By Dr Reuben Kigame
“The years of our life are seventy, or eighty if we are strong; but they are filled with struggle and sorrow, for they quickly pass away.” (Psalm 90:10).
I met him only a couple of times, mostly during funerals, and I wish the meeting that was being planned between us had materialised.
I recall Raila Amolo Odinga as a jovial, simple person who cared deeply about others, even finding time to attend the burial services of some of my relatives, such as those in the Onduto and Oywaya families.
He was a husband to Ida, a father to Fidel, a member of parliament for the people of Kibera, a dangerous and treasonous citizen to former Kenya President Daniel Arap Moi, a fellow prisoner to those he was detained with, Mtu wa Vitendawili (the riddle man) and mchawi (witch) to Dr William Ruto, a friend to the late John Magufuli, and to me and many Kenyans, he was the enigmatic embodiment of multiparty democracy, resilience and nationalism, or simply “Baba.”
In the past five elections in which he vied for the presidency, I voted for him three times, and in 2022 I decided to run against him and the others because I believed the older crop of leaders had lost touch with the people and with values.
I thought it was time to move Kenya to a reboot and entrench a new philosophy of Utu, Haki and Maadili.
He fought for justice and always dreamed of a better Kenya, Canaan as he liked to call it.
According to the verse above, he was a strong man, because he made it to eighty, having been born in 1945 and died in 2025.
Those who loved him, like me, must sorrow and give a befitting send-off to this great Pan-Africanist, but also accept that he was not perfect and hopefully learn from his mistakes.
Let the twenty-one gun salute be given, for he deserves it more than many African leaders, living and departed.
Yet we must let him go and indeed rest in peace, believing that he had the opportunity to make peace with God, the giver of life.
He confessed many times that one of his greatest companions while in detention was the Bible, and he quoted from it several times.
May the God of the Bible help him home and hold the trembling hands of the family and all who loved him dearly.
The lessons
There are many lessons we can learn from the life and times of the Right Honourable Raila Amolo Odinga, and everyone can share theirs, but I have four: life is short; we must live our lives with a purpose; every leader must mentor others and pass on the baton, and it is important to finish well.
I would like to offer a few reflections on each of these lessons.
First, life is truly short. We raise money in WhatsApp groups to support the burial of friends and relatives, yet often imagine that we are immune from that same money being raised for us.
Many people, especially politicians, regularly forget the brevity of life, imagining and even believing that power, money and crowds can insulate them from death.
They live large, trample on others, enjoy the big cars, the clearing of traffic for them, travel, partying and meetings, forgetting that in the end they will breathe their last and their souls will return from whence they came.
When striking business deals, enjoying romantic relationships, travelling around the world for conferences with NGOs, preaching every Sunday or chasing artistic celebrity and online views, it is easy to imagine that we will be here forever, but that is not the case. Only God is eternal; none of us is.
Alphaville’s 1984 hit “Forever Young” remains a hauntingly profound reflection on the fleeting nature of youth and the longing for permanence. Among its verses, the song asks:
“ Forever young I want to be forever young
Do you really want to live forever?
Forever and ever…
Some are like water,
Some are like the heat
Some are a melody
and some are the beat Sooner or later,
they all will be gone
Why don’t they stay young?”
It continues with evocative lines about fading dreams, lost adventures, and the desire to remain vibrant and purposeful.
The lyrics remind us that youth, like diamonds in the sun, is precious—and that the dreams we neglect today may never return.
Living with Purpose
We must live with intention. But do we truly know our purpose? Why are we alive today? What legacy will you leave behind? Whether in primary school, college, your estate or workplace, everyone is remembered for something.
Legacies—both noble and regrettable—exist everywhere. What will yours be?
In 1874, Frances Ridley Havergal penned a hymn that many still sing today:
“Take my life and let it be Consecrated,
Lord, to Thee…
Take my will and make it
Thine, It shall be no longer mine…
Take my silver and my gold,
Not a mite would I withhold…
Take my intellect and use
Every power as Thou shalt choose.”
This is a prayer of surrender, of purpose, of living for something greater than oneself.
Raila Odinga exemplified singleness of purpose. He committed himself to democratic freedom, national liberation, and governance rooted in the rule of law.
His mission was justice. Yet, in his twilight years, many felt he strayed from that path.
Still, one truth remains: those who discover their purpose rarely die with regret. They depart saying, “I have done my best.”
Mentorship and Legacy
Leadership demands more than charisma—it requires mentorship. Leaders must raise successors and pass on the baton.
To be candid, this is an area where the late Raila Odinga faltered. His influence was immense, but it revolved largely around his own persona. It is difficult to discern who might carry forward his mantle.
I deeply admire how many Asian families nurture their children into professional paths from a young age.
By 18, a child has often apprenticed in the family shop, factory or business.
This culture of mentorship is something I wish we saw more of among our own leaders and professionals.
Finishing Well
A side concern remains: how Raila concluded his journey. He spent considerable time in Kibera, Lang’ata and across Africa, yet seemed to neglect Nyanza—his home region, where many idolised him and were willing to sacrifice for his cause. His ideals should have resonated more deeply there.
Steve Green’s song “Find Us Faithful” captures this sentiment beautifully:
“ O may all who come behind us find us faithful; May the fire of our devotion light their way; May the footprints that we leave Lead them to believe, And the lives we live inspire them to obey.”
It is not enough to begin well or work smart—we must finish well.
No athlete runs a brilliant race only to stumble at the finish line.
Imagine a novel without a final chapter, or a dissertation with no conclusion.
As a university lecturer, I often see excellent papers undermined by weak endings.
If there is one area in which Raila disappointed Kenya, it was in how he finished.
Many feel betrayed by his silence in his final years—especially the youth, who needed his voice against the Finance Bill, impunity, corruption, abductions and killings.
He was notably quiet when Tanzania denied entry to Hon Martha Karua and former Chief Justice Willy Mutunga, who sought to stand with Tundu Lissu.
We also hoped he would speak out against the mistreatment of activist Boniface Mwangi and the arrest of Kizza Besigye.
In my 2002 song “Ombi Langu”, I sing:
“Siku nyingi nimetumika kwa kazi yako Bwana, Lakini sitaki Bwana nikose kuona wewe.”
Translated: “I have served You for many years, Lord, but I do not want to miss seeing You.” It is a prayer not to falter at the end of the Christian race.
Whatever you make of Raila’s life, whatever lessons you draw, remember this: finish well.
In conclusion, life is short. Discover your purpose and live by it. Mentor others and pass on the baton. And above all, do not merely fight well—finish well.
- Dr. Kigame is eyeing Kenya’s presidency in 2027