The 2007 post-election violence and my enduring love for Raila

Raila Odinga's children lay wreaths at his gravein Kang'o ka Jaramogi, Bondo, Siaya County. [PCS] During the heat of the 2022 elections, a lady I often engaged with online, someone I respected professionally, though we had never met, sent me a message. We were on opposite political sides. She wanted to know why I supported the Azimio camp, and specifically, why I stood with Raila Amolo Odinga. She told me I seemed like "a reasonable person, calm, God fearing and cultured," and she couldn't reconcile that with my political choice. I never replied. Her message carried an assumption that I found both ignorant and profoundly ill-informed. But more than that, I didn't know what to say. I felt then, as I do now, that anyone my age or older who didn't understand why many of us followed Raila could never truly be convinced. I could have written a whole book, and it still wouldn't have made sense to her. Since Baba's passing, I have thought often about that conversation. Seeing the outpouring of grief, the tributes, the raw emotion and heartfelt stories that have followed, I hope, finally, she understands. Still, I feel compelled to share one moment that cemented Baba's place in my then young, impressionable heart. I hope she gets to read this. The post-election violence of 2007 found me in one of the cities in Rift Valley. Fresh from college, I was interning at this great financial institution that promised growth professionally. The December election had been tense, and when President Mwai Kibaki was sworn in one night late in December, protests erupted across the country, especially in places where Raila enjoyed strong support. What began as peaceful demonstrations over a disputed election quickly turned into ethnic violence. People were targeted for their last names. I hadn't voted that year, yet by virtue of my community's perceived political alignment, we became "enemies of democracy." One January morning in 2008, some of my colleagues went out on a field assignment only to call the office two hours later in distress. They had been stopped at a roadblock by young men demanding to see ID cards. Anyone with the "wrong" name was ordered out of the vehicle. My colleagues stayed together, pleading and negotiating until they were released, after paying something. When they returned, shaken, we, the interns, were told to stay home until it was safe. From our homes, we watched smoke fill the air as homes burned. Women and children fled in terror. The country was falling apart. Everyone looked to Baba, the leader of the aggrieved side, a man whose victory had been "stolen", to call off the madness. But by then, the protests had been hijacked. While he could and did call for peace, he wasn't in control of the chaos. It was a relief when Kofi Annan and his team arrived to mediate. Each day, we waited anxiously for news of a truce. And then, on February 28, 2008, it came. Kibaki and Raila signed the power-sharing agreement that birthed the Grand Coalition Government. At great personal and political cost, Baba chose peace. He could have insisted on what he believed was his rightful victory, but instead, he put the country first. That is the Baba I knew, the one I respected. Looking back, a lot of us understand his decisions better. Some of them hurt us. We felt betrayed or abandoned other times. Yet in hindsight, it is clear that there was no selfish bone in him when it came to Kenya. He loved this country enough to bear misunderstanding. To let go of that ultimate prize, the presidency, again and again. A friend the other day said, "If only Baba could come back for a day, so we could tell him we finally understand." But that's not how life works. Still, I hope he didn't leave us feeling unappreciated or unloved. Because we did love him, deeply. Even as I mourn, I am grateful I lived in his time. When history is written, those who come after us will wish they had known him: The man, the enigma, the legend who walked among us with valour. The throne may be empty but the King lives on.

The 2007 post-election violence and my enduring love for Raila

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