“Yaani Baba ameenda. Bado sijaamini.”

These were the words of a colleague with whom I shared a cup of tea midmorning Thursday. As one of the crew who would travel to Bondo to cover the burial, it was hard for him to believe that the man he has idolised for so many years had gone up to be with his ancestors.

To many of his supporters, Raila Amollo Odinga was a demigod. It was hard to imagine he would ever die.

“To us Baba was immortal. Although we knew he was sick, nothing could have prepared us for his death,” says Maxwell Odhiambo, a die-hard supporter of the former Prime Minister. “I wish he had died in his sleep at his Karen home, not very far away in India,” he added.

It is no wonder then that thousands of mourners stormed the Jomo Kenyatta International Airport (JKIA) the morning his body arrived in the country from Mumbai, India.

When KQ 203, the flight that carried his body was sighted outside the airport as it swiftly aimed for the runway, the mourners got into a frenzy. Some made chants, others wailed in despair and those who failed to keep it together threw themselves on tarmac. They wanted to welcome Baba back so badly that they could no longer wait outside the premises of one of the most guarded facilities in the country. They breached the tight security and went all the way to the aircraft.

What was to be a brief transition to Lee Funeral Home, then to Parliament took hours as mourners disrupted the convoy, wanting to escort Raila on foot from JKIA. And security forces watched helplessly as the supporters jammed the road and took turns trying to grasp Baba’s casket.

At Parliament Buildings MPs took turns in trying to calm frantic mourners; but not even the beloved Babu Owino or Edwin Sifuna succeeded. The planned public viewing had to be moved to the Kasarani Stadium due the large numbers. But the chaos extended to the new venue. So unruly was the crowd that the police were forced to deploy teargas and shoot in the air to disperse them, leaving at least four dead and many more injured at the end of the day.

If he were not dead, he would have woken up to speak to them. He would have stood, raised his hand and gave a simple command; “Hayaa.” And they would have calmed down. Sadly, the only man who could have calmed that crowd was in the coffin. Silent and still like a big stone in water.

“Baba knew how to calm his people. Only Baba knew how.” Tweeted politician Robert Alai amidst the chaos.

In an early morning editorial meeting on Wednesday, Raila’s health was widely discussed and concerns raised about his status. Little did we know that about 4,612 kilometers away, the man had already been pronounced dead in Kerala State, India. And when the news finally broke, the grief and shock in the newsroom were palpable. We knew that such a day would come. But it’s like it could not happen. For a moment, we stopped being just journalists, and let that sink in. Raila was no more.

Journalists who covered Raila were not just reporters in the line of duty. Some were his admirers, others friends. To some like my colleague who covered his final rites in Bondo, being born in Nyanza made you a default fanatic of the man. Baba was not just a politician; he was a true father of the region. “I really cried yesterday. I still cannot believe it,” he said, to my shock. “I must go to Bondo. I was there for Fidel; I must be there for Baba.”

Although the former Prime Minister was considered immortal among his fiercest fans, he was still human. He was revered and deeply loved by family, friends and those who worked with him.

A photo of his bodyguard Maurice Ogeta sobbing before Raila’s coffin in India, went viral online, touching hearts of many. He was also photographed shedding tears after their arrival at JKIA. The man who constantly followed his boss like a shadow, to protect him from danger, broken, as he could not stop the angel of death from snatching him away.

His personal doctor Oketch Salah, whom Raila spent some of his last days with, and who documented some of their cheerful moments and posted them online, sorrowful for losing not a mere patient, but a man who changed his life.

To Edwin Sifuna, the fierce Secretary General of Baba’s political vehicle, Orange Democratic Movement (ODM), who often spoke his leader’s heart, and was recently commended by the man himself for speaking the correct position of the party regarding the 2027 election. Tears engulfed his eyes in that KQ flight to Mumbai. He was going to bring his boss back home. His mentor had gone, never to return. Never to give him a pat on the shoulder and says, “You have done well my son.”

Perhaps the most heartbreaking photo is one of Winnie Odinga handing over his father’s iconic hat to her grieving mother and Raila’s widow, Mama Ida. As she disembarked from the plane and touched down at JKIA, she carried not just a piece of fabric, the white fedora hat was a symbol of the man himself. This probably felt like the heaviest luggage she has had to carry, and the longest walk her entire life. Kneeling down, she gave it to Mrs Odinga, who received and placed it on her lap, as the two shared a solemn moment of solace.