President William Ruto at the the funeral of George Oduor, a long-time aide to ODM leader Raila Odinga. PHOTO/UGC.
By TIM OLOO
In a moment that turned a solemn occasion into a political showdown, President William Ruto and ODM Secretary General Edwin Sifuna locked horns during the funeral of George Oduor, a long-time aide to opposition leader Raila Odinga, in Ndori, Siaya County.
The clash, which unfolded in front of mourners and political heavyweights, centred on allegations that government officials had interfered with a student play titled “Echoes of War”, performed by Butere Girls High School. The play, reportedly critical of state excesses, has become a lightning rod for debate on freedom of expression.
Seizing the moment, Senator Sifuna didn’t hold back. Speaking directly to the President, he aired his frustration over the treatment of the students and the growing clampdown on dissent.
“Mr President,” Sifuna began, “the Bishop reminded us that your job isn’t easy, and truly, sometimes I wonder how you even sleep. But, as the Swahili saying goes, “mwiba wa kujitakia hauambiwi pole”—a self-inflicted thorn doesn’t get sympathy. You have people in your government constantly stirring trouble.”
He didn’t stop there. With his voice rising in conviction, the Nairobi Senator urged Ruto to rein in rogue officials within his administration.
“What we saw in Nakuru—students banned from performing, tear-gassed, or sent home—is nothing short of a national embarrassment. It’s your government making your life harder, Mr President. Call them to order!”
But President Ruto was not about to take the criticism lying down. He responded in kind, offering a pointed reminder of his own political roots in the Orange Democratic Movement.
“I’ve heard Sifuna’s strong words,” Ruto said, coolly. “But proceed cautiously. I’m one of ODM’s founders—don’t forget that. If you push too hard, I could call a meeting of the founding members and remind you who laid the foundation of your party.”
He added, only half in jest, that he retains the power to “discipline” those who veer too far off course—even from outside the party’s current leadership.
This back-and-forth comes amid growing tensions within ODM about the party’s role in the current political climate. Sifuna has been vocal in defending the party’s independence, resisting what he sees as creeping co-option by the ruling Kenya Kwanza government.
Secretary General Edwin Sifuna and Senators Steward Mwadzayo and Godfrey Osotsi. PHOTO/UGC.
Sifuna has gained a reputation for challenging state policy, particularly in Senate committees, where he’s grilled top government figures and championed accountability.
Meanwhile, President Ruto faces growing public unrest in the form of the viral “Ruto Must Go” slogan, which has echoed from football stadiums to nightclubs, weddings and beyond. Most recently, he was heckled at the World Safari Rally closing ceremony in Naivasha and again during a Kenya vs Gabon football match in Nairobi.
Still, Ruto appeared unfazed. “Criticism is normal,” he said. “Moi heard ‘Moi Must Go’, others heard it too. It’s just another political chorus. Nothing to fear.”
Yet, behind the President’s calm façade, security agencies have expressed concern. They’ve warned that such slogans risk fuelling instability and undermining state authority.
Siaya Senator Oburu Odinga also chimed in during the funeral, cautioning against any calls for Ruto’s premature removal from office.
“Ruto must go? Go where?” he asked rhetorically. “We’ve seen what happened in Somalia after Siad Barre was ousted—total chaos. We mustn’t let Kenya head in that direction.”
Oburu, a seasoned ODM stalwart, stood by the party’s controversial decision to work with the current government, despite mounting criticism from within its own ranks.
“Even if we don’t all agree, we’re committed to peace and to this broad-based government. Those opposed can have their say—but they must respect the democratic process,” he concluded.
What began as a farewell to a trusted political aide became a stark reminder of Kenya’s deeply polarised politics, as national leaders used the pulpit to air grievances and draw lines in the sand—turning mourning into a moment of political reckoning.
