There is still an echo in the halls of power,
A silence where your voice once rang.
Your footsteps fade in corridors you opened,
But your spirit lingers in each threshold.

You were the axis of expectations,
A constant in moments of uncertainty.
Across rainy seasons, crowds, and protest chants,
You carried hope on your back,
Even when the wind was cruel.

You argued for justice
In whispered rooms and crowded squares.
You bore the burden of disappointment
With the quiet dignity of someone who believed
That democracy is more than a word: it’s a struggle.

When they tried to cage you.
Not with bars, but with fear, absence, erasure.
You turned your chains into lessons,
Your silences into movements.

Today, I write to you gently:
The debates go on, the arguments shift,
But your name will remain.
A compass for those who dare to dream
Beyond compromise.

May the streets you walked remember your footsteps,
May the ballots you fought for remember your name,
May the future remember your conviction.

Sleep well, Jakom🕊️.
May your rest be deep and your peace complete.
Kenyan politics will never be the same again.