Kenyans awoke to the sudden news of Raila Odinga’s death with disbelief. In Nairobi, the capital, flags flew at half-staff as President William Ruto declared seven days of mourning and vowed a state funeral, calling the loss “immense and immeasurable”. At Odinga’s Karen home and at Nyayo Stadium during his state funeral, crowds fell silent in tribute.
Supporters draped the Luo patriarch’s coffin in Kenya’s flag, while thousands lined up to view it, waving white handkerchiefs and blowing vuvuzelas in honor of the man they affectionately called “Baba” (father). The scenes were wrenching but not entirely peaceful: security forces fired warning shots to control frenzied mourners at a viewing, and a stampede at the stadium later killed at least two people and injured scores more.
THE MAN WHO REFUSED TO QUIT
Odinga’s life was itself a political saga of dogged persistence. The son of Kenya’s first vice-president, Jaramogi Oginga Odinga, he grew up in the corridors of power. In the 1980s he emerged as a fierce critic of President Daniel arap Moi’s one-party rule. After a 1982 coup attempt, young Raila was arrested, accused of treason (charges were later dropped) and spent roughly nine years in prison, six of them in solitary confinement. He returned to Kenya in the early 1990s as multiparty democracy was taking hold, winning a parliamentary seat and quickly becoming a leading opposition voice.
Over the next three decades he made five bids for the presidency (1997, 2007, 2013, 2017, 2022), each time rallying massive crowds. Throughout, he was revered as a tireless campaigner: supporters nicknamed him “Baba” (father) and “Agwambo” (mysterious one) for his mystique, even as critics accused him of exploiting ethnic loyalties.
Odinga’s ability to negotiate with former rivals was legendary, he forged deals with President Uhuru Kenyatta and even William Ruto, even while opponents charged he traded tribal influence for power. He famously asserted in 2017 that if a government was undemocratic, “the people are justified to resist” it, a stance that won him plaudits from pro-democracy activists.
KENYA’S POLITICAL IDENTITY THROUGH RAILA
Odinga helped shape Kenya’s very sense of politics. His activism was pivotal in returning the country to multiparty democracy in 1991 and in pushing through a new constitution in 2010. Yet he also became a symbol of Kenya’s ethnic tensions. In 2007, as the joint opposition candidate, he courted support across tribal lines – Luos, Kalenjins and others rallied behind him – and drew huge crowds at his rallies. But his narrow official loss that year provoked a deadly backlash: hundreds were killed in post-election violence along ethnic lines between Odinga’s Luo heartland and President Mwai Kibaki’s Kikuyu supporters.
Likewise in 2017, he took Kenya’s legal system to the brink: the Supreme Court annulled the vote he disputed (the first such ruling in Africa), though he later boycotted the repeat election. In the end, Odinga never became president, but for many Kenyans his struggle produced a more open political system. His name became shorthand for the fight over reforms, from campaign finance to corruption and his campaigns forced the country to confront the limits of tribal arithmetic in its democracy.
AFRICA’S RELUCTANT REVOLUTIONARY
Beyond Kenya, Odinga was seen as part of a generation of African leaders who challenged entrenched rule. At home he was arguably the most important political figure of his generation in Kenya. A Nigerian commentator described his “larger-than-Kenya Africanist spirit,” placing him alongside continental reformers “like Nyerere, Sankara, and Mandela” who taught Africa that the struggle for freedom is “generational, not episodic”. Though he never again led Kenya as president, Odinga took on continental roles (including as an AU envoy) and lent his name to broader causes.
Across borders he was admired like Zimbabwe’s Morgan Tsvangirai or Uganda’s Kizza Besigye, men who challenged dictators and endured jail, showing that one could wield power by insisting on democratic change even from the opposition. In death, many Africans paid tribute to Odinga as a trailblazer whose battles helped redefine what political resistance could look like on the continent.
THE VACUUM
Odinga’s passing immediately raised questions about who, if anyone, can inherit his mantle. His death leaves a leadership vacuum in the opposition, with Kenya heading into a potentially volatile 2027 election. Odinga had been the undisputed face of the Azimio la Umoja coalition. But that alliance was already crumbling: by 2025, Kenya’s main opposition party (Odinga’s ODM) was sharing government power, and Martha Karua’s new party had split off, leading one analyst to quip that “Azimio exists in name only” under Wiper leader Kalonzo Musyoka.
In Odinga’s absence, Kalonzo and partners quickly moved in. In recent weeks the Wiper leader even proclaimed himself Azimio’s head, and he has since declared a presidential bid for 2027 alongside DAP-K’s Eugene Wamalwa as running mate. Other veterans from Martha Karua to NARC-Kenya’s Martha Wangari are now forced to decide whether to pursue their own ambitions or unite under a new banner. The enduring question is whether any will command the same popular loyalty Odinga did across ethnic and regional lines.
THE FUTURE OF THE OPPOSITION
Looking ahead, Kenya’s opposition must reinvent itself. Martha Karua, once Odinga’s running mate, has positioned herself as a reformist elder, even spearheading calls to field single joint candidates to avoid vote-splitting. Kalonzo Musyoka and Eugene Wamalwa have formalized their bid, insiders report they aim to run on a joint ticket in 2027.
Beyond the old guard, a new generation is stirring. Kenya’s Gen Z activists, galvanized by recent social-media-driven protests against taxes and injustice, insist on issue-based politics rather than tribal patronage. Whether this tech-savvy wave will translate into formal votes or a new party remains to be seen. What is clear is that the next chapter of Kenyan opposition could look very different: a contest between legacy politicians fighting over Odinga’s heir and idealistic youth demanding change on jobs, inequality and governance.
In Raila’s death, Kenya has buried not just a man but the idea that opposition could be moral, popular and defiant all at once. His life tested that idea and now a nation seeks to live up to it as it writes the next page of its political history.