29 January 2026 - When Dr Canon Ida Odinga gently but firmly cautioned Kenyans and their close knit family to “stop fights in the open” and reminded her guests that the public is watching, it was less a rebuke and more a mother’s alarm bell.
In that moment, she was not just speaking to her daughter Winnie Odinga or her brother-in-law Dr Oburu Oginga Odinga. She was speaking to the soul of Orange Democratic Movement (ODM) itself—an outfit staring at the most delicate transition in its history.
On the surface, the Odinga family has worked overtime to project harmony, peace, love and unity.
Dr Oburu and Winnie have told ODM supporters that there is no internal family fight, only unity, love, tolerance, and respect for divergent opinions.
Yet politics is never about what is said; it is about what is seen.
And what Kenyans are seeing is a quiet but intense succession contest, disguised as ideological debate, but fundamentally about who inherits the late Raila Odinga’s vast political estate.
The imagery is striking: two Odingas, each sitting confidently on their own chair, both gazing at the same throne.
Dr Oburu, seasoned, deliberate, and institutionally rooted, admits he cannot “copy-paste Raila” but promises to stitch the party together.
Winnie, youthful, fiery, energetic , outgoing and unfiltered, argues—implicitly and sometimes explicitly—that she alone carries the organic spark, the natural pull, the charisma that defined her father's legacy
Reality has, however, been unkindly theatrical.
Dr Oburu’s first major test at Kamukunji Grounds in Kibra—hallowed ground from which Raila once shook the nation—did not arouse much political attention as Raila's was.
The crowd was modest. The symbolism was astonishing to many usually used to mass following.
Worse still, key ODM figures, including Secretary General Edwin Sifuna, stayed away, sending mixed signals that echoed louder than speeches.
The message was unmistakable: legitimacy is not declared; it is demonstrated.
Then came Winnie’s Kibra “test run.”
The crowds surged. The energy crackled.
To many ODM supporters, it felt hauntingly familiar—almost Raila-esque.
Around the same time, Dr Oburu was in Western Kenya consolidating support, drawing respectable numbers but not silencing the murmurs.
Two parallel rallies. Same family. Different directions. To the public, it looked less like pluralism and more like political dissonance.
Social media, predictably, went into overdrive. Who exactly does ODM want to follow?
Which Odinga is the compass? And why does a family that symbolises unity appear so publicly divided?
Into this storm stepped Dr Ida Odinga, herself now a central figure in the narrative.
Allegations swirled that she was backing her daughter against her 'shemeji' Dr Oburu.
Meanwhile, President William Ruto—keenly interested in a stable and united ODM as a negotiating partner—threw his weight behind Dr Oburu, even giving him the green light to lead talks with UDA and other like-minded formations.
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That endorsement quietly but decisively shifted the centre of gravity.
Power, as always, followed proximity.
Delegations that once instinctively knocked at Ida’s gate reportedly began streaming toward Dr Oburu’s residence instead.
For a family long accustomed to being the axis of political pilgrimage, this was more than symbolic—it was existential.
It signalled a fundamental shift in influence, authority, and relevance ahead of the next electoral cycle.
Winnie’s resistance, therefore, was not just rebellion; it was strategy.
With her courting the youth vote and opposing the emerging ODM orthodoxy, she sought to reassert relevance and redraw the succession script.
But politics abhors prolonged family warfare, especially when the high stakes are national.
In quick response to help contain the situation and calm waters, President Ruto’s move to appoint Ida Odinga as a UNEP envoy—replacing Ababu Namwamba—proved pivotal.
The plum diplomatic posting came with prestige, restraint, and a demand for sobriety. Almost instantly, the political temperature dropped.
Ida recalibrated. Her caution to her daughter followed. Diplomacy, after all, leaves little room for open political brawls.
Now, the family is retreating from the battlefield to the chessboard.
A meeting has reportedly been called to strike a truce and agree on how to manage the Raila succession without further public spectacle. It is an overdue pause.
The lesson is stark: ODM cannot afford to scatter when history demands gathering.
Raila’s greatest strength was not just crowds, but coalition—of regions, generations, and ideas.
His successors, whoever they may be, must learn that succession is not won by parallel rallies or silent wars, but by pooling strength, harmonising ambition, and marching in one direction.
Kenyans are watching. And this time, applause will only come from unity that is real—not rehearsed.

The writer is a Kenya based journalist, regular advocate for democracy and good governance, Media consultant and columnist.
The opinion expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of Dawan Africa.

Opinion - The Odinga Succession Chessboard: Unity Performed, but Power Is Still Contested
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