The passing of Raila Amolo Odinga, Baba, as we fondly called him, has left a deep void in the soul of this nation. Kenya has lost not just a political icon, but a moral compass, a man whose life’s work was the pursuit of justice, democracy and the freedom of the common person.
I have had the honour, albeit in a few but deeply impactful moments, to engage with Baba and each encounter left me challenged, inspired and more determined to stay the course in the struggle for human rights.
The last time I was with Baba was on June 4, 2024, when I invited him to be the chief guest at the Pan-African Conference hosted by VOCAL Africa, which was held at the Argyle Hotel in Nairobi. Despite his busy schedule, he honoured the invitation, walking into the room with his characteristic calm confidence and the presence that always commanded both respect and affection.
Before his keynote address, we had a few quiet moments together to discuss the state of human rights in our country. Baba listened keenly, as he always did and then looked at me with that familiar firmness in his eyes.
“Hussein,” he said, “you must stay the course. The struggle for human rights is not a sprint; it’s a lifelong crusade. Eternal vigilance is necessary.” “You see,” he added, “freedom, once achieved, must be defended constantly. If you sleep, those who fear justice will reclaim it.” That was vintage Raila - never mincing words, always reminding us that democracy is not a gift from leaders but a duty of citizens.
That was not our only encounter. One of my earlier and memorable meetings with Baba was several years earlier in Mombasa. At the time, we were leading the Black Mondays movement, which was a citizen initiative resisting the monopoly of the Standard Gauge Railway (SGR) that threatened to cripple the coastal economy and disempower local businesses. Baba had travelled to the Coast and requested to meet with us.
He walked into the meeting with his trademark simplicity, no entourage of arrogance, no pretense of superiority. Just a leader eager to listen and to engage.
He told us, “We must protect our state enterprises but they must serve the people, not a few powerful interests.” He expressed deep concern about the economic marginalisation of the Coast and assured us that he fully supported our struggle to defend both parastatals and the region’s interests.
At one point during that meeting, he pulled me aside privately. He wanted to know my personal views on the local political dynamics at the time. It struck me that for a man of his stature, he still made time to listen, to learn and to connect with younger activists and leaders. That humility, rare in our politics, is part of what made Baba extraordinary.
Yet, even in the midst of admiration, I must admit that I was deeply disappointed by one of his final political decisions — his choice to join the government at the height of the Gen Z protests. Like many Kenyans out there, I did not believe it was the right move. It felt like a betrayal of the independent spirit that had defined him for decades.
It is my firm belief that an opposition must remain an opposition, a necessary counterbalance to power, not a partner in it. When opposition goes to bed with the government, democracy suffers. Accountability weakens. The people lose their voice.
Baba’s greatness was built on his ability to stand firm against the excesses of power, and so his decision to embrace the “broad-based government” was, to many of us, a difficult moment to reconcile with the ideals he embodied for so long.
As I reflect on these interactions, one truth stands out — Raila was driven not by self-interest, but by conviction. He believed, with every fibre of his being, that Kenya could become a nation of justice and opportunity for all. He gave everything — his youth, his health, his peace — to the dream of a better Kenya.
It is however, ironic that even during his buria,l when we gather to celebrate his lifelong struggle for justice, as leaders stand on podiums to praise him, they ignore the cries of families whose loved ones were killed during the same event. Leaders speak eloquently about Raila’s ideals of justice but remain silent as innocent lives are lost.
If Raila were alive today and lives were taken during the burial of any leader, he would have been the first to condemn it. He would have called for justice, demanded accountability and stood with the families of the victims. That is who he was, consistent, fearless, principled. To praise him while ignoring the very injustice he stood against is the height of hypocrisy. Kenya must not allow this selective morality to define his legacy.
Fare thee well, Baba. You ran your race with grace, you bore our pain with courage and you lit a torch that will continue to guide generations to come. Kenya will remember you not just as a politician, but as a liberator of hearts and a champion of justice. May your soul rest in eternal peace.
Human rights activist, lawyer and VOCAL Africa CEO
