Denzel O. Omondi: Sleep well, gentle soul, sharp mind, soldier
By Onyango Ojuju, June 27, 2025On Monday, July 22, 2024, all roads led to Homa Bay. Family and friends, villagers and town folk, the common mwananchi and those of noble lineage, all came together to mourn and lay to rest a young man gone too soon: Denzel Onyango Omondi.
Not long ago, Denzel’s name and face graced the front page of Kenya’s dailies as well as international outlets, triggering nationwide attention and alarm. Then came the harrowing news: his lifeless body had been discovered in a quarry. The grief was overwhelming. Lit ndi! (Overwhelmingly painful). It hurts so much.
To Mzee James Otieno, your beloved firstborn is no more. Who will now rush to your aid in the dead of night when danger comes calling? The young spear of your household has fallen. Lit ndi yawa!
To Mama Jedidah Omburah, gone is the first fruit of your womb. Will the name “Mama Denzel” now be a source of constant pain instead of pride and joy? Inauma sana (It’s very painful).
To Laurie, Queenter, and Barrack, your big brother is no more. Who will now stand by you, guide you, and gently usher you into adulthood in these chaotic times?
Denzel’s peers at JKUAT made their grief known. Many made the long journey from Juja to pay their last respects. His fellow Adventist Youth Society members lifted prayers for his safety while he was missing, and now grieve the loss of a friend and brother. His church, Sabaki Central SDA Church, will deeply miss Denzel’s keen eye and emerging expertise as a budding quantity surveyor.
As the African proverb goes: “A chick that will grow into a cock can be spotted the very day it hatches.” Denzel, even in youth, showed signs of greatness. His potential was evident to all.
The poet Robert Frost once wrote: “I have been one acquainted with the night.” Those words reflect our grief. Your uncle, Elder Ken Ombura, missed Sabbath worship in desperate search for you. His anguish, like that of many others, runs deep. Lit ndi.
Denzel, you were cool, calm and collected, with an easy smile and those signature spectacles that gave you a professorial look. You spoke little, but behind your silence was a sharp mind, a politically conscious spirit and a longing for justice well beyond your years.
You would have been at home among the greats who fought injustice. From William Wilberforce in England, to Dietrich Bonhoeffer in Germany. In Africa, your spirit would have found kin in Bildad Kaggia, Mekatilili wa Menza, Chris Hani, and Thomas Sankara. Yes, you would have been right there, shoulder to shoulder with those who dared to challenge power, corruption and colonialism.
The story of Denzel’s death is not just a personal tragedy. It’s a reminder that while evil may triumph for a season, it cannot win forever. The avenger of the oppressed does not sleep. Just like Cain, marked forever after slaying Abel, Denzel’s killers carry a curse—one that may trail their footsteps for generations.
To Baba and Mama Denzel, take heart. The Psalms remind us, “Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning.” May your morning come soon. May your sorrow be turned into strength. May you rise with hope toward that promised Resurrection Morn.
Rest well, Denzel. Till we meet again at the Resurrection Morning.
The author is an elder at Sabaki Central SDA Church, where Denzel worshipped.