Raila Odinga joins Kochia traditional dancers from Homa bay county in a dance in a past event. [File, Standard]
Armed with rudimentary instruments the ‘onanda,’ ‘orutu,’ ‘ogengo,’ ‘nyatiti’ and ‘oyieko’ and dressed in leopard-print costumes, they had little to show in material wealth.
Their clothes were simple, their music recorded in cramped, dimly lit studios, and their performances staged in smoky nightclubs packed with euphoric, beer-soaked crowds of every ethnicity.
Yet, as the dancers swayed to the beat and the rhythm took hold, one name echoed through every chorus: Raila Amolo Odinga.
The videos were raw, the production unpolished but the tunes were irresistibly catchy. Whether it was Raila Amolo Odinga, Raila ODM 2007 Official Anthem, NASA Tibim, Raila Igala Gala or Raila Jakom, the message rang the same: Raila was the word, the rhythm and the spirit.
He may never have clinched the presidency, but to these musicians and their audiences, he was already Jakom, the chairman. He was the man with a seat that needed no election to affirm it.
Among those who lent their voices to Jakom’s journey were musicians who turned politics into poetry and rhythm.
The late Maureen Achieng’, popularly known as Lady Maureen, was among the earliest Luo Benga artists to sing about Agwambo’s dream of Canaan.
In her song Raila Duogie Dala (Agwambo Come Back Home), she pleaded with Raila to return home to Kisumu, Bondo, Siaya, Ugenya, Ugunja and Mbita whose people longed to hear his voice and feel his leadership once more.
In the track, she declared that she sang about Raila wuod Nyar Alego because “he is the government that gets things done,” and that his time to lead Kenya had come.
Lady Maureen also released Raila Jakom, a song that portrayed Raila as the heartbeat of the nation. In her lyrics, when Raila was unwell, “all Kenyans were sick,” and when he was silent, “the country lost its way.”
To her, Raila was the son of the soil, the guardian of Kenya and anyone who insulted or rejected him would “meet the wrath of the people.” She praised him not just for his politics but for his intellect, calling him a smart man whose leadership was ordained.
In Akuru Marachar (A White Dove), she symbolised Raila’s advocacy for peace and devolution. Doves, she sang, were messengers of peace and so was Raila when he championed the system that birthed governors, senators, and counties.
Through her music, Lady Maureen celebrated the promise of self-governance and development in places like Siaya and Kisumu, regions that had long been sidelined.
Another legend, the late Musa Juma, used his smooth Rumba beats to sing Raila Amolo Odinga. In his song, he described Raila as a man of integrity, corruption-free, patriotic, and the architect of Kenya’s second liberation. To him, Raila was the man who fought for multiparty democracy, a new constitution, and equality for all.
By 2007, when Kenya burned in the flames of post-election violence, musicians once again turned to song to make sense of the chaos.
Benard Onyango, popularly known as Onyi Papa Jey, captured the moment in ODM 2007 Official Anthem, a politically charged track that documented the events of that year and rallied supporters of the Orange Democratic Movement. His voice became both a call to unity and a record of history blending rhythm with resistance.
“When I released the song in 2007, I had not met Baba until 2009 when I was launching my second album at Bomas of Kenya,” he recalls. “That’s when I finally met and spoke to him.”
He had composed the song while in Tanzania, shortly after the death of legendary musician Daniel Owino Misiani.
“Misiani used to sing a lot of political songs. When I came back home in 2006, Ohangla was the trend. Once the song was ready, I released it,” he says.
His voice trembles slightly as he reflects on the journey. “Since I knew Mzee, my life has changed. He’s been a great friend he takes my calls like I’m his son. When I released the song, it was out of love for Raila and my contribution to the Luo community and his campaign. That song became a big hit not just among Luos, but across Kenya.”
During that time rumors trailed his success, “People said I was bought a house and a Hummer, but that was never true,” he says. “When I released the song, I was 25 years old. I met Raila two years later when I was 27, I sang to make my name and to contribute to his campaign not for rewards. Even after the song faded, that’s when I met him.”
Over time, the relationship grew beyond politics. “Raila and I remained close friends. I could walk into his office anytime, and he would ask about my work,” Onyi Papa Jey says.
But fame came at a cost, the song was both a curse and a blessing. “I was denied shows in many Nairobi clubs. Every time my manager asked for gigs, owners would say, ‘Isn’t that the guy who sang about ODM?’ and that would be the end of it. Those who opposed Raila made things very hard for me,” he says.
Onyi Papa Jey holds no regrets: “I sang that song with my whole heart, asking God to let it contribute to Raila’s success. I loved him dearly so did my family. That love is what pushed me to sing about him, not money.”
For Austin Odhiambo, popularly known as Emma Jalamo, his musical tribute to Raila was also born out of admiration. He released his Raila song before the 2017 General Election.
“I sang out of love for Raila and for what he has done for this country,” Jalamo says. “I was close to him. I used to visit him at home with my family. With the songs I had released, I attended most of his rallies.”
Having spent over 15 years in the industry, Jalamo says people already knew him before his political songs.
“I began releasing songs in 2010. But it’s not easy for us now we’ve lost a king. I’ve even cancelled my shows just to mourn Baba. I’m heartbroken by Odinga’s death.”
To Tony Nyadundo, another Ohangla icon, Raila Odinga was more than a political figure he was a statesman who valued peace above power.
“Raila was a strategic thinker,” he says. “He accepted defeat when necessary to keep peace in the country. Baba thought about everyone before making decisions. He wasn’t selfish or impulsive. Even in 2007, when Kenya was on fire, he chose peace with Mwai Kibaki to save lives.”
Nyadundo’s 2006 song Raila Igala Gala, released during the ODM referendum campaigns, celebrated Raila’s political courage and vision.
“Raila was a very complicated person,” he notes. “Even in death, he seemed to know it was coming. I sang that song out of love, not for payment just as I did for Obama. My inspiration came from love, and from my fans.”
His voice shaken and faint he adds “My life changed since I sang about Baba. The reception was amazing. Raila made the Luo community brighter he made us understand the constitution and how every regime works.”
Raila Odinga (left) dances to a tune from musician Tony Nyadundo.
For Joseph Onyango Ochieng’, known to fans as Onyi Tibim, his career took off after his 2017 election campaign hit Raila Tibim.
“The name came after I released the song during the general election campaigns,” he says. “I sang to support his campaign I didn’t expect it to go viral, but the reception was overwhelming.”
With fame came both blessings and burdens. “After that song, people thought I was a millionaire,” he laughs softly. “They expected me to pay school fees, contribute to funerals, even solve their personal problems. My lifestyle changed completely. Before the song, I lived in a house where rent was only Sh2,500. That song lifted me it changed my life and the lives of those in my band.”
For many political leaders, music has always been a unifying force. For Raila Odinga, it was much more than that it was part of his identity.
Deeply rooted in culture, Raila appreciated rhythm and dance; the small, deliberate steps he took on stage became symbolic of his humility and connection with the people. From his early days as the Member of Parliament for Lang’ata to his spirited presidential campaigns, music was woven into every chapter of his political journey.
He danced to the drums at rallies, nodded along to the beats of Ohangla, and joined in song with his supporters. During the funeral procession of the late Daniel Arap Moi, Raila famously sang “Jowi!” — a traditional cry of honor — paying tribute to a man he had once opposed but deeply respected.
His favorite tune, Jamaica Farewell by Harry Belafonte, revealed his softer, nostalgic side the man behind the political firebrand.
Raila loved rhythm, and he loved those who praised him in song just as much. Through his appreciation for music and culture, he built bridges where politics often built walls.