They say history is written by those who win elections. But sometimes, history is written in the hearts of those who lose them again and again yet never lose the people. Raila Amollo Odinga was one such man.
And now, as Kenya mourns, the man who carried the hopes of a nation, who bled for democracy, who stood in the storm when others sought shelter is no more.
Raila did not just enter politics he embodied it. Not for power. Not for wealth. But for the people. From the dungeons of detention to the podiums of protest, he stood tall when it was dangerous to stand at all. He was the voice of the voiceless, the conscience of a country that too often forgot its own.
He gave Kenya his youth, his freedom, his family’s peace and still, not once. Not twice. But time and again. And now, they weep. Because the man they denied is the man they now praise.
Raila’s influence was never confined to Kenya. He was a son of Africa. A statesman whose wisdom echoed in Addis Ababa, whose courage inspired Kampala, whose vision stirred the hearts of young Pan-Africanists.
Now, the chants have faded. The rallies will be quiet. The man who once electrified crowds with a single word “Baba!” lies still. And in that stillness, Kenya is forced to reckon with a truth it long refused to face: The right man was always there.
Today, Kenyans across the globe post tributes, light candles, and whisper regrets. But it is too late. The ballot will never bear his name again. The State House gates will never open for him. Life on earth is over, but Kenyans will live with his dream.
Rest in peace, Baba.
You were the president Kenya never had. And now, never will.
Written by Omecha Eminat (Ateker Son)
