Irreecha’s gaze: Addis Ababa through the ritual

Irreecha, the Oromo festival of thanksgiving, is a ritual of gratitude offered to Waaqa (God) at the end of the rainy season. It marks renewal, peace, and the flourishing of life. Rooted in centuries of indigenous spiritual practice, it is a celebration where communities gather near rivers and lakes to honor the balance between human life and the natural world.

In recent years, Irreecha has become one of the most anticipated and widely attended celebrations in Addis Ababa, drawing crowds that fill roads, riversides, and public squares with color, song, and chanting. Participants arrive dressed in spirited traditional clothes, their movements transforming urban avenues into ceremonial paths. What was once a seasonal ritual tied to rural landscapes has now found a place in the heart of the capital.

The memory of 2016, when a stampede caused by security forces firing shots and using tear gas led to the deaths of hundreds as they fled the chaos, remains deeply woven into this annual gathering, a somber reminder of endurance and resilience.

As the festival continues to evolve, it has transcended its origins within Waaqeffanna, the indigenous Oromo religion, becoming a broader cultural and philosophical expression. Today, Irreecha is embraced not only by the adherents of Waaqeffanna but also by those who see in it a shared language of peace, renewal, and belonging.

At the core of this celebration lies the Waaqeffanna worldview, which is fundamentally relational. As Dr. Gemechu Neger (2021) and others explain, existence in this context is understood as sustained through continuous interaction between Waaqa (God), Humans, and Uumaa (Nature). This existence is governed by the principle of Safuu, the moral and ethical law of universal balance, which is affirmed by the people's actions.

The Waaqeffataas’ commitment to Safuu dictates that existence is based on mutual respect, not dominance. Waaqa manifests this power through Ayyaana (divine spirits) associated directly with natural entities, such as rivers and sacred trees. Within this framework, the act of thanksgiving is more than symbolic; it is a moral orientation that affirms interdependence.

The offerings of grass, water, and prayer embody this re-commitment to Safuu. Participants wade into the water, sprinkling fresh grass and flowers onto the surface or dipping it into the river. This gesture is an acknowledgment that well-being arises from harmony. The community raises hands skyward in collective prayer while chanting the phrase "Nagaa, nagaa!" (Peace, peace!) -– a communal affirmation of the sought-after balance.

Thus, Irreecha operates both as a ritual practice and as a form of indigenous knowledge, encoding ecological awareness and ethical reciprocity in social form.

The celebration in the capital, however, has generated a range of interpretations. For some, it signifies cultural resurgence; for others, its visibility raises questions of secular appropriation or potential tension.

As Serawit Debele (2023) discusses in Locating Politics in Ethiopia’s Irreecha Ritual, these interpretations often emerge from the "urban gaze," which seeks to organize, standardize, or aestheticize the ritual to fit metropolitan expectations. In such framings, Irreecha is largely examined as an object within urban order: analyzed for how it appears, rather than for what it perceives.

However, it is here that the critical intention lies: it is far more compelling to reverse that gaze and ask what Irreecha, as a living philosophy of relation and gratitude, might perceive in the city itself, and what it reveals about the human–environment relationship at the heart of urban life.

Modern cities are largely built upon a human–centered philosophy. As Lewis Mumford (1961) observed, modern urbanism tends to treat nature as a "subordinate element," molded to fit the requirements of growth and utility. Even in Addis Ababa's recent greening efforts, nature is integrated as a visual amenity or resource, not as a co-creator of urban life.

By positioning nature as the principal actor, Irreecha disrupts this conventional hierarchy of urban perception. Rivers, fountains, and open grounds are not mere backdrops for human display; they are sentient participants in a relational exchange. The ritual acts of the people highlight this: the communal chanting, the rhythmic sirba (songs and dances), and the collective movement transform the urban setting. The city’s features, including its scale, layout, and orderliness, are measured by the eyes of the environment.

The city is momentarily reoriented during the festival: spatial hierarchies dissolve, and infrastructures designed to dominate are experienced as collaborators. Humans are both observers and observed, co-agents in a dynamic network. This ecological-social convergence aligns with the work of Bruno Latour (2005), who argues that influence is distributed across networks of human and nonhuman actors.

The infrastructure of Addis Ababa—its roads, fountains, and streets—becomes active collaborators in the festival's unfolding. They guide the collective procession of people to the water, hold collective memory (as with the 2016 tragedy), and structure experience. Gratitude is extended beyond humans and ecological elements to include these material participants: the city itself becomes a field of relational attention, where ethical recognition circulates through all actors that enable life and ritual. In this way, Irreecha enacts a humanized version of Latour's theory, revealing urban space as a co-constructed moral and ecological landscape.

Ultimately, it is a matter of perspective. Both Irreecha and the city may find space to acknowledge one another, opening a possibility rarely afforded in everyday life. Addis Ababa, usually swept up in unceasing movement, pauses for a day; its streets, plazas, fountains, and pathways become participants in a shared rhythm.