What made Thongori, Odede stand out as learned friends

Every so often death strikes a blow that forces reflection, both about the fleeting nature of life and the need to plan for this grim reality. The deaths of human rights champions Judy Thongori and Roseline Odede barely 10 days apart are such.

I have known Roseline and Judy for ages. I served with Roseline in the Law Society Council when we were younger and when we all had hope in the transformation of Kenya into a vibrant constitutional democracy.

Roseline kept her faith and continued to tread that mill rising to the impactful position of the chair of the National Commission of Human Rights.

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I grew older and skeptical, much like Benjamin the donkey in Animal Farm. Roseline was a hope-filled, joyful, decent human being with a peal of infectious laughter. She was one of the sober voices in a terrain that demands wisdom, balancing principled toughness and pragmatism, if one is to make real progress. 

Her loss is huge not just to her family but to the legal profession and the human rights world.

Judy, on the other hand I have known for ages from when she was a shy village girl in Kahuhia Girls. We then ended up in University and Law School together where she was not notable, never engaged in controversy, never stood out, just a regular girl working through school.

I still do not know where her Damascus moment happened that converted her into the colossus she became.

Her entry seems to have been the then-feared FIDA; a letter from FIDA in the 90s gave errant husbands and absentee fathers sleepless nights.

She then became a fierce fighter for human rights being involved in lobbying, law reform and litigation to advance the rights of women and girls.

She will be remembered for her role in the review of such critical laws as the Marriage Act, the Children’s Act and in her role in the celebrated case that sought to enforce the two-thirds gender rule.

As a co-panelist in one of Kenya’s best talk shows, Patrick Quarco’s “Cross Fire” with Tony Gachoka, Mutula Kilonzo and Mukhisa Kituyi, Judy was always the rational, reasonable voice taking positions critical of government but presented in a manner that even her opponents found appealing.

As a lawyer, Judy was the “go-to” lawyer on family issues. In a world where many lawyers have become sloppy, especially when they take on so many clients, Judy amazed me with her ability to deal with each of her cases as if it was the only one she was dealing with.

She was vicious in the prosecution of her clients’ cases, but always looking for ways to get that evasive mediated settlement that kept temperatures down in what are generally emotionally volatile cases.

Several clients I referred to her are devastated, theirs is not just a loss of their lawyer, it is the loss of a friend, a calming balm in stormy hostile waters.

As one of them told me “Judy would calm me down, proffer the perfect plan and tell me not to worry. I do not even know where to start”. With her classic “I know, ya” submitted with hearty laughter, Judy made you feel heard and valued.

Judy was the ultimate lawyers’ lawyer, training many lawyers on firm management, mentoring young lawyers and being available for many causes. One could go on and on.

The death of these two celebrated lawyers in the prime of their lives must give us pause.

Firstly, we must remember we are on a schedule and mother death will soon call. We need to prepare for this inevitability.

If you knew for sure you were leaving tonight, how would you mend your relationship with your maker, your family or your friends? Do it today.

Secondly, thinking of Roseline and Judy makes me think of impact. What impact will you leave on this side of heaven?

What will folk say of you, genuinely? Will they struggle for lack of good words, or have too much to say? My readers, death is more assured than this column next week. Don’t let it surprise you. Goodbye our sisters, you fought the good fight.

The writer is an advocate of the High Court of Kenya