When Law Society of Kenya (LSK) President Faith Odhiambo announced her resignation from the protest victims’ compensation panel, it was more than a professional decision—it was a spark that lit a political inferno. The panel, formed to oversee justice and reparations for those affected by Kenya’s violent protests, had been mired in controversy from the start. Odhiambo’s departure, though carefully worded and polished, immediately drew questions: Why now? What broke her resolve?

Her statement, shared online, painted her move as one of principle and integrity—an act of reclaiming independence from political interference. “I will continue to agitate for justice for all victims,” she wrote, a declaration that might have been meant to inspire. Instead, it deepened the fractures between her critics and her supporters, pulling ethnic politics right into the conversation.

Miguna’s Rebuke and the Political Undercurrent

Political firebrand Dr. Miguna Miguna wasted no time dismantling Odhiambo’s narrative. His words were cutting, branding her resignation as “too little, too late,” accusing her of deception and moral compromise. Miguna’s statement wasn’t merely about Odhiambo—it was a searing indictment of what he sees as performative leadership in a government entangled with elite loyalty and hypocrisy.

His response resonated with those who believe Odhiambo’s association with the state panel undermined her independence as LSK President. Yet for others, Miguna’s tone highlighted the toxic cynicism that often greets reform-minded leaders in Kenya—a space where no decision is free of suspicion.

Ethnic Anger Erupts Online

As news spread, an ugly wave of tribal commentary flooded social media. One tweet in particular, laced with ethnic insults and historical bitterness, captured the worst of Kenya’s deep-seated divisions. The writer’s tirade, aimed at both Odhiambo and the Luo community, underscored how easily political actions morph into ethnic blame games.

This wasn’t just about Faith Odhiambo—it became about Kenya’s unresolved question of power, tribe, and identity. The wounds of the past, from Jaramogi Oginga Odinga’s political exclusion to modern struggles for representation, resurfaced in full force. In the eyes of many Kenyans, the episode revealed that unity remains a fragile illusion.

The Political Pressure Behind the Decision

Beneath the noise lies a quieter truth: Odhiambo had faced mounting pressure, both from within the LSK and from political actors uncomfortable with her dual role. Critics argued that her participation in a government-led compensation panel compromised her independence. Supporters countered that she was trying to bridge the gap between victims and state accountability.

Sources close to the matter suggest that internal legal challenges—questioning the legitimacy of her appointment—played a key role in her decision to bow out. Others whisper that the “protection” she once enjoyed had faded, leaving her politically exposed. Whatever the reason, her resignation has become a political spectacle.

Faith Odhiambo’s Legacy and the Path Ahead

Odhiambo’s next steps will be watched closely. Will she double down on activism, focusing on justice for protest victims? Or will she retreat, leaving behind a cautionary tale of how reform in Kenya can quickly be swallowed by politics?

For many young lawyers and civic leaders, she remains a symbol of courage—one who dared to walk away from state entanglement. But for her critics, she’s a cautionary figure—proof that principle without consistency is easily undone.

What’s certain is that Faith Odhiambo’s resignation is not the end of a story, but the start of a larger national conversation about integrity, tribalism, and the blurred line between activism and politics.