For those who only saw him beside Raila Odinga in newspaper photos or news clips, George Oduor might have appeared to be just a serious, no-nonsense bodyguard.

But Georgie, as he was fondly known to his close friends and associates, was far more than a member of Baba’s security detail. He was a dear friend, a trusted aide, and a comrade in the struggle. A man of integrity, dedication, and unwavering loyalty, George carried the weight of responsibility with quiet grace. He always stood ready to defend Baba from any adversaries, physically or otherwise.

George had a rare ability to make people feel at ease around Jakom—not just in the line of duty, but in spirit and humanity. Whether through a reassuring word, his calm presence, or a selfless act, George left behind an impact that will never fade.

He was especially popular among journalists. In my nearly 30 years in the media, I never once heard a colleague complain about him. He treated journalists seeking interviews with Raila with care and decorum, and was always professional and courteous to anyone who interacted with Baba. I am yet to hear of a single incident where George lost his cool.

Despite rubbing shoulders with the powerful and prominent in politics, George remained humble, soft-spoken, and approachable. Fame never got to his head.

I first met George in 1995 through another close friend and fellow journalist, the late Ochieng Sino. This was shortly after George had seamlessly transitioned from being the security officer for the late Jaramogi Oginga Odinga to becoming Raila’s most trusted bodyman.

It was George and the late Sino—“wuod Kathomo”—who introduced me to the world of politics, opening doors I never imagined I would walk through. Meeting Raila was a defining moment in my life, and it wouldn’t have been possible without George. Our relationship has remained close ever since. It has been nothing short of symbiotic.

I recall vividly, during the Kibaki era, when certain state operatives hatched a plot to target George in a desperate attempt to undermine Raila. These operatives, without the knowledge of then-Police Commissioner Hussein Ali, ordered the withdrawal of George’s firearm license and his weapon—exposing Raila in the process.

I called General Ali late that night. He asked me to tell George to report to his office at Vigilance House. When George did, he was issued a new firearm and license. Ali told him simply, “Enda chunga mzee.” And that’s exactly what George did—faithfully, until his death.

Nind gi kwe, George.

The author is a former Editor at The Standard who has previously worked at the British High Commission and in the Raila Odinga Secretariat during the 2022 Presidential Campaigns.