

Five days ago, I arrived in Mombasa, a city whose rhythm is shaped by the sea, the scent of salt, and the quiet resilience of its people.
I came seeking rest, reflection and writing inspiration,
hoping to momentarily escape the noise of political disillusionment back home
in Zimbabwe.
But within three days, the news broke: Raila Amolo
Odinga, Kenya’s revered former Prime Minister, had passed away in an Indian
hospital.
The timing felt surreal, almost symbolic.
Here I was, a Zimbabwean visitor in a coastal city
steeped in history, suddenly swept into the collective mourning of a nation
bidding farewell to one of Africa’s most consequential statesmen.
Raila’s death stirred something deep within me, not
merely as an observer of African politics, but as someone who has long admired
his courage, his intellect, and his unyielding commitment to reform.
Known affectionately as Baba and Agwambo, Railaa was more
than a politician, but a symbol.
To the Luo people, his ethnic kin, he was a patriarch and
a firebrand, and to the average Kenyan, he was a unifier, a reformist and an
influential pro-democracy champion.
In my view, his
legacy is etched into the very architecture of Kenya’s political evolution.
Continental Blueprint
As a Zimbabwean, I cannot help but reflect on the
profound influence Odinga had on our own political landscape.
In 2009, Zimbabwe entered a Government of National Unity,
a fragile but necessary arrangement that bore the fingerprints of Raila’s
counsel.
The late Morgan Tsvangirai, our opposition leader at the
time, reportedly spent hours on the phone with Odinga, seeking guidance on
navigating the treacherous waters of power-sharing and constitutional reform.
Raila’s insights, drawn from his own experience in
Kenya’s tumultuous political terrain, helped shape the contours of Zimbabwe’s
brief experiment with inclusive governance.
Yet today, Zimbabwe’s opposition movement lies in
disarray. In the last three years, it has become increasingly disjointed,
lacking both ideological clarity and strategic cohesion.
The current crop of opposition leaders seems to have lost
the compass that once pointed toward democratic renewal.
Raila’s legacy, his sacrifices, his strategic endurance,
should have been a blueprint. Instead, it feels like a forgotten manuscript
gathering dust in the archives of missed opportunities.
Beyond
Borders
Raila’s influence extended far beyond Kenya and Zimbabwe.
In Zambia, opposition movements drew inspiration from his ability to galvanise
mass support and challenge entrenched systems.
In Uganda, youthful leaders like Bobi Wine echo Odinga’s
defiance, though without the institutional scaffolding that Odinga
painstakingly built over decades.
His international stature was undeniable; he was a
frequent guest at global forums, a respected voice in Pan-African dialogues,
and a symbol of democratic resilience.
Still, like many African leaders, Odinga leaves behind a
mixed legacy.
His tribal leanings and the political violence
occasionally condoned by his supporters, predominantly from his Luo ethnic
group, cannot be ignored.
These are uncomfortable truths, but they are part of the
full portrait. Leadership, especially in Africa, is rarely without
contradiction.
Raila’s ability to pacify and extinguish political volatility
during Kenya’s most tumultuous periods, particularly in the lead-up to the
Government of National Unity, stands as a testament to his strategic brilliance
and his commitment to national stability.
The
People’s Mourning
During my time in Mombasa, I spoke with a tuk-tuk driver,
a member of the Luo tribe, who spoke of Odinga with glowing admiration.
“He was our voice,” he said.
“He made us believe we mattered.” His words were not
rehearsed; they were heartfelt.
This national mourning, this collective embrace of
Odinga’s legacy, is a lesson to other African countries.
In Zimbabwe, the late Morgan Tsvangirai was denied full
recognition by the sitting government
In Uganda, Bobi Wine continues to face systemic
marginalisation.
Raila’s passing shows that opposition leaders, when
embraced by the people, deserve state recognition, not state erasure.
Lessons
for the future
Raila’s life was a masterclass in sacrifice, strategic
pivots, and the relentless pursuit of democratic reform.
He understood that credibility is earned through
suffering, that leadership requires both defiance and diplomacy, and that
movements must be built on institutions, not personalities.
Yet, like many of his peers, Raila did not leave behind a
clear succession plan. He did not write memoirs to guide future generations.
This absence is not just a personal oversight; it is a
continental crisis.
Without institutional memory, opposition movements risk
becoming ephemeral, vulnerable to fragmentation and co-optation.
Africa’s opposition leaders must learn from Raila’s
playbook, not just his firebrand rhetoric, but his long game.
They must build movements that outlive their charisma,
invest in civic education, and cultivate leadership pipelines.
They must resist the temptation to become messianic
figures and instead become architects of democratic continuity.
Personal
Reflection
As I reflect on Raila’s life, I think of Izzy and Penny,
my young daughters, young minds who will one day inherit the continent we shape
today.
Raila’s story is a lesson in leadership, resistance, and
African political history. It is a tale of how one man, armed with conviction
and community, can bend the arc of history.
It is also a cautionary tale: the absence of continuity
leaves movements exposed. Izzy and Penny must learn that leadership is not just
about charisma, it is about legacy.
Like most of us, Raila Odinga was not perfect. But he was
necessary. He was the kind of leader whose imperfections were outweighed by his
impact.
His death is not just a Kenyan loss; it is an African
moment of reckoning.
As we mourn Baba, let us also mourn the missed
opportunities to learn from him, to emulate him, and to institutionalise his
wisdom.
May his legacy be
a mirror to our failures and a map to our future.













