The media hates a vacuum. Is it now looking for what comes next after Raila Odinga? Is it looking for who fills the huge space that Raila’s death left in the Kenyan psyche? And Oburu Odinga, 82, is not it?
Worse than a vacuum, the media hates dull. Lacklustre doesn’t sell. Media thrives on tension and drama. The Orange Democratic Movement’s founding leader, Raila, was all of that. His newly crowned successor, Oburu, is anything but it. Consciously or not, media is looking for “fresh”.
And, it seems, Winnie Irmgard Odinga, 35, the last-born daughter of Raila, is it. A fresh voice.
Ever since that sombre October morning she climbed down the stairs of that Kenya Airways plane from Mumbai at Jomo Kenyatta International Airport, delicately carrying her father’s fedora like a tabernacle, every single public movement of Winnie is being chronicled — in detail.
The media casts her walking deliberately. No haste. She comes to the microphone and doesn’t start talking right away. She pauses. Her eyes sweep the audience. Just that pause alone lulls a mammoth crowd. She has not once told the crowd to calm down. The people just do. It’s like they want to hear Winnie speak.
When she does, she doesn’t do it in haste. Yet, no MC has dared rush her. No need, anyway, because she keeps it short, sweet. She’ll be gone just when you want to hear more. And her few words will hang on the podium long after she leaves the scene.
“The king is dead, long live the Crown”, she said at her father’s state funeral. It is an illusion, according to British tradition, that the death of the King does not create a vacuum.
During the 20th anniversary celebrations of the Orange Democratic Movement party held November 14–16 at the Mama Ngina Waterfront in Mombasa, Winnie said: “I have heard there are those walking with us during the day but at night they are trying to sell our party. Haiwezekani. ODM is not for sale!”
Gasp. Then, this line, replayed in an endless loop by the media thereafter: “ODM was not born in a boardroom. […] ODM was born in protest, raised in resistance, and the people of ODM have time and time again bled, sweated and shed tears for this country.” And the media eats it all up.
Mombasa stage: enter Winnie
Mombasa was her most definitive stage that showed all of the above.
Day 1: one photo captures her seated with ease in a central, stately chair, upfront. Everyone — even President William Ruto at the oncoming ODM Founders’ Dinner — wears the special-release ODM@20 kofia. Winnie, instead, dons her father’s look-alike, wide-rimmed fedora. On her wrist is her father’s watch. She’s wearing her father’s T-shirt — labelled on the chest: CAPTAIN. In tan khaki trousers, she leans back, one leg casually draped over the other, above the knee, like the alpha male in the room. Around her, everyone, including ODM bigwigs, steals furtive glances at her, apparently nervously checking her out. A camera freezes that moment.
The Star headlines a story: “Winnie Odinga arrives for ODM@20 celebrations”. Youtuber Enock Shikolia, the Kenyan Historian, releases a 10-minute documentary: “Winnie Odinga, the next big thing”.
Day 2: Winnie’s entry. ODM bigwigs are gathered on the VIP podium. The camera zooms in on Winnie, sandwiched by stout, no-nonsense “bodyguards”. At the foot of the podium, as if on cue, they peel off in a perfectly executed choreography. Only one climbs ahead of her to the podium, then melts into the background, to stand watch at her back.
At the podium, the ODM bigwigs watch her entrance. They are ODM chairperson and Homa Bay Governor Gladys Wanga, deputy party leader and Cabinet Secretary Hasan Joho, and secretary general and Nairobi Senator Edwin Sifuna.
One by one, they greet Winnie. Like today’s peers do at a party. They do a swift half-body forward lean, clasping each other’s right hand, which jointly jerks up as the left hand pats the mate’s back. Winnie’s response is cool. Each of the bigwigs is grinning and gleaming. But she carries herself like they need her, not the other way around. Confident. Assured. Deliberate. No rush.
She walks to the mic, grabs it, tests it out. For a deliberate moment, she says nothing. Everyone waits. When she opens her mouth, she says just enough. Then, she exits unexpectedly. Winnie is planting mystery. Humans are drawn to mystery like moths to a lamp in the fire. And media is leading the moths.
Headlines respond
When Mombasa was over, The Standard headline on November 17 was just two bold words: “Raila reincarnate”. Next to a splash photo of Winnie behind the mic, the blurb read: “Winnie Odinga has burst onto the national stage, igniting a succession battle that could redefine — or fracture — the Odinga political empire. […] With Raila gone, ODM faces its most volatile moment in decades: an aging Oburu at the helm, rising factional tensions, and a bold new contender challenging the old order. Winnie’s next moves could determine the party’s future”. Since then, TV and radio interviews, newspaper columns, and social media have not stopped singing this chorus.
Political introduction
Raila left three living children: Rosemary, Raila Junior, and Winnie. Of these, Winnie appears to be deliberately Raila’s most visible child. She was physically and abrasively present in her father’s last presidential campaign in 2022.
Her father’s party then nominated her to the East African Legislative Assembly in Arusha. Winnie calls this a gig, but it’s a deliberate introduction into politics. Then, that phrase, that the father “died in her arms” in India.
In African spirituality, parents often summon their favourite children to their side in their final moments, ostensibly to hand over the mantle. The Daily Nation reiterated this in an October 21 article by Dr Okumba Miruka. The media is building Winnie’s name recognition in Kenyans’ minds. A brand is emerging. And so far, it is selling newspapers.
