One Year After Raila Odinga's Death, ODM Searches for a Path as Kenya's Opposition Faces a Test

Nairobi, Kenya – One year after Raila Odinga's death, the political movement he led for decades is still struggling to define its future. Inside the Orange Democratic Movement (ODM), bitter argument over cooperation with President William Ruto has laid bare divisions over the party's identity and independence. The dispute raises a question that goes beyond who leads ODM: can Kenya's opposition remain a credible force without the man who helped shape it?

Raila's death brought tributes and remembrances for a political career tied to the fight for multiparty democracy, constitutional reform, freedom of expression and social justice. Yet the splits now visible in his party show how hard it is to sustain a political movement built around a dominant figure. His legacy remains an inspiration, but it is also contested ground over what ODM should stand for and how it should exercise power.

At the center of the dispute is the relationship between ODM and Ruto's administration. The removal of Secretary-General Edwin Sifuna – an opponent of closer cooperation with the president – became a flashpoint in the wider battle over the party's direction. The disagreement is not only about personalities: it asks whether ODM can work with the government while keeping the independence needed to hold it to account.

A vacuum at the heart of the opposition

For decades, Raila occupied the center of Kenya's reform movements, challenging successive administrations and campaigning for political change. For his supporters, he was a symbol of resistance and of commitment to a more accountable political system. But his influence also meant that the opposition's ability to unite often depended on his personal standing, his political networks and his skill at reconciling competing interests.

Political analyst Professor Herman Manyora argues that Raila's absence has left a vacuum the opposition has struggled to fill.

"One year after Raila died, he is still larger than life. I think in some way people thought Raila would not die. We immortalized Raila," Manyora said.

He contends that the opposition has yet to find a figure capable of bringing competing interests together.

"The opposition is in disarray. There is no figure around whom people can rally," he said.

That assessment points to a challenge that predates Raila's death but has become sharper since: a movement can inherit a leader's political legacy without necessarily inheriting the authority that held it together. Whether that gap becomes a lasting weakness will depend on whether other leaders can build trust, set a common agenda and organize beyond personal loyalties.

A coalition that divided his legacy

Raila's decision in 2024 to work with Ruto, amid nationwide protests against the Finance Bill, remains one of the most contested chapters of his career.

The demonstrations, driven largely by young Kenyans, grew into a broader expression of anger over taxes, governance and political accountability. As pressure mounted on the government, Raila's move toward cooperation with Ruto raised the question of whether dialogue could deliver meaningful change or whether it risked pulling the opposition closer to the establishment it had long challenged.

Manyora sees the intervention as a decisive moment for Ruto's administration.

"What happened then is that Raila came and saved President William Ruto, because if he had not come to save Ruto, I think the government would have collapsed," he said.

While Manyora's judgment on the political consequences of the alliance is open to debate, his account captures the significance of the decision Raila made: a politician long identified with opposition politics became a partner in an arrangement with a president many Kenyans were protesting against.

For some young Kenyans, the alliance was a betrayal of the political struggle that had made Raila a symbol of resistance. The Gen Z-led protests largely formed outside traditional political structures, driven by demands for accountability and frustration with a long-entrenched political elite. Many demonstrators opposed the idea of their movement being absorbed into negotiations among familiar political figures.

Joshua Okayo, a lawyer and human rights activist from Gen Z, said Raila's decision left him feeling betrayed.

"As a Gen Z, I recognize the kind of politics he fought for. I recognize his years of service to social justice, democracy, the rule of law, constitutionalism and many good things. But there is also a place in my heart that feels he betrayed this generation," Okayo said.

That criticism captures the tension at the heart of the debate over Raila's legacy: whether political compromise was a pragmatic effort to stabilize the country and pursue reform, or a retreat from the principles that defined his career.

Supporters of cooperation argue that dialogue opens a path to address national challenges without prolonged confrontation, while critics see the partnership as evidence that opposition politics risks dissolving into the very establishment it is meant to oversee. The question is not only whether Raila compromised, but whether the deal delivered enough to justify the political cost.

ODM gropes for a future

That debate now confronts ODM as the party tries to establish a direction without Raila's authority. His ability to negotiate coalitions and manage competing interests helped hold the party together. With him gone, disagreements over cooperation with Ruto have become harder to contain, exposing divisions over the party's identity and its role in national politics.

Sifuna's removal sharpened those divisions. His opposition to closer ties with the president raised questions about how ODM makes decisions, whose interests its leadership represents, and whether the party can maintain independence while working with a government it once opposed.

Catherine Omanyo, presented as the new ODM secretary-general and a member of parliament, argues that the party's cooperation with Ruto should be judged by its commitments rather than by the symbolism of the alliance.

"ODM's identity has never been just a seat on one side of parliament. It is democracy, devolution, social justice and the rights of ordinary Kenyans. Raila signed a 10-point agreement with President Ruto. That agreement, not personal loyalty, is the basis for our cooperation with the president," Omanyo told Al Jazeera.

Her argument hinges on whether the agreement delivers meaningful results for Kenyans. But the existence of an agreement does not by itself prove that the partnership is advancing the principles ODM claims. Commitments, implementation and measurable outcomes need to be weighed alongside the party's willingness to challenge the government when pledges go unmet.

For a movement whose identity was forged in opposition, the challenge is to show that cooperation does not come at the expense of accountability. If ODM cannot demonstrate concrete progress or explain when and how it will push back against the government, it risks deepening the fears of supporters who worry the party is drifting from its founding ideals.

The dispute also offers ODM a chance to define what it stands for beyond its relationship with the president. A credible political movement needs more than a history of resistance or the legacy of a revered leader. It needs clear policy, accountable leadership and the willingness to defend principles even when doing so carries a political price.

A legacy still being tested

What is at stake extends beyond ODM. Raila's death exposed the difficulty of separating a political movement's principles from the authority of the leader who embodied them. But divisions within one party do not by themselves prove that Kenya's broader opposition has lost its ability to scrutinize the government. That judgment depends on whether alternative political forces can organize, present credible policies and respond to public demands.

A year on, the question is not simply who can replace Raila. No successor can recreate his political journey or generate exactly the same loyalties. The more consequential question is whether the movement he built can sustain its principles without relying on one person to define them.

For ODM, the relationship with Ruto will ultimately be judged not by the language of cooperation but by what that cooperation delivers. If the party can show progress on its commitments while retaining the independence to challenge the government, it can defend its decision as a pragmatic continuation of Raila's politics. If not, the alliance will reinforce the argument that the opposition he helped build is losing its purpose.

The test for Raila's legacy, then, lies not in how often his name is invoked, but in whether the political principles associated with him continue to shape decisions after his death.

"Cooperation without the courage to speak out would betray Raila's legacy. Cooperation that delivers for Kenyans will honor it," Omanyo said.