NAIROBI, Kenya — In every democracy, there comes a moment when the symbol of a movement must give way to its substance.
For Kenya’s opposition, that moment has arrived. Whether in absence or transition, Raila Odinga’s towering presence — for decades the compass of dissent and defiance — now forces a reckoning: can the opposition survive without Baba at its helm?
For more than 40 years, Odinga has been the face and force of resistance politics, a figure whose rallies, rhetoric, and resolve defined the country’s political heartbeat.
His imprint runs deep — from the dark years of single-party repression to the dawn of multiparty democracy, from the 2007–2008 coalition government to the 2018 handshake that reshaped political discourse.
But the Kenya he leaves behind is one where loyalty to personalities often eclipses loyalty to ideals. The question now is whether his movement can evolve from a name into a sustainable vision.
Political analysts say that the first test for the opposition will be organizational survival. ODM and the broader Azimio la Umoja coalition must quickly manage succession without splintering. While names like Kalonzo Musyoka, Martha Karua, Hassan Joho, and Wycliffe Oparanya have been floated as possible successors, none commands Odinga’s charisma or cross-regional legitimacy.
“This is where structure must replace symbolism,” notes Dr. Linda Musumba, a governance expert. “ODM has to prove that it was built on values, not just a personality cult.”
The second challenge is ideological renewal. Odinga’s politics were anchored in reform and justice, but at times his coalition was reactive — defined by what it opposed more than what it stood for.
The opposition’s next generation must articulate a coherent policy agenda that speaks to Kenya’s evolving realities: youth unemployment, debt, corruption, climate change, and regional insecurity. “It’s not enough to shout ‘change,’” says Nairobi-based political commentator Brian Wanyama. “They must define what that change looks like in concrete, believable terms.”
The third task lies in reimagining engagement. Under Odinga, street mobilization was the lifeblood of opposition activism. The coming era may require subtler tools — digital advocacy, parliamentary leverage, civic education, and strategic alliances that move beyond protest politics. To remain relevant, opposition parties will need to master both the language of the street and the language of governance.
Perhaps the most crucial lesson Baba leaves behind is moral: that conviction can outlast victory. Even after five failed presidential bids, Odinga’s influence never waned because he embodied struggle itself.
His resilience turned defeat into legitimacy; his persistence made politics a vocation rather than a career. For young reformists entering public life, that legacy may be his most enduring gift — a reminder that politics can still serve principle.
If the next generation learns that lesson, then Raila Odinga’s movement will not die with him. It will morph — from personality to principle, from protest to policy, from memory to mission. In that transformation lies the true measure of his legacy, and perhaps the rebirth of Kenya’s opposition itself.
