The End of an Era, the Start of Another: Kenya’s Gen Z Remembers Raila Odinga

When Kenyan youth first took to the streets in 2024 to oppose the government’s Finance Bill, a video of a Gen Z protester went viral.

In it, Anita Barasa looked straight into the camera and addressed Raila “Baba” Odinga, Kenya’s former Prime Minister and longtime opposition leader.

“[Raila], this is a message to you…Don’t come [to the protests]. Please stay at home. We saw your efforts; we saw everything you did for Kenya. Now let us,” she said. “We miss you, but… please don’t even come outside. [We are coming out] on your behalf, okay?”

Her words struck a nerve because they signaled a changing of the guard. After decades of leading Kenya’s fight for justice and reform, her message to Odinga was clear: this was no longer his fight.

“I am a proud father today! [Congratulations] to the young lady and all those who bravely stood up for their rights,” Odinga tweeted in response.

For decades, Odinga embodied resistance. He had been jailed without trial, exiled, and betrayed, yet remained a pillar in Kenya’s democratic struggle. But in 2024, as a new generation led the most energized protest movement in decades, Odinga found himself on the outside.

What began as a push against the Finance Bill soon became a national reckoning. Protests grew into widespread demands for accountability over governance, police brutality, and unequal economic policies. The government responded violently. Hundreds were killed. Others were kidnapped.

So when Odinga signed a memorandum of understanding with President William Ruto to form a so-called broad-based government, many Gen Z saw it as a betrayal. Indeed, it was a painful reminder that even heroes can become part of the establishment they once fought.

Just over a year later, those same youths were left to reckon with Odinga’s legacy after his burial this past weekend. Kenya paused to mourn a man bigger than party or politics, and larger than the presidency he never held.

His death was personal for many. But for Gen Z — a generation that has marched, grieved, and fought for its voice — the loss was far more complicated.

Activist Hanifa Adan captured that emotional divide in a national op-ed: “For older Kenyans, Raila’s death marked the end of an era. For Gen Z, it has forced a reckoning. How do we balance respect for his struggle with the pain of his perceived silence when we needed him most?”

She continued: “But maybe that’s where the generational gap truly lies. Our parents understood survival. They lived through times when defiance could cost you everything — your life, your family, your freedom. To them, his decision was about preserving the country, avoiding anarchy, and finding a way forward. But for us, who have inherited a broken system that thrives on negotiation at the expense of justice, that same move felt like a repetition of history and the kind that always ends with the youth paying the price.”

For Nairobi-based photographer Emmaculate Jacobine, that reckoning came into sharp focus as she attended Odinga’s memorial public viewing in Nairobi. Her images — raw, intimate, and unfiltered — captured his final public tribute, and the faces of Kenyans feeling the uncertainty of life without Odinga.

Alongside her photos, Jacobine shared a deeply personal tribute on Instagram.

“Growing up in a household where Raila was mentioned with so much reverence, I often heard my mom ask, ‘Na Raila amesema aje?’ That question wasn’t strange to me because everyone around us would ask the same. What did Baba say?”

“Now that we’ve laid you to rest, one thing stands clear: you lived for the people,” she wrote. “You fought for justice. You gave your all so that generations could live in a freer, fairer Kenya.”

And now, one question lingers: who will pick up his mantle?