The Self-Coronation Gamble: Babu’s Dangerous Ambition
In the aftermath of Raila Amolo Odinga’s death, Embakasi East MP Babu Owino has thrust himself into the national spotlight by declaring—openly and without hesitation—that he is the new Luo Kingpin and de facto head of opposition. This audacious claim, made with the self-assurance of a man intoxicated by his own charisma, has sent tremors through the delicate web of Luo political organization.
Babu’s self-appointment is neither accidental nor spontaneous. For months preceding Raila’s passing, he was already manoeuvring for visibility—issuing bold anti-Ruto statements, staging rallies with visibly choreographed crowds, and launching spirited social media offensives meant to project him as the natural heir to the Odinga throne. In his mind, succession is not earned through consensus but seized through spectacle. Yet history and Luo tradition are unkind to such haste.
The Luo political order, deeply intertwined with both spiritual legitimacy and communal endorsement, is not a ladder one ascends through noise and defiance. Raila himself—after Jaramogi’s death—waited seven years before he was symbolically acknowledged as the community’s political centre. The current vacancy left by Raila’s passing is not merely administrative but metaphysical. Oburu Odinga, as the elder brother, and the Luo Council of Elders remain the custodians of the coronation process. To bypass this sacred structure, as Babu seems intent on doing, risks provoking silent rebellion among Luo voters who still see Kingpinship as a mantle, not a medal.
Babu’s assertiveness might play well in Nairobi’s populist spaces, but within the heartland of Luo Nyanza, leadership without ritual endorsement borders on heresy. The question, therefore, is not whether Babu wants the crown—it is whether the community will permit him to wear it.
The Lessons of History: Kingpins Who Rose and Fell
Kenya’s political history is littered with the wreckage of would-be Kingpins who mistook proximity to power for permanence. When Mzee Jomo Kenyatta died in 1978, several towering figures—Mbiyu Koinange, Charles Njonjo, Mwai Kibaki, and Njoroge Mungai—jostled to inherit his mantle as Kikuyu patriarch. Each failed. Political gravity simply did not favour them. Similarly, after Moses Mudavadi’s death in 1989, Western Kenya’s succession became a chaotic competition of egos: Elijah Mwangale, Burudi Nabwera, and Martin Shikuku all faltered, leaving a vacuum only symbolically filled by his son, Musalia Mudavadi.
The coastal narrative mirrored the same fate. After Shariff Nassir—Moi’s coastal strongman—died in 2005, aspirants like Suleiman Shakombo, Chirau Mwakwere, and Najib Balala scrambled for his shoes, yet none could replicate his populist magnetism. Today, Ali Hassan Joho and Amason Kingi still contest that legacy.
In each case, succession was not seized; it was bestowed through patience, networks, and timing. Babu Owino, by contrast, appears to be sprinting up a staircase still under construction. His self-declaration mirrors the hubris of past politicians who believed public drama could substitute for generational consensus. If history is any guide, this approach leads not to coronation but isolation.
The Opposition Dilemma: Babu’s Risky Strategic Calculus
Babu’s second gamble—perhaps even riskier than his Kingpin quest—is his insistence on running for Nairobi Governor while aligning himself with the opposition. Politically, this is akin to juggling grenades while walking a tightrope.
In the post-Raila landscape, ODM remains split between pragmatists who want to maintain cooperation with the government and hardliners still loyal to the rhetoric of resistance. Babu, ever the rebel, has chosen the latter path, openly defying ODM’s directives, such as when he refused to vote for Rigathi Gachagua’s impeachment, a decision perceived as insubordination within the party hierarchy.
Yet, if he formally detaches from ODM to join or form an opposition front, he immediately loses the Luo bloc vote, which remains emotionally tied to the Odinga dynasty and ODM’s symbolic authority. That same vote bank propelled him to easy victories in Embakasi East. Without it, his base becomes geographically fractured and ethnically diluted.
Running for Nairobi Governor under an opposition ticket in 2027—or sooner—presents a double-edged dilemma: If ODM fields its own candidate, likely with backing from government networks, Babu splits the opposition vote and risks a humiliating defeat. If he remains independent or joins a fringe coalition, he faces financial starvation and political isolation in a race dominated by heavyweights with state machinery.
In essence, his plan to occupy both the Kingpin throne and City Hall is a political paradox: he seeks to lead a people whose core party he defies, and govern a city whose voting patterns demand multi-ethnic coalition building. That is not just risky—it is potentially suicidal.
The Road Ahead: Charisma, Logic, and the Curse of Impatience
There is no denying that Babu Owino possesses extraordinary political gifts. At 33 years old, he embodies a generational transition Kenya desperately needs—young, articulate, and fearlessly confrontational. He has won his parliamentary seat multiple times, commanding loyalty among urban youth who see in him a reflection of their own frustrations and aspirations. His educational pedigree and communication flair make him one of the most intellectually capable figures in Kenya’s political class.
But charisma without discipline is a candle in the wind. Babu’s theatrics, defiance, and thirst for rapid ascension may yet consume him. Political ecosystems, especially ethnic-based ones, are not powered by rhetoric alone—they depend on consensus, patronage, and patience.
If he insists on defying ODM, antagonizing elders, and declaring himself Kingpin, he may find himself in political exile—too rebellious for the party, too controversial for state cooperation, and too ambitious for his peers. The Luo throne, like that of Jaramogi and Raila before him, demands a fusion of ancestral legitimacy, political strategy, and communal faith. These are virtues not obtained through self-declaration but through time and testing.
Moreover, Nairobi politics is not the ideal battleground for a Kingpin in training. The city’s demographics—an electoral cauldron of Kikuyu, Kamba, Luhya, Somali, and Luo voters—require coalition-building, not confrontation. To win, Babu would need to unite, not polarize. If he loses that race, his political relevance could evaporate overnight, leaving him as yet another casualty of premature ambition.
Between Vision and Vanity
Babu Owino’s trajectory is both thrilling and tragic—a young man burning with vision, yet flirting dangerously with vanity. His self-proclamation as Luo Kingpin and his planned gubernatorial bid in defiance of party discipline represent a high-stakes gamble that could either immortalize him or destroy him.
Kenyan political history shows that those who rush to crown themselves often end up politically beheaded. For now, Babu remains a brilliant meteor flashing across the political firmament—dazzling, noisy, impossible to ignore—but unless he learns the art of timing, humility, and coalition-building, his light may fade long before it reaches the zenith of power.
In the end, the throne he seeks may reject him—not because he lacks charisma or intellect—but because in the great theatre of Luo politics, legitimacy is earned through endurance, not announcement. Babu’s mission, therefore, is not merely difficult. It is, for now, a mission impossible—unless wisdom tempers his fire.
Okoth Osewe
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