DispatchesThe sun had barely risen on October 15 when Kenya awoke to the shocking news that its veteran leader, Raila Odinga, had died while in India at the age of 80. According to hospital officials in Kerala, he suffered a heart attack during a morning walk.
From that moment, the country entered mourning—not just for the man, but for the era he symbolised. As the afternoon progressed and the news took hold, thousands gathered at his Nairobi residence, waving twigs (a traditional symbol of respect and unity) and Kenyan flags, grieving deeply for “Baba,” as he was fondly known.
By October 16, his body had been flown back on a Kenya Airways special-flight, with thousands braving airport security at (JKIA) in Nairobi to pay their respects. The arrival ceremony, meant to be solemn and orderly, was briefly halted as mourners surged forward, overwhelmed with emotion, forcing operations to pause for nearly two hours. That moment of chaos was a stark reflection of just how deeply Odinga’s presence had permeated the national psyche.
On Friday, October 17, a state funeral was held at Nyayo National Stadium. Odinga’s coffin lay draped in the national flag, his signature fedora hat resting on top—a personal flourish for a figure whose public life was at times dramatic, yet whose identity remained rooted in grassroots. Despite such a carefully planned ceremony, tragedy struck: a stampede during the public viewing left at least two dead and over 100 injured, a jarring note amid the solemnity.
On October 19, his body was laid to rest in his ancestral home in Bondo, Siaya County, fulfilling his wish to be buried within 72 hours of death.
From his early days as the son of Kenya’s first vice president to his decades as opposition leader, Odinga’s story is woven deeply into the nation’s democratic fabric. He ran for the presidency five times—never succeeding, yet never fading from public view. He served as prime minister in the 2008–2013 unity government during Kenya’s worst post-election violence, playing a key role in ushering in the 2010 Constitution.
Internationally, he was regarded as a pan-African voice and a mediator in regional political disputes. His legacy includes his tireless advocacy for multiparty democracy and his persistence in the face of detention, political setbacks, and electoral defeats. To many Kenyans, he represented the enduring voice of the “second liberation”—the struggle for a more inclusive and accountable state.
Domestic leaders responded with a mix of solemnity and urgency. President William Ruto declared a seven-day national mourning period, ordered flags flown at half-mast, and described Odinga as a “once-in-a-generation leader…a giant of democracy.” Kenyans from all walks of life gathered in mourning—many in the capital, many more in western Kenya, his political heartland. Some chanted joyfully, others wept quietly.
International tributes poured in. Former US President Barack Obama, French President Emmanuel Macron, and numerous African heads of state lauded Odinga’s leadership, his push for good governance, and his pan-African vision. The African Union, the Intergovernmental Authority on Development (IGAD), and other regional bodies also recognized his contributions.
Odinga’s death raises an important question: what comes next the political influence he wielded? His movement, the Orange Democratic Movement (ODM), must now navigate leadership succession without its longtime front man. His absence leaves a void in moral authority and mobilizing energy for both civil society and the broader opposition.
Kenya stands at a crossroads. With constitutional reforms, electoral oversight, and governance still under strain, the mantle passes to others to carry forward Odinga’s ideals: fair competition, inclusive politics, and accountability. As the 2027 elections loom on the horizon, new leaders will emerge without Odinga’s guiding presence, shifting alliances and potentially reshaping Kenyan politics.
The state apparatus Odinga helped reform will now face the test of sustaining his momentum. His legacy is tangible, but not self-sustaining. The challenge lies in turning memory into momentum so that reform deepens rather than regresses.
In many ways, the funeral was not just a farewell, but a reflection of Kenya’s collective emotion: hope, grief, passion, and pain. As Odinga’s coffin was lowered in Bondo, the country watched and wondered: will the many Kenyans who cried out for “Baba” close the chapter and say goodbye, or will they carry on his fight for a more just and democratic Kenya? For Kenya, this moment is both an ending and a beginning.
Provided to JURIST
Provided to JURIST
