
Tears and wails tore through the quiet morning at Opoda Farm
in Bondo as news of Raila Amollo Odinga’s death spread like wildfire.
From all corners of the village and beyond, people poured
into his ancestral home, men, women, and children, their faces streaked with
tears, their hearts heavy with disbelief.
Barefoot women wrapped in lessos knelt on the dusty compound, pounding their
chests and crying uncontrollably.
Some rolled on the ground, screaming his name, calling him
“Baba,” unable to accept that the man they saw as their father and hope was
gone.
Old men leaned on walking sticks, their trembling hands
wiping silent tears, while the young seemed confused but sensing the weight of
loss.
The air was thick with sorrow, a haunting blend of sobs, prayers, and the
sound of women singing dirges in trembling voices.
Inside the homestead, every corner spoke of mourning.
Groups huddled together, consoling one another as the sun
sank slowly behind the acacia trees.
At Opoda, it was not just the death of a man, it was the
breaking of a nation’s heart.