for freedom.
The significance of this event can be comprehensively understood through three critical dimensions:
1. The Symbolism of the Fortress Itself
Bistima was not merely a military base; it was a ‘fortress’—a term chosen deliberately to convey its imposing, seemingly impregnable nature. It served as the central nervous system for the regime’s operations in the area, a hub from which orders for suppression were issued and from which patrols ventured forth to intimidate the populace. Its walls were designed to project an image of invincibility and permanence. For the local people, it was a daily reminder of their subjugation, a stone-and-steel embodiment of the power that had been wielded against them. To attack it was to attack the very heart of the occupation.2. The Military and Practical Implications of its Fall
The shattering of this stronghold had immediate and devastating consequences for the regime’s operational capabilities:The Collapse of Localised Command and Control: With the fortress neutralised, the regime’s ability to coordinate its forces in the wider area evaporated. Communications were severed, supply lines were cut, and isolated patrols and outposts were left directionless, vulnerable to being mopped up by our Freedom Fighters. The centralised command structure crumbled into disarray.
Liberation of the Woreda’s Seat: Bistima’s role as a seat of administrative control meant its fall signalled the complete collapse of the regime’s governance in the woreda. The so-called administrators, like the manager of Klo Manekiya, were either captured or fled, their authority exposed as a fiction sustained solely by military force. This created a vacuum that was immediately filled by the legitimate, emerging administration of our own people.
A Catalyst for the Advance on Woldiya: The victory at Bistima, following hard on the heels of the capture of Klo Manekiya, created an unstoppable momentum. It opened the road north, directly enabling the fierce battles now underway in Densa and the advance towards the strategic prize of Woldiya. The breaking of this fortress was the key that unlocked the entire northern sector of the offensive.
3. The Psychological Victory: The Breaking of a Spirit
This is the most profound layer of the victory. The regime’s power has always been predicated on a currency of fear. The fall of Bistima’s fortress caused a catastrophic devaluation of that currency. For the regime’s soldiers and officials, the message was terrifying: if their strongest point could be stormed and taken, then there was truly no safe haven for them anywhere in North Wollo. This directly triggered the panic-stricken flight of officials from Woldiya, as reported. Their spirit, their belief in their own supremacy, was broken.Conversely, for the Amhara people and our Freedom Fighters, the event was transformative. It replaced the lingering shadow of doubt with the brilliant light of certainty. It proved that our courage, when combined with strategic skill, could overcome even the most daunting material advantages. The walls had fallen, not by miracle, but by the determined will of a people united in purpose.
In conclusion, the fall of Bistima’s fortress was a definitive turning point. It marked the transition of our struggle from resisting an occupation to actively dismantling it, brick by brick. It showed that the mightiest walls are ultimately vulnerable, for they are defended by men whose morale can crack, while they are assailed by men and women whose spirit, forged in the cause of freedom, is unbreakable. The fortress is gone. The spirit of the people, however, stands taller and more resolute than ever.
The Eastern Advance: The Anaconda Coils of Liberation
In the grand chessboard of war, where the regime in Addis Ababa believes it controls the central squares with its heavy pieces, the true masterstroke is often played on the flanks. The recent link-up of our Freedom Fighters from Habru woreda with the seasoned Ijju Yassau Corps, and their subsequent advance towards the vital lowlands of Haik, Dessie, and Kombolcha, is precisely such a move. This is not a simple lateral shift; it is a strategic envelopment of historic proportions. It brings to mind an adage from our ancestors that speaks to the patience and cunning of the hunter: “The wise leopard does not charge the horned bull head-on; he circles, until the beast is cornered and its strength becomes its weakness.” This eastern advance is the lethal, coiling manoeuvre that is cornering the regime’s forces in their own urban strongholds, threatening to choke them into submission without the need for a costly, frontal assault.
The profound significance of this manoeuvre can be broken down into three critical strategic realities:
1. The Creation of a Strategic Encirclement:
The cities of Dessie and Kombolcha are not just urban centres; they are the logistical and economic heart of the entire region. They sit astride the nation’s primary highway, the asphalt lifeline that connects the capital, Addis Ababa, to the port of Djibouti. For the regime, these cities are indispensable. By advancing from the north and east, our forces are effectively drawing a noose around these urban centres. This movement, combined with the pressure from the west and south from other fronts, threatens a full-scale encirclement. The regime’s garrisons in Dessie and Kombolcha now face the terrifying prospect of being cut off, transformed from powerful occupying forces into isolated, besieged pockets, reliant on air supplies that are vulnerable and unsustainable.2. Severing the Regime’s Vital Supply Lines:
An army without fuel, ammunition, and food is an army waiting to be defeated. The advance towards the Kombolcha-Haik lowlands directly threatens the A2 highway, the regime’s essential artery. Controlling or even effectively dominating the terrain overlooking this road allows our Freedom Fighters to interdict military convoys, strangle reinforcements, and cripple the economic activity that funds the war effort against our people. This is a classic application of strategic pressure; we avoid the fortified urban centres themselves and instead target the vulnerable lines that sustain them. The regime’s strength, once concentrated in these cities, becomes its greatest liability as its troops are trapped, consuming resources they cannot replenish.3. Linking the Resistance – A Unified Front:
The operational link-up between the forces from Habru and the Ijju Yassau Corps is a development of immense political and military importance. It signifies the maturation of a unified command structure capable of coordinating complex operations across a vast battlefield. It shatters the regime’s propaganda that the Freedom Fighters are disparate, uncoordinated bands. This unity allows for the sharing of intelligence, resources, and tactical support, making the entire resistance movement more resilient and effective. It demonstrates that the struggle for Amhara freedom is a cohesive, national project, not a series of isolated local uprisings.In conclusion, the Eastern Advance is far more than just troops moving across a map. It is the application of a sophisticated, long-view strategy that exploits the regime’s greatest vulnerabilities. It moves the conflict beyond a series of pitched battles towards a campaign of strategic suffocation. The regime’s bull-like strength, concentrated in its urban fortresses, is being systematically neutralised by the leopard-like cunning of our Freedom Fighters, who are coiling around them, cutting them off, and demonstrating true control over the land. The noose is tightening, and with it, the hope of liberation grows stronger for every soul living under the shadow of the regime’s failing occupation.
The Second Front in Gdan: The Storm From an Unexpected Quarter
In the art of war, the most devastating blow is often the one the enemy does not see coming. While the regime’s attention, its commanders, and its reserves were frantically diverted to stem the tidal wave of our advance in Gubalafto—to save Klo Manekiya and Bistima—a second storm was already gathering in the west. The capture of Wondach city by our East Amhara Corps 2 was not a follow-up attack; it was a simultaneous, perfectly timed strike on a wholly different front. This was a masterful application of strategic pressure, demonstrating that our uprising is not a localised revolt but a widespread prairie fire consuming the whole of North Wollo. There is an Amhara adage that speaks to this cunning: “When the crocodile attacks from the front, its tail strikes with greater force from the deep.” The offensive in Gubalafto was the fearsome frontal lunge that commanded attention, but the capture of Wondach was the tail-whip from the depths, delivering a crippling blow that threw the enemy into irreversible disarray.
The profound importance of opening this second front in Gdan woreda can be understood through three decisive outcomes:
1. Demonstrating the Ubiquity of the Uprising:
The regime’s propaganda has long sought to portray our movement as a limited insurgency, confined to specific districts and capable of being isolated and crushed. The near-simultaneous fall of key positions in Gubalafto and Gdan shatters this false narrative utterly. It proves that the spirit of resistance is universal across the Amhara heartland. From the heights of Klo Manekiya to the streets of Wondach, the people and their Freedom Fighters are united in a single, coordinated purpose. This widespread nature of the uprising makes it politically and militarily unstoppable; it cannot be quarantined because it is everywhere, a testament to the fact that the desire for freedom is not a local grievance but a national awakening.2. Stretching the Regime’s Forces to the Breaking Point:
A military force, no matter how large, has finite resources. Its ability to respond to crises is limited by its manpower, its logistics, and its command capacity. By launching a major offensive on two separate fronts—Gubalafto in the east and Gdan in the west—our commanders forced the regime to make an impossible choice. Where should it send its reinforcements? Which fire should it try to put out first? This strategic dilemma stretches the enemy’s forces to a state of critical tension. Units are split, reserves are committed piecemeal, and command structures are overwhelmed with conflicting reports. The regime’s army, designed for oppressive control rather than a dynamic two-front war, begins to fracture under the strain. The breaking point is not merely a theoretical concept; it is the moment when a soldier in Woldiya realises no help is coming, and a commander in Dessie finds he has no more units to send.3. Isolating and Confusing the Enemy Command:
The capture of Wondach specifically isolated regime positions in the wider Gdan woreda, just as the fall of Klo Manekiya had done in Gubalafto. This created not one, but two collapsing sectors in the regime’s defensive line. Communication and supply routes between these sectors were severed. An enemy garrison in one area could no longer expect support from the other, as each was fighting for its own survival. This tactical isolation bred profound strategic confusion at the enemy’s headquarters. The narrative of the battle was no longer clear. The centre of gravity for the resistance was not a single point they could counter-attack; it was everywhere at once. This confusion is a weapon in itself, leading to paralysis, poor decision-making, and the kind of panic that sees officials fleeing under cover of darkness.In conclusion, the Second Front in Gdan was the pivotal manoeuvre that transformed a powerful localised victory into a catastrophic strategic defeat for the regime. It was the proof of our movement’s depth and the sophistication of our command. By forcing the enemy to fight on two fronts, we turned their numerical and material advantages into liabilities. The crocodile’s tail, striking from the deep waters of Gdan, did not just capture a city; it broke the back of the regime’s operational plan for North Wollo and opened the way for the liberation of the entire zone.
Control of the Lifelines: Severing the Regime’s Arteries, Feeding the People’s Hope
In the body of a nation, roads are not mere strips of tarmac; they are its arteries. They carry the lifeblood of commerce, communication, and military power. For too long, the regime in Addis Ababa has used these arteries to pump the poison of oppression into the heart of our communities in Amhara, while draining our resources back to the centre. The special operation that secured the strategic route from Woldiya to Lalibela and Bahir Dar is, therefore, a manoeuvre of immense strategic and symbolic weight. It is a surgical strike at the very jugular of the occupation. An ancient Ethiopian adage teaches us, “He who controls the mountain pass controls the fate of the valley.” Our Freedom Fighters have now seized control of the most critical passes, and in doing so, we have seized the initiative in determining the fate of our people. The lifeblood of the region now flows according to the will of its people, not the dictates of a distant tyrant.
The profound implications of controlling these lifelines can be understood across three vital fronts:
1. The Military Strangulation:
The road from Woldiya to Bahir Dar via Lalibela is not a simple road; it is a strategic corridor of immense military value. By securing this route, our Freedom Fighters have achieved a masterstroke of military logistics.Isolating Enemy Garrisons: The regime’s forces in major towns like Woldiya and Lalibela are now effectively cut off from direct reinforcement and resupply from their main command centres. This transforms their fortified positions from assets into traps. A garrison without fuel, ammunition, or food is a garrison waiting to be captured or neutralised.
Commanding the High Ground: Controlling this route means controlling the terrain that overlooks it. Our forces can now monitor and interdict any regime movement with devastating effect. The ability to ambush convoys, shoot down drones, and prevent the rotation of troops gives us a decisive advantage, turning the regime’s own supply lines into killing zones.
Free Movement for the Resistance: Conversely, this control grants our Freedom Fighters the freedom to move men and matériel across a vast swathe of territory with unprecedented speed and security. It unites our fronts, allowing for the swift reinforcement of hot spots and the execution of complex, large-scale operations.
2. The Economic and Humanitarian Reclamation:
This victory extends far beyond the battlefield. For years, the regime has used its control of these roads to impose a brutal economic siege on our people, stifling trade and movement as a weapon of collective punishment.Ending the Blockade: By seizing these arteries, we have broken the siege. The people of North Wollo are no longer at the mercy of the regime’s checkpoints and arbitrary closures. The free flow of essential goods—food, medicine, and supplies—can now begin to heal our communities.
Restoring People’s Commerce: Farmers can get their goods to market, and families can reunite. This control is the first step towards restoring a semblance of normalcy and economic autonomy, undermining the regime’s strategy of starving our people into submission.
3. The Psychological Sovereignty:
Perhaps the most immediate effect is psychological. The sight of the regime’s trucks burning on the roadside while our Freedom Fighters move freely is an image that shatters the illusion of their invincibility.A Symbol of Lost Control: For the regime, the loss of this route is a humiliating public demonstration of their crumbling authority. It signals to their soldiers and collaborators that their grasp on the region is slipping away, fuelling the panic and desertions we have already witnessed.
A Beacon of People’s Power: For every Amhara, it is a tangible sign that liberation is not a distant dream but an unfolding reality. It proves that the power is returning to the hands of the people. We are no longer the governed; we are becoming the governors of our own land.
In conclusion, the control of these lifelines is far more than a tactical objective checked off a list. It is the moment the patient rose up and seized the IV drip from the hand of the poisoner. It is a fundamental shift from resistance to governance. By holding these arteries, our Freedom Fighters are not just choking the regime; we are breathing new life into the Amhara nation, ensuring that the future of this land is determined by those who cherish it, not by those who seek to break it. The valley’s fate, once controlled by those in the distant mountain passes of power, is now back in the hands of its rightful people.
Liberation of Woreda Capitals: Where the Flag of Freedom is Planted in the Soil of Governance
In the calculus of liberation, the capture of a remote military hilltop is a significant tactical victory. But the raising of the flag of freedom over the administrative capital of a woreda is a victory of an entirely different order. It is the moment, the abstract concept of ‘resistance’ crystallises into the tangible reality of ‘governance’. The subsequent taking of towns like Muja in Gedane woreda, Bulbala in Lasta woreda, and Estaish in Gazo woreda represents this critical transformation. This is not merely a continuation of military momentum; it is the political harvest of battlefield success. As a timeless Ethiopian adage reminds us, “A thousand armies can conquer the land, but only justice can rule the people.” Our Freedom Fighters have done more than conquer the land; by liberating these woreda capitals, they have begun the sacred work of restoring justice and legitimate order, displacing the oppressive administration of the regime with the authentic will of the people.
The profound importance of these liberations can be comprehensively understood through three fundamental shifts they enact:
1. The Dismantling of the Regime’s Machinery of Oppression
A woreda capital is not just a town; it is the seat of local government. It houses the police station, the administrative offices, the tax collection bureau, and the courts—the entire apparatus through which the regime imposes its will, collects its illicit taxes, and enforces its unjust laws. The liberation of these towns means the physical expulsion of this apparatus. The corrupt administrators, the brutal security forces, and the collaborators who sustained the occupation are either captured, have fled, or have been rendered powerless. This is the systematic dismantling of the regime’s nervous system at the local level. The fall of a fortress like Bistima breaks the regime’s military spine; the liberation of a woreda capital like Muja cuts the head off the snake of its political control.2. The Restoration of Local, Legitimate Order
The vacuum left by the fleeing regime is not filled with anarchy; it is filled immediately by the emerging structures of people’s administration. This is where military success transforms into political reality. Our Freedom Fighters do not simply occupy these towns as a conquering force; they facilitate the return of self-determination.Security: The first act is the restoration of security under the protection of the Freedom Fighters, allowing displaced families to return and citizens to walk their streets without fear.
Justice: The kangaroo courts of the regime are replaced by community-led mechanisms aimed at genuine reconciliation and justice, dealing with both the crimes of the occupation and local disputes.
Administration: The day-to-day functions of life—resolving disputes, coordinating local trade, managing resources—are taken up by councils of elders, community leaders, and trusted local figures. This is the “legitimate order” we speak of: an organic, accountable governance that springs from the people themselves, not one imposed by decree from Addis Ababa.
3. The Psychological Conquest of Space and Morale
Each liberated woreda capital serves as a powerful beacon, its light visible across the entire region.For the People: The liberation of Muja is a message to the people of a neighbouring woreda that their freedom is also within reach. It shatters the feeling of isolation and forges a collective consciousness of an inevitable victory. It proves that the regime’s authority is not only challengeable but reversible.
For the Regime: Each fallen woreda capital is a stark indicator of their disintegrating territorial control. It demonstrates that their power is receding from the countryside to a few beleaguered urban centres, which are themselves becoming islands in a sea of liberty. This has a devastating effect on the morale of regime officials still holding out elsewhere, fuelling the panic and desertions we have documented.
In conclusion, the liberation of these woreda capitals is the essential bridge between fighting a war and winning the peace. It is the point at which the defence of our land becomes the administration of our future. By planting the flag not just on hilltops but in the very town squares where community life is organised, our Freedom Fighters are demonstrating a profound truth: ours is not a campaign of destruction, but one of national rebirth. The justice that will rule our people is now being written in the liberated streets of Muja, Bulbala, and Estaish.
The Panic in Woldiya: The Spectre of Justice Haunts the Halls of Power
In any conflict, there are moments that reveal a deeper truth than any battle statistic ever could. The reported flight of the North Wollo Zone administrators from Woldiya under the cowardly cover of darkness is one such moment. This is not a tactical retreat; it is a rout of the spirit. It is the most telling and poetic sign of the regime’s moral bankruptcy, a silent admission of guilt shouted from the rooftops by their very absence. Their flight confirms a truth our people have long held in their hearts: that the authority of the occupier is a phantom, a mirage sustained only by the blunt instrument of force. And now, as that force is being systematically broken by our Freedom Fighters, the mirage is dissolving into the cold night air. There is an Amhara adage that perfectly captures the essence of such fair-weather collaborators: “When the tree falls, the monkeys scatter.” The tree of the regime’s military dominance in North Wollo is falling, and the administrators, like frightened monkeys, are scrambling away from the justice that awaits them.
The profound significance of this panic-stricken exodus can be unpacked across three critical dimensions:
1. The Collapse of Political Authority:
A government’s legitimacy is not derived solely from its power to command obedience, but from its perceived right to rule. The officials in Woldiya were the civilian face of the regime’s project in the zone. Their abrupt flight is the ultimate act of self-indictment. It demonstrates that they themselves never believed in the legitimacy of the system they served. They understood their rule not as a sacred trust, but as a temporary posting, contingent entirely on the protection of the military. When that protection evaporated with the fall of Klo Manekiya, Bistima, and the encirclement of the zone, their courage evaporated with it. They have shown the people of Woldiya, and indeed the world, that their authority was a performance, and the curtain has now fallen.2. A Military Implosion in Real-Time:
The flight of civilian administrators is a direct consequence of military collapse. They are not military strategists, but they have a front-row seat to the reports coming in. Their decision to flee indicates they received no assurances from the army that Woldiya could be held. This suggests a catastrophic breakdown in confidence within the entire command structure. The administrators would not have fled if they believed the 12th or 61st divisions could save them. Their panic is therefore a precise barometer of the sheer scale of the defeat suffered by the regime’s forces. It is an unscripted broadcast of the military’s disintegration, more honest than any press release from Addis Ababa could ever be.3. The Psychological Victory for the Resistance:
This event is a weapon of immense psychological power for our cause.For the People: It vindicates the immense sacrifices made by our communities. To see their former oppressors running away in fear is a powerful tonic for a people who have endured so much. It transforms the Freedom Fighters from abstract defenders into tangible liberators who have struck genuine fear into the heart of the enemy.
For the Remaining Collaborators: It sends a chilling message to any remaining individuals still collaborating with the regime in other areas. It demonstrates that the protection they rely on is an illusion, and that the long arm of the people’s justice will eventually reach them. This accelerates the internal decay of the regime’s support structure.
For the Freedom Fighters: It is the ultimate morale booster, a clear signal that their strategy is working. The enemy is not just losing ground; it is losing its nerve. The advance on Woldiya is now not just a military objective, but a mission to reclaim a capital already abandoned by its false rulers.
In conclusion, the panic in Woldiya is not a minor footnote in this conflict; it is a central chapter in the story of the regime’s demise. It is the moment the mask slipped, revealing the hollow core of their project. The administrators, in their desperate scramble to save themselves, have inadvertently performed their final and most valuable service to the people: they have proven that the power of the people, when channelled through the courage of the Freedom Fighters, is an unstoppable force. The phantom of illegitimate authority has fled, and the dawn of self-rule is breaking over Woldiya.
The Regime Eats Its Own: The Canker of Tyranny Turns Inward
In the grim anatomy of a dying regime, there is a terminal phase more revealing than any battlefield loss: the moment it begins to consume its own. The alleged house arrest of Lieutenant General Assefa Chekol, the commander of the very North Eastern Command tasked with subduing our people, is a development of profound significance. It is not a simple personnel change; it is a classic symptom of a system in its death throes, a public confession of failure written not in words but in the betrayal of one of its own senior generals. When a structure built on fear can no longer project that fear outwards, it turns inwards upon itself. There is an adage that speaks to this self-destructive impulse, one that resonates from the halls of Menelik’s court to the present day: “The snake that is surrounded, unable to strike its enemy, will eventually coil and sink its fangs into its own body.” The regime, surrounded by the rising tide of our resistance and humiliated by the victories of our Freedom Fighters, is now poisoning itself from within.
The implications of this act of internal cannibalism are devastating for the regime and can be understood through three critical lenses:
1. The Inevitable Scapegoating After Catastrophic Failure
A regime built on a cult of strength and invincibility cannot admit that its core ideology or its leader is flawed. Therefore, when its military strategy collapses as spectacularly as it did in North Wollo, it must find a scapegoat. Lieutenant General Assefa Chekol is that sacrificial lamb. His alleged arrest is a desperate attempt by the central command in Addis Ababa to absolve itself of blame for the loss of entire woredas, the destruction of battalions, and the capture of vast arsenals. It is a theatrical performance for the remaining officer corps, meant to signal that failure will be punished, while deliberately ignoring the fact that the failure is systemic. This act exposes a culture of cowardice and blame-shifting at the highest levels, proving that loyalty to the regime is a one-way street that ends at the execution wall.2. The Exposure of Irreparable Internal Rot
A healthy organism fights external threats. A diseased one attacks its own cells. The removal of a commanding general in the midst of an active military campaign is an act of catastrophic self-sabotage. It plunges the North Eastern Command into instant paralysis and confusion. Who is in charge? What is the new strategy? The chain of command is shattered at the very moment cohesion is most needed. This internal rot is further highlighted by the reported insults from his subordinates—the suggestion that Oromo officers would tell their Amhara commander, “We will cut off your rank with a knife and throw it at you,” reveals an army fractured along ethnic lines, consumed by mutual suspicion and hatred. Our Freedom Fighters face a unified enemy no longer, but a fractured, paranoid collection of factions already at war with themselves.3. A Gift to the Resistance: A Morale-Crushing Spectacle
For our Freedom Fighters and the wider public, this event is a potent source of validation and morale.Proof of Efficacy: There is no greater confirmation of our success than seeing the enemy tear itself apart in response. It proves that our strikes have hit with such force that the very foundations of their command are shaking. The general was not arrested for incompetence in a vacuum; he was arrested because our forces made his position untenable.
A Warning to Others: The spectacle serves as a warning to every other regime officer in the field. It demonstrates that serving this regime is a suicide pact. Even total loyalty is no protection from becoming the next scapegoat for a war that is fundamentally unjust and unwinnable. This will inevitably foster hesitation, distrust, and a reluctance to engage our forces aggressively, for fear of being the next to be offered up for sacrifice.
In conclusion, the alleged fate of Lieutenant General Assefa Chekol is not a sign of the regime’s strength or its commitment to accountability. It is the very opposite. It is the unmistakable sound of a rotting edifice cracking apart. A system that cannibalises its own leadership has run out of external solutions and has begun its final, self-destructive unravelling. The snake is biting itself. Our task, as Freedom Fighters, is to continue to apply the pressure, to ensure the venom courses through its veins until the entire corrupt structure lies paralysed and defeated. The regime is writing its own epitaph in the blood of its loyalists, and we are witness to its final, ugly chapter.
A War of Drones and Disinformation: The Coward’s Weapons and the People’s Shield
When the lion of the field is matched and outmanoeuvred by the cunning of the hunter, it does not concede defeat honourably; it retreats to a distance and seeks to burn the entire forest. The regime’s response to its humiliating losses on the ground—a reliance on intense drone surveillance and the looming threat of merciless aerial attacks—is the act of a desperate and cowardly power. It is an admission, clearer than any white flag, that they cannot face our Freedom Fighters on equal terms, man to man, on the soil that we know and they merely occupy. This shift in strategy reveals their true nature: they do not seek to win the allegiance of the people, but to terrorise them into submission. An ancient Ethiopian adage speaks to this truth: “The hawk that cannot catch the chick on the ground will circle high above, waiting for a moment of weakness.” The regime is that hawk, and its drones are its circling shadow. But we say to them: our people are not weak, and they are not alone. We warn our communities to be vigilant, for this desperate turn proves a fundamental truth: the enemy fears the spirit of the people far more than it fears the bullets from our rifles.
This new phase of the war must be understood comprehensively across its twin pillars of technology and deceit:
1. The Weaponisation of Distance: A Strategy of Cowardice
The use of armed drones and surveillance aircraft is the ultimate weapon of a force that has lost the moral and tactical initiative on the ground.The Lack of Moral Courage: Unable to withstand the courage and fieldcraft of our Freedom Fighters in close combat, the regime resorts to killing from the skies, often from an operator sitting in comfort hundreds of miles away. This sanitised, long-distance warfare is the epitome of cowardice. It avoids the risk to their own soldiers while inflicting maximum terror on our civilian populations.
The Indiscriminate Nature: Drone strikes are notoriously imprecise. Their surveillance is flawed, their intelligence is often poor, and their result is the massacre of farmers, shepherds, and families gathered in markets or homes. This is not a military strategy; it is a strategy of collective punishment, designed to break the will of the people by making the cost of supporting the resistance unbearable.
2. The Fog of Disinformation: A War for the Narrative
Knowing it is losing the physical war, the regime has launched a full-scale assault on the truth. This battle is waged in the minds of Ethiopians and the international community.Hiding Their Losses: While we publicly catalogue our victories—the weapons captured, the towns liberated—the regime hides its dead, labels defeated soldiers as “martyrs” in fake operations, and denies the fall of entire woredas. They create a fantasy world where they are in control, a narrative that grows more desperate and detached from reality with each passing day.
Slandering the Resistance: Our legitimate struggle for self-defence and freedom is systematically labelled as “terrorism” or “banditry.” They seek to delegitimise our cause internationally and convince the uninformed that our Freedom Fighters are a threat to be eradicated, rather than the last line of defence for a people facing existential danger.
3. The People’s Vigilance: Our Ultimate Defence
In the face of these twin threats—the drone from the sky and the lie from the ministry—our strength lies in the unbreakable bond between the Freedom Fighters and the people.Community as Early-Warning System: Our warning for communities to be vigilant and share information is the key to countering the drone threat. The enemy’s technology is useless if our people report strange movements, if we avoid large gatherings when surveillance is intense, and if we move with the secrecy that the land itself provides. The people are our eyes and ears, a living, breathing defence network no technology can defeat.
Truth as Our Weapon: Against the regime’s disinformation, we wield the unvarnished truth. The videos of liberated towns, the testimony of freed citizens, and the captured weapons paraded not as trophies but as evidence of victory—these are the tools that shatter the regime’s lies. We speak directly to our people and the world, bypassing the regime’s corrupt media machine.
In conclusion, the regime’s descent into a war of drones and disinformation is not a sign of its strength, but the final, frantic thrashing of a drowning power. They have lost the ground war, and they have lost the hearts of the people. All that remains is their capacity to inflict pain from a distance and to distort the truth. But we are prepared. Our communities are our shield against their cowardly technology, and our unwavering commitment to justice is the sword that cuts through their lies. The hawk may circle, but the people of the land, united and vigilant, will never again be its prey.
The Language of Liberation: The Mother Tongue as a Weapon of War
In the heat of battle, amidst the cacophony of conflict, the most powerful weapon is not always the one that fires a bullet. It can be a word. The reports that our Freedom Fighters are addressing the enemy in their own native language—be it Amharic, Oromo, or Tigrigna—is a detail of profound symbolic weight. This is far more than a practical tactic for communication; it is a profound act of reclamation and a devastating psychological manoeuvre. It signifies a total reversal of the established order. There is an adage that has been whispered in our highlands for generations: “A snake may shed its skin, but it can never change the language of its hiss.” By speaking to the enemy in the tongue of the land, our fighters are reminding them of an immutable truth: they are not foreign conquerors on distant soil, but rather, they are sons of this same soil, whose borrowed authority has been exposed as a cruel illusion. The language of liberation is the language of home, and its use on the battlefield is a declaration of whose home this truly is.
The deep significance of this linguistic reclamation can be understood through three powerful layers of meaning:
1. The Reversal of the Power Dynamic
For years, the regime has used language as a tool of domination. Its decrees are issued in the language of power, its commands barked in the tongue of the occupier. To be addressed in one’s own native language by a warrior in a position of strength completely inverts this dynamic. The Freedom Fighter is no longer a faceless insurgent to be ordered and controlled; he becomes a judge, a teacher, a voice of moral authority. He strips the enemy soldier of the anonymity of his uniform and addresses the human being within, the Ethiopian within, often with a chilling and personal clarity. This shatters the psychological distance that allows for brutality, forcing a moment of recognition that is deeply unsettling for those serving an unjust cause.2. The Reclamation of Identity and Land
Language is the soul of a people, the living archive of their history and their connection to the land. When a Freedom Fighter speaks Amharic to an Amharic-speaking collaborator, or Oromo to an Oromo soldier used as a tool of occupation, the message is unmistakable: “I know who you are. This land knows who you are. Your allegiance to a foreign and oppressive project is a betrayal of your own heritage.” This is a reclamation of identity. It asserts that the true defenders of the land are those who speak its language in defence of its people, not those who use the language of power to subjugate it. The fighter’s tongue proves a deeper, more legitimate claim to the soil than the soldier’s boot.3. The Voiding of Borrowed Authority
The regime’s authority in Amhara lands is, by its very nature, borrowed and illegitimate. It is enforced by the gun and sustained by fear. By speaking in the native tongue, our fighters expose this illegitimacy at its core. The message is: “The power you wield is not your own. It is lent to you by a distant master, and we are here to reclaim it.” This act voids the authority of the occupier and the collaborator. It reduces their power to a mere technicality—possession of a weapon—while affirming that moral, historical, and cultural authority rests with the resistance. It is a declaration that the regime’s project is an unnatural aberration, a parasite that the body politic is now violently rejecting.In conclusion, the language of liberation is a thread that connects the current struggle to the deepest wells of Ethiopian history and identity. It is a weapon that cannot be captured, a strategy that cannot be countered with brute force. When our Freedom Fighters choose their words with the same precision as they aim their rifles, they are fighting for more than territory. They are fighting for the soul of the nation. They are reminding every Ethiopian, regardless of the uniform they wear, that the bonds of shared language and land are ultimately stronger than the fleeting power of any tyrant. The hiss of the snake may be fearsome, but it is the language of the homeland, spoken by its true children, that will spell its end.
The Myth of “Prosperity”: The Empty Bellies Beneath the Empty Words
They have named themselves the “Prosperity Party,” a title that rings with the most bitter and cruel irony in the ears of our people. For in the Amhara region, and indeed across Ethiopia, their reign has yielded a harvest not of wealth, but of thorns. The prosperity they preach is a myth, a glittering illusion painted over a reality of profound and deepening poverty. But this is not merely a poverty of the purse; it is a more devastating kind of destitution. It is poverty of security, where a farmer cannot tend his field without fear of abduction or violence. It is a poverty of justice, where the courts serve the powerful and the innocent languish in forgotten prisons. And most corrosive of all, it is a poverty of hope, where a mother fears the future she will bequeath to her children. Our struggle, the struggle of the Amhara Freedom Fighters, is the true project of prosperity. It is a struggle to build a future not on the shifting sands of a dictator’s whim, but on the bedrock of self-determination and honour. An Amhara adage speaks to this truth: “You cannot fill a hungry man’s belly with the sound of a drum.” The regime beats the drum of “prosperity” day and night, but the people remain hungry, afraid, and disenfranchised. We are the ones who seek to provide the bread of true freedom.
The hollowness of the regime’s “prosperity” and the substance of our own can be starkly contrasted in three critical areas:
1. The Poverty of Security vs. The Prosperity of Peace
The most fundamental promise of any government is the security of its people. The “Prosperity Party” regime has catastrophically broken this covenant. Under their watch, our villages have been attacked, our children have been slaughtered, and our elders have been displaced. Their security forces are not protectors; they are an army of occupation, creating the very insecurity they claim to fight. In stark contrast, the prosperity we fight for begins with peace. It is the peace that comes when a community can govern its own affairs, when its Freedom Fighters are its guardians, accountable to the people. The liberation of woredas like Gazo and Gedane is the first step towards this true prosperity—the prosperity of a people able to sleep behind doors they themselves lock and unlock.2. The Poverty of Justice vs. The Prosperity of Law
The regime’s so-called justice is a commodity sold to the highest bidder or wielded as a weapon against political opponents. It is a system where ethnicity and allegiance to the party trump truth and fairness. This has created a landscape of legal desolation, where there is no recourse for the victimised. Our vision of prosperity is built upon the restoration of legitimate law. It is a system where the rule of law, derived from the consent and traditions of the people, is sovereign. This is the justice our local councils are beginning to administer in liberated areas—a justice that seeks to reconcile and heal, not to punish and divide. This is the prosperity of a society where every individual has dignity and standing before the law.3. The Poverty of Hope vs. The Prosperity of a Future
The regime’s policies have systematically extinguished the hope of the Amhara people. By denying our history, marginalising our voice, and threatening our very existence, they have sought to condemn us to a future of subservience and fear. This is the deepest poverty of all. Our struggle is, at its heart, a struggle to reclaim hope. Every victory of our Freedom Fighters, every liberated town, every captured weapon, is a deposit into the bank of our collective future. It is the promise that our children will inherit a land where they can speak their mind, practise their faith, and determine their destiny with honour. This is the ultimate prosperity—the prosperity of a people who control their own fate.In conclusion, the myth of the regime’s “prosperity” is a fragile façade, already crumbling under the weight of its own falsehoods. Our struggle is not one of destruction, but of construction. We are tearing down the rotten structure of oppression to lay the foundations for a genuine and lasting prosperity. We fight not for the empty sound of a drum, but for the tangible reality of a secure home, a just society, and a future filled with hope. This is the true prosperity party—a gathering of a people, united and free, finally able to build their own destiny.
Beyond Amhara: An Ethiopian Struggle – The Keystone of Liberty
To the casual observer, or to the regime’s propagandists who seek to frame our resistance as a narrow, sectarian conflict, the battle cries of our Freedom Fighters may sound like a song for Amhara alone. This is a deliberate and dangerous misreading of our cause. While it is an undeniable and sacred truth that we fight for the very survival of the Amhara people, who have been singled out for existential threat, our struggle carries a weight that transcends our regional borders. Our victory will not be a victory for Amhara alone; it will be a victory for every Ethiopian who chafes under the yoke of this ethnic-based tyranny. A free and self-determining Amhara region will not be a breakaway state, but rather the essential cornerstone of a free, confederated Ethiopia. There is an adage that has guided Ethiopian wisdom for centuries: “When the central pillar of the house is rotten, the entire structure is doomed to collapse.” The current regime, built on the rotten pillar of ethnic apartheid and centralised dictatorship, is that failing house. Our struggle is to replace that pillar with one of justice and voluntary union, saving the entire structure for all who dwell within it.
This profound national significance can be comprehended across three vital dimensions:
1. Dismantling the Architecture of Apartheid
The current regime did not invent ethnic politics, but it has perfected them into a ruthless system of control, pitting brother against brother in a cynical game of divide and rule. Its constitutionally enshrined ethnic federalism is the source of the poison that has infected our body politic. By resisting this system with every ounce of our strength, the Amhara people are, perhaps unwittingly to some, fighting the battle of every marginalised group in Ethiopia. We are the primary force challenging the very framework of this tyranny. If we succeed in breaking its grip on our land, we shatter the model of governance that oppresses the Sidama, the Somali, the Afar, and countless others. Our victory proves that the monster of ethnic hegemony can be slain, offering a blueprint for liberation to all.2. The Cornerstone of a True Federation
The regime speaks of “unity” while practising assimilation and domination. We envision a different future: a Ethiopia that is a voluntary and genuine federation of free peoples. In such a union, strength is not derived from a centralised, oppressive state, but from the collective power of self-governing, confident nations like a free Amhara, Oromia, Tigray, and others, choosing to cooperate as equals for the common good. A free Amhara is not a threat to this vision; it is its absolute prerequisite. It would become the cornerstone—the first strong, sovereign entity capable of negotiating a new, equitable social contract for all of Ethiopia. It would be a partner, not a subject, ensuring that the mistakes of the past are not repeated and that no single group can ever again dominate the rest.3. The Defence of a Shared Civilisational Space
Despite the regime’s attempts to rewrite history, the Amhara people have been integral to the historical, cultural, and political fabric of the Ethiopian civilisation for millennia. This is not a claim of superiority, but a statement of inseparable interconnection. An attack on the Amhara people, their heritage, and their right to exist is an attack on a fundamental thread in the rich tapestry of Ethiopia itself. By defending ourselves, we are defending a shared heritage. We are fighting for an Ethiopia where all cultures and peoples can flourish without fear of annihilation, where the history of the Amhara, the Oromo, the Tigrayan, and every other nation is respected as part of a collective national story, not weaponised against one another.In conclusion, to see the Amhara struggle as an isolated affair is to misunderstand the entire geopolitical battle underway in the Horn of Africa. We are the front line. The regime knows that if its model of control fails in Amhara, it fails everywhere. Therefore, our fight for our own survival is inextricably linked to the liberation of every Ethiopian from the curse of ethnic tyranny. We are not pulling the house down; we are replacing its rotten central pillar. We are fighting to build a new Ethiopia, where the freedom of one people guarantees the freedom of all, united not by force, but by a common and voluntary resolve. Our struggle is Amhara in its immediate context, but it is profoundly, unshakeably Ethiopian in its ultimate destination.
Addressing the Counterargument: “This is Anarchy” – The Birth Pangs of a New Order
The regime and its apologists, watching the crumbling of their meticulously constructed edifice of control, will inevitably reach for their most familiar weapon: the lie. They will point to the turbulence of conflict, the displacement of their corrupt administrators, and the sound of battle, and they will label it “anarchy.” They will present themselves as the sole guardians of order against a descent into chaos. This is a deliberate and cynical misrepresentation of reality. We say to the world: what you are witnessing is not anarchy. It is the necessary, painful, and righteous process of birth. It is the birth of a true and legitimate order from the stagnant, oppressive chaos of the regime’s rule. An ancient Ethiopian adage speaks to this universal truth: “You cannot clear the field for a new crop without first turning over the soil.” The process is messy, the earth is churned, and the weeds are exposed to the sun. But it is not destruction for its own sake; it is an essential act of creation. The fall of the old is the prerequisite for the rise of the new.
This false narrative of anarchy can be dismantled by examining the clear evidence of our commitment to lawful rule:
1. The Fall of Illegitimate Order is Not Anarchy
The “order” that the regime laments is the oppressive peace of the graveyard. It is the silence of a people cowed into submission by fear, checkpoints, and midnight arrests. To equate the disruption of this unjust “order” with anarchy is to argue that a prisoner breaking his chains is creating disorder. The regime’s order was a form of institutionalised violence against the Amhara people. Our resistance is the lawful and moral act of self-defence, the sound of the chains breaking. The temporary period of conflict is the direct and sole responsibility of the regime that refuses to relinquish its illegitimate authority.2. The Immediate Establishment of Public Administration
The most powerful refutation of the “anarchy” slur is visible on the ground in every liberated town, from Estaish to Muja. The moment the regime’s administrators flee, a new, organic structure of governance begins to emerge. This is not a vacuum; it is a transition.Security: Our Freedom Fighters do not disband to loot and pillage; they immediately establish security perimeters, restoring a sense of safety for the return of displaced families. This is the first and most fundamental duty of any legitimate authority.
Local Councils: We facilitate the formation of local councils comprising elders, community leaders, and trusted figures. These councils begin the work of daily governance—resolving disputes, coordinating the distribution of aid, and managing local resources. This is not anarchy; it is the very essence of grassroots, accountable administration, more legitimate than any official appointed by fiat from Addis Ababa.
Rule of Law: The kangaroo courts of the regime are replaced by community-based justice. This is a conscious effort to build a legal system based on restitution and reconciliation, not on the ethnic-based persecution that characterised the regime’s so-called “rule of law.”
3. A Struggle for a Higher Order
Our ultimate aim is not the perpetual chaos of war, but the establishment of a durable and just peace. The current conflict is a painful but necessary means to that end. We are fighting for an order based on the consent of the governed, not the coercion of the gun. We are fighting for an order where the law serves the people, not the ruling party. The regime offers the “order” of the prison camp. We are fighting for the order of a free society, which, by its nature, must be born from the struggle to overthrow its opposite.In conclusion, to label our resistance as anarchy is to fundamentally misunderstand its nature. It is to mistake the demolition of a rotten and dangerous building for mindless vandalism, while ignoring the blueprints for a new, safer structure already in hand. The regime sowed the wind of oppression for decades; it is now reaping the whirlwind of justified resistance. The temporary turbulence is not our goal; it is the cost of passage to a better future. The public administrations we are building amidst the conflict are the living proof that our cause is not chaos, but the creation of a new, authentic, and lawful order for the Amhara people and for all of Ethiopia. We are not tearing down the house; we are replacing the rotten foundations upon which it was built.
Addressing the Counterargument: “Dialogue is the Answer” – The Dialogue of the Free, Not the Plea of the Condemned
When the wolf has its teeth at the lamb’s throat, it does not call for “dialogue”; it demands submission. For years, the regime in Addis Ababa, while systematically dismantling the rights and security of the Amhara people, has hidden behind the hollow rhetoric of “dialogue” and “peaceful resolution.” They offer this poisoned chalice only when their boots are on our necks, never when we stand free and equal. We have seen the true nature of the regime’s dialogue. It is not a conversation between respected parties; it is the dialogue of the prison cell and the grave—a monologue of demands delivered through the bars of a cell or etched onto a headstone. Therefore, our position is unequivocal: we will only engage in true dialogue from a position of proven strength, negotiated as equals, not as victims begging for rights that are inherently ours. There is an Amhara adage that cuts to the heart of this matter: “One does not negotiate the price of one’s own life with the murderer who holds the knife.” To do so is not dialogue; it is surrender.
This rejection of the regime’s false calls for dialogue is rooted in three irrefutable truths:
1. The Regime’s History of “Dialogue” is a History of Betrayal
The term “dialogue” has been weaponised by this regime and its predecessors as a tool of pacification and deception. It is a tactic used to buy time, to split opposition movements, and to lure leaders into traps where they are neutralised, either through co-option or elimination. The Amhara people have seen this play before. We have sat at tables only to find the promises made there were worthless parchment, torn up the moment the regime had regained its military advantage. Their dialogue is a theatre performance designed for international audiences, while the real work of oppression continues unabated on the ground. To accept dialogue on their terms is to validate their illegitimate authority and to ignore the graves of those who made the mistake of trusting them before.2. Power Does Not Grant Rights; It Recognises Them
The regime’s call for dialogue is predicated on a fundamental lie: that the rights of the Amhara people are privileges to be granted or withdrawn by the central government. Our right to self-determination, to security, and to exist without fear is not a favour to be negotiated. It is an inherent and non-negotiable truth. To enter talks from a position of weakness, while our people are being slaughtered and our land occupied, is to implicitly accept this lie. It reduces our sacred struggle to a list of petty grievances. True dialogue can only occur when both parties recognise the inherent and equal sovereignty of the other. Currently, the regime recognises only its own power.3. Strength is the Only Language of Tyrants
The regime understands and respects only one language: the language of strength. The recent victories of our Freedom Fighters in North Wollo have done more to change the political calculus in Addis Ababa than a decade of petitions and pleas. It is only now, as their forts fall and their soldiers flee, that they whisper of dialogue. This is not a change of heart; it is a tactical retreat forced upon them by our resilience. Therefore, strengthening our position on the battlefield is the most direct path to a meaningful negotiation table. Every weapon captured, every town liberated, and every enemy unit neutralised increases our bargaining power and forces the regime to see us not as subjects to be pacified, but as a sovereign force to be reckoned with.In conclusion, our refusal of the regime’s cynical calls for dialogue is not a rejection of peace. It is a demand for a peace built on justice, not on submission. We are not unwilling to talk; we are unwilling to beg. The path to a true and lasting dialogue runs directly through the continued success of our resistance. When we sit down as equals, it will be because we have stood up as warriors and proven our right to be there. The time for talking will come, but it will be on our terms, dictated by our strength, and focused on the future of a free people, not the terms of our surrender. We will negotiate the future of our nation, not the price of our chains.
The Spirit of Menelik Ez: The Ancient Shield, Forged Anew
In the heart of every struggle for survival, a name emerges that becomes more than a title; it becomes a standard around which a people rally. The command structure of Menelik Ez is such a standard for the Amhara people and for all Ethiopians who yearn for freedom. To view it as a mere military designation is to misunderstand its profound significance. Menelik Ez is not a foreign import, a copy of a foreign doctrine; it is the embodiment of a spirit deeply etched into the highlands of Ethiopia. It is the resilience and strategic acumen of our heritage rising, once again, to meet an existential threat. It is the latest incarnation of a timeless Ethiopian principle: that when the sovereignty of the nation is threatened, its defence must be organised, intelligent, and rooted in the indomitable will of its people. There is an adage that has guided us through centuries of challenges: “The wise blacksmith does not discard the old shield; he melts it down to forge a stronger one for the new battle.” The spirit of Menelik Ez is precisely that—the ancient, unyielding metal of Ethiopian resistance, reforged in the fires of present-day tyranny to meet the specific challenges of this hour.
The profound essence of this spirit can be understood through its three foundational pillars:
1. A Legacy of Strategic Acumen, Not Brute Force
The historical Emperor Menelik II is remembered not merely for the victory at Adwa, but for the brilliant diplomacy and strategic foresight that made that victory possible. He understood the landscape, both political and geographical, with a master’s eye. The Menelik Ez command structure inherits this legacy. Its successes—the coordinated multi-front offensives, the seizure of strategic lifelines, the patient encirclement of urban centres—are not the product of reckless aggression. They are the result of a deeply Ethiopian cunning, a sophisticated understanding of the terrain and the enemy’s weaknesses. It is a strategy that out-thinks the opponent, using the regime’s own size and arrogance against it, much as Adwa used the invaders’ hubris to ensure their defeat. This is not the war of a desperate militia; it is the campaign of a seasoned and strategic national force.2. The Resilience Forged in the Crucible of History
The Amhara people, and Ethiopians as a whole, possess a resilience that is the product of millennia of defending a unique civilisation against countless external threats and internal schisms. This is not a resilience of mere endurance, but one of adaptation and regeneration. The Menelik Ez spirit channels this historical resilience. It is evident in the ability of our Freedom Fighters to operate with minimal resources, to adapt to shifting tactics, and to maintain their morale in the face of overwhelming technological odds, such as drone warfare. This resilience ensures that our resistance cannot be worn down by attrition; it is a spirit that draws strength from the very land it defends, growing stronger with each trial, much like the gesho plant that thrives in harsh conditions.3. An Organic, Deeply Ethiopian Response
The rise of Menelik Ez is a direct and organic response to a very specific threat: the existential danger posed by a regime that has weaponised ethnicity to dismantle the Ethiopian state and target the Amhara people. It was not conceived in a foreign academy but born from the immediate need of communities to defend themselves. Its leadership, like the veteran campaigner Adem Ali (Aba Nadew), emerges from the people themselves. Its fighters are farmers, teachers, and students who have taken up arms not for conquest, but for survival. This makes it a genuinely popular and legitimate structure, accountable to the people it protects. It is a shield forged by the blacksmiths of our own villages, for the specific arrows being shot at us today.In conclusion, the Spirit of Menelik Ez is the living soul of our resistance. It is the proof that we are not merely reacting to oppression, but are acting from a deep well of historical consciousness and strategic wisdom. It connects the current struggle directly to the great defensive traditions of the Ethiopian past, assuring our people that we have faced down existential threats before and emerged victorious. This spirit is our shield, reforged for a new battle. It is the guarantee that our fight is not a descent into chaos, but a conscious, strategic, and deeply rooted march towards the redemption of a nation.
The Power of Unified Hands: The Unbreakable Chain of a People’s Will
In the face of fighter jets, artillery, and the vast apparatus of a state turned against its own people, it is easy to search for a single, miraculous weapon that will guarantee victory. Yet, the true source of our strength is far more profound and infinitely more powerful than any piece of military hardware. It is encapsulated in the principle that echoes from the mountains of Wollo to the streets of Gondar: “Our existence is in our united hands!” This is not a mere slogan to be painted on walls; it is the bedrock truth of our resistance, the fundamental principle upon which every victory is built. This is not a struggle fought solely by Freedom Fighters with rifles; it is a struggle sustained by the silent, unwavering support of every farmer who shares his harvest, every trader who contributes a portion of his earnings, every mother who prays for our sons, and every parent who shelters a patriot. An ancient Ethiopian adage, known in every household, teaches this universal lesson: “A single stick is easily broken, but a bundle of sticks is unbreakable.” The regime has tried for years to isolate us, to break us one by one. Instead, we have chosen to bind ourselves together, creating a bundle of such unity that all their attempts to break us have failed.
The tangible power of this unity can be seen in three critical ways:
1. The Logistician Behind the Fighter: A Nation as the Supply Line
An army marches on its stomach, and a resistance movement thrives on its connection to the people. The regime’s soldiers rely on convoys from Addis Ababa that we can ambush and disrupt. Our Freedom Fighters, however, rely on a supply line that is invisible, organic, and unbreakable. It is the farmer in North Shewa who hides a cache of grain. It is the merchant in Bahir Dar who passes on crucial information under the guise of casual trade. It is the network of safe houses that stretches across the region, each home a link in a chain of trust. This is the meaning of “united hands.” It is the entire Amhara nation functioning as a single, living organism dedicated to its own survival. The regime fights a conventional army; it is utterly lost when facing a people united in purpose.2. The Moral Armour of Legitimacy
A fighter in the field draws courage from more than just training; he draws it from the certainty that his cause is just and that his people stand behind him. When a Freedom Fighter knows he is the embodiment of his people’s will, he wears an armour of moral conviction that no bullet can pierce. This unity provides a psychological strength that the regime’s conscripts, who fight for a paycheck and an ideology of hate, can never comprehend. The regime’s soldiers fight for a political party; our Freedom Fighters, and the people who support them, fight for their children’s future, for their ancestors’ graves, and for the very right to exist. This is a force multiplier of incalculable value.3. The Defeat of the Regime’s Central Strategy: Division
The foundational strategy of the regime has always been to divide and rule. They have sought to pit Ethiopian against Ethiopian, neighbour against neighbour, based on ethnicity and political allegiance. The profound success of our movement, under the banner of “united hands,” is the total failure of this strategy. The unity between the Freedom Fighters and the populace—across class, age, and occupation—has created a monolith that the regime cannot crack. They cannot infiltrate it because it is based on blood and trust. They cannot bribe it because its currency is honour, not money. They cannot terrorise it into submission because its resolve is collective; for every person they disappear, ten more step forward to take their place.In conclusion, “Our existence is in our united hands!” is the DNA of our resistance. It is the recognition that the rifle is merely the tool, but the people’s will is the hand that wields it. The farmer’s sack of grain, the trader’s whispered intelligence, and the parent’s blessing are as vital to victory as the captured mortar or the liberated town. We are not a military force with popular support; we are a people who have organised a military wing. The bundle of sticks, bound together by a common cause, has proven itself unbreakable. It is this unity that has broken the regime’s forts, panicked its administrators, and now promises to forge a future where our children’s existence will be secure, because it will remain, forever, in their own united hands.
The Goal is Freedom, Not Revenge: Dismantling the Machine, Not Executing the Cogs
In the heat of battle, when the wounds of our people are fresh and the memory of atrocities burns bright, the easiest path to tread would be one of blind vengeance. It would be a path of an eye for an eye, a brutality to match their brutality. Yet, our Freedom Fighters have consistently chosen a different, more arduous road. We take prisoners. We treat the wounded enemy soldier. This is not a sign of weakness; it is the ultimate testament to the strength and moral clarity of our cause. Our fight is not a blood feud against individual soldiers, who are often poor, misled conscripts serving a regime they may not fully comprehend. Our fight is a surgical strike against the very structure of domination itself. We seek to dismantle the machine of oppression, not to perpetuate the endless, self-consuming cycle of violence that has crippled our region for decades. There is an Amhara adage that guides this principle: “When you kill the snake, do not waste your anger on the discarded skin.” The regime’s soldiers are the shed skin, the visible but lifeless tool. Our objective is to cut off the head of the serpent—the ideological and political structure that commands them.
This critical distinction is the bedrock of our legitimacy and our future, and it can be understood through three essential truths:
1. The Demonstration of a Higher Morality
By adhering to the rules of war and showing humanity to our captives, we draw a stark, undeniable line between our cause and that of the regime. They engage in extrajudicial killings, torture, and collective punishment. We demonstrate restraint, principle, and a respect for life that transcends the conflict. This is not merely ethical; it is strategic. It proves to the world, and more importantly to the Ethiopian people, that we are not merely another violent faction, but a movement capable of governance and justice. It wins the hearts and minds of those who fear that the fall of one tyranny will simply lead to the rise of another. We are showing them the character of the future we intend to build.2. Undermining the Regime’s Propaganda
The regime’s narrative depends on painting our Freedom Fighters as savage “bandits” or “terrorists” who threaten the very fabric of society. Every prisoner we take humanely, every wounded soldier we treat, shreds this false narrative to pieces. It sends a powerful message to the rank-and-file soldiers of the enemy: “You are not our primary enemy. Surrender, and you will live. You have been deceived by your commanders.” This tactic sows doubt and erodes the morale of the regime’s forces far more effectively than indiscriminate killing ever could. It turns their own soldiers into potential witnesses to our integrity.3. Breaking the Cycle for a Lasting Peace
A victory achieved through revenge is a hollow victory that sows the seeds for the next conflict. If we were to engage in the same atrocities as the regime, we would become a mirror image of the evil we seek to destroy. We would create a new generation of victims on the other side, ensuring that the pain and hatred continue long after the battlefields fall silent. Our goal is a lasting peace, a freedom that is stable and secure. This can only be built on a foundation of justice, not on a mound of corpses. By focusing on dismantling the system—the laws, the institutions, the command structure—we aim to create a political settlement where such violence is no longer possible. We are fighting for a day when the sons of Amhara and Oromo, of Tigray and Somali, will not be forced to point guns at each other by a cynical central power.In conclusion, our commitment to humanity in warfare is the clearest expression of our ultimate goal. We are not fighting to become the new oppressors in a reversed hierarchy. We are fighting to end oppression altogether. The machine of ethnic apartheid and dictatorship is the true enemy. The individual soldier is a cog in that machine, one we can sometimes spare, and sometimes even help to see the error of his path. By taking the harder, more principled road, we are not just winning a war; we are laying the groundwork for the peace that must follow. We are proving that our struggle is one of liberation in its truest sense—a fight not to seize power for ourselves, but to return power to the people, all the people, and to build a future where revenge is a relic of a bitter past, and freedom is the inheritance of every Ethiopian.
An Unfinished Journey: The Flame from Wollo Illuminates the Path to Woldiya
From the sacred soil of North Wollo, a clarion call has been issued, not of final victory, but of irreversible momentum. The battle for the town of Densa continues to rage, and the advance of our Freedom Fighters towards the strategic prize of Woldiya is undeniably underway. To believe the fall of a few woreda capitals signifies the end of our struggle would be a profound mistake. This is not the end; it is the decisive turning point, the moment the tide of war shifted irrevocably in favour of the people. The flame of resistance that was ignited in the hills of Wollo—in Klo Manekiya, in Bistima, in Wondach—is no longer a solitary beacon. It is a spreading fire, leaping from valley to valley, and no amount of force deployed by the regime can now extinguish it. There is an adage that has sustained our people through darker times: “The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step, but its success is determined by the relentless pace of the march that follows.” We have taken not just a step, but a great leap. The march on Woldiya is that relentless pace, and its destination is the freedom of the entire Amhara nation.
This critical juncture in our struggle can be understood through three essential realities:
1. The Consolidation of a Liberated Heartland
The victories we have achieved are not isolated incidents; they are the deliberate creation of a liberated territory, a secure heartland from which our operations can be sustained and expanded. The control of towns like Muja, Bulbala, and Estaish is not the final objective, but the consolidation of our rear. These areas are now the workshops of our new administration, the sanctuaries for our fighters to regroup, and the proof-of-concept for our vision of self-rule. The battle for Densa is the sound of this consolidated force now pushing against the next ring of the regime’s defence. It is the necessary, grinding work of expanding the territory of freedom, inch by hard-fought inch.2. The Psychological Siege of the Regime’s Strongholds
The advance on Woldiya is as much a psychological operation as a military one. Woldiya is more than a city; it is a symbol of the regime’s administrative and military control in the entire zone. Our movement towards it places the occupying forces and their collaborators inside the city in a state of perpetual siege, even before a single shot is fired at its gates. The reported flight of officials is a testament to this psychological pressure. They feel the ground shifting beneath them, they hear the approaching footsteps of justice, and their resolve is cracking. Every day our forces tighten the noose is a day the regime’s morale plummets, making the eventual liberation not just a military probability, but an inevitability.3. The Inextinguishable Nature of a People’s Flame
The regime may have drones and heavy artillery, but we possess a weapon it can never acquire: the unbreakable will of a people who have chosen freedom over subjugation. A flame that is fed by the sacrifices of every farmer, the prayers of every mother, and the courage of every Freedom Fighter cannot be put out by brute force. It may be scattered for a moment, but it will always find new fuel and new air. The spread of this flame from the hills of Wollo to the gates of Woldiya demonstrates that our cause is organic and viral. It is carried in the hearts of our people, and as long as a single Amhara draws breath with hope for a better future, the flame will continue to burn, spreading light into the darkest corners of oppression.In conclusion, the journey is indeed unfinished, but its direction and ultimate conclusion are now clear. We are no longer fighting merely to resist; we are fighting to reclaim. The battle for Densa and the advance on Woldiya are the next logical, necessary chapters in this story of liberation. The flame ignited in Wollo has become a wildfire of determination. It will not be extinguished by the regime’s desperation; it will only be quenched when it has burned away the last vestiges of tyranny and illuminated a new dawn of freedom and self-determination for the Amhara people and for all of Ethiopia. The march continues, and its pace is relentless.
Conclusion: The Forging of a New Destiny
The events that have unfolded across the highlands of North Wollo are more than a military campaign; they are a seismic shock to the very foundations of the Ethiopian state, a tremor that signals the end of an era of tyranny and the birth of a new consciousness. The victories etched in the soil of Klo Manekiya, Bistima, and Wondach, and the relentless advance towards Woldiya, prove an ancient truth that oppressors throughout history have foolishly ignored: a force rooted in the people, nourished by a just cause, and guided by strategic acumen is an unstoppable force of nature. No army, however well-equipped with drones and foreign weaponry, can ultimately prevail against the unyielding will of a people who have chosen freedom over subjugation.
The Amhara Freedom Fighters of Fano are often misrepresented by a regime desperate to cling to its narrative. Let the truth be heard clearly: we are not destroying Ethiopia. We are engaged in the sacred, necessary work of saving it. We are salvaging the very soul of the nation from the clutches of a divisive and destructive regime whose only legacy is the poverty of justice, security, and hope. We are cutting out the cancerous tumour of ethnic apartheid so that the whole body of Ethiopia might finally heal.
A new history is being written not in the ink of bureaucrats in Addis Ababa, but with the courage of our fighters and the steadfastness of our people. This is a history in which the Amhara people are no longer cast as victims, pleading for their rights, but as the architects of their own destiny, reclaiming their future with dignity and resolve. The flame ignited in the hills of Wollo has become a prairie fire, and its light now illuminates the path for all oppressed peoples across the nation.
As the world watches, the central question has therefore shifted. It is no longer a matter of if this regime will fall; its moral and strategic bankruptcy is now laid bare for all to see. The only question that remains is how long it will cling to power, how much more suffering it will inflict, before the inexorable tide of freedom, now flowing with such power from North Wollo, washes over the entire nation, cleansing it of this generation’s oppression.
The struggle continues. The battle for Densa echoes, and the road to Woldiya beckons. This journey is arduous and paved with sacrifice, but its direction is clear, and its destination is certain. For the destination of this struggle is, and always has been, the same as the yearning in the heart of every Amhara: victory and freedom.
Amhara shall not kneel, shall not vanish, shall not be broken
Our existence is in our united hands!
Viva Ethiopia!
Viva FANO!
Commander Ras Yoram Gobeze
Fano Mobile Brigade
Ethiopia Autonomous Media