Nyayo Stadium fell into a somber hush on the morning of Friday, October 17, 2025. Draped in the Kenyan flag, the casket of Raila Amolo Odinga—patriot, liberator, father, and son of the nation—lay beneath a grey sky as Kenya began to reckon with a grief too vast for words.
The passing of Raila Odinga has not only left a void in the political soul of the country, but also stirred the ancestral heart of the Luo community. In honoring one of its most esteemed sons, the community has turned to sacred traditions—rites passed down through generations—to shepherd his spirit home.
A Nation Mourns, a Culture Awakens
In the Luo tradition, death is not an end—it is a transition. And to journey well into the afterlife, one must be sent off properly. Fourteen distinct rites mark this journey, each one carrying the weight of ancestry, memory, and respect. For Raila, these rites began the moment his death was confirmed.
The first announcement of death traditionally belongs to women. At the first light or last dusk, loud, heart-wrenching wails pierce the air—grief made sound. Accompanied by the rhythmic beat of drums, the lamentations signal to the community: a pillar has fallen.

As is custom, married daughters must first return to their husband’s homes before they may mourn, and sons-in-law are forbidden from mourning publicly until after the burial. These unspoken rules of grief are observed with reverence—meant to protect, honor, and unify.
A Brother’s Voice, A Nation’s Pain
Oburu Oginga, Raila’s elder brother, delivered the heartbreaking news upon returning from Mumbai. Standing at Raila’s Opoda home, Oburu’s voice trembled as he said, “We have just landed from India, where we went to collect the body of Raila, and as culture dictates, I am here at his Bondo home to announce his death.”
With that announcement, the rituals began.
Padho: Holding Vigil With the Ancestors
The family and elders began “Padho”—a sacred period of sitting with the deceased at his homestead until the day of burial. This is more than a vigil; it is communion with the spirit of the departed. At Raila’s Opoda Farm, a tent was pitched, and the air grew heavy with memory and prayer.
Next came the selection of a burial site. According to Luo customs, the resting place of a man is not random. Raila, like his father Jaramogi before him, had chosen his grave—on the ancestral land, facing the front gate, in front of the house of his first wife. The symbolism? A leader always faces forward.

Grave digging is not a job, but an honor. It is begun by the cousin of the deceased and carried on by grandchildren, done silently and at night—an act of love, not labor.
Accompanying the Spirit (Tero Buru)
Before burial, a powerful ritual is performed to guide the spirit to the next world. Near a river, the community gathers. For an elder like Raila, a bull is slaughtered—its blood a bridge between this world and the one beyond. Later, a cock is also sacrificed, ensuring the soul’s safe passage.
Then came “Tero Buru,” a dramatic, haunting procession. Men and women adorned in masks and traditional regalia chant and dance, chasing away any lingering evil spirits from the burial site. It is a spectacle of both grief and power, signaling that the spirit of the deceased must journey in peace.
For three days, the mourning continues. Wives and daughters cry in unison, their grief rising with the sun and setting with the moon. It is not chaos—it is ritualized sorrow.

Shaving, Separation, and Renewal
For widows, the mourning does not end with burial. Heads are shaved—a painful, symbolic shedding of the past. The razor marks the transition: from grief to life, from wife to widow, from the old world into a new one. This act also allows a widow, culturally, to be inherited or remarry, should she choose.
Children, too, must return to their homes in the order of their birth. After death, even the living must realign themselves in honor of the one they have lost.
The final, and perhaps most intimate ritual, is one seldom spoken of—yet in the Luo tradition, it is central: duogo liel—the sharing of a meal with the dead. Here, the family prepares food, and symbolically serves it to the spirit of the deceased. It is a gesture of reconciliation, love, and gratitude. Married women eat first, followed by children. In eating, they invite the spirit to remain in peace.
Life After Farewell
The final rites include property distribution and the remembrance of the deceased. His clothes are divided publicly, signaling the continuation of his legacy. But more than physical belongings, what Raila leaves behind is a country forever changed—and a people forever grateful.
In extraordinary cases, traditions may go further. If a virgin girl dies, a controversial deflowering ritual may be performed by an elderly woman to fulfill cultural obligations. Such acts underscore the deeply rooted—and often debated—cultural significance of these rites.
A Final Rest for the Son of Jaramogi
Raila Amolo Odinga now lies beside his father, on the soil that birthed his dreams and bore witness to his battles. In his passing, the Luo community has shown the nation what it means to honor the dead not just with tears—but with tradition, ritual, and ancestral truth.
As the drums fade and the last wails echo into the sky, the spirit of the enigma called Raila is carried not just by wind, but by memory—etched into the hearts of millions, and whispered forever in the sacred rituals of his people.