
A wave of raw grief washed over Nyayo National Stadium this morning as the body of Raila Odinga was brought in for the state funeral rites. The atmosphere was electric — hushed sobs, trembling voices, and cries of “Baba, why?” merged into a powerful national lament.
As the hearse rolled through the stadium gates at approximately 9:46 a.m., hundreds of mourners had already pressed against barricades, crowding pathways, waving miniature Kenyan flags, and clutching white handkerchiefs. The emotional toll was visible: tears ran freely, some fainted, others held out hands, hoping for one last glimpse.
The Arrival That Stopped the Nation.
The route from Parliament to Nyayo—a stretch through Uhuru Highway—became a moving shrine, as supporters trailing the convoy stood bowing, cameras raised, and wept openly.
When the procession entered the stadium, a wave of emotion floored expectant crowds, prompting bridge-like chants and shouts: “Baba, why?” Many said the phrase not as accusation, but as an anguished plea to a leader whose absence now feels untenable.
Inside the stadium, compartments reserved for dignitaries remained tightly guarded, yet the scent of mourning filled every corner. Between the columns, media crews captured the faces of citizens — men in kitenge, women in widow’s garb, elders with walking sticks, youth in ODM colors — all united in the fragility of the moment.
Tears as Testament: Grief, Politics, and Destiny.
This was not just a funeral procession — it was a public catharsis. Raila, affectionately “Baba,” had for decades occupied a space beyond politics in Kenyan identity — as father, as voice, as sorrow speaker.
The tears today are collective, an emotional accounting of loss, hope, and unanswered questions.Critics and observers alike will speak of the spectacle as a turning point: how politics, ritual, and mass presence intersect. In many ways, this eruption in Nyayo was a barometer — the deep emotional resonance as powerful as any opposition rally or state event.