What steps should you take when the land, imbued with family history and pride, threatens to disappear? For me, it felt like teetering on a cliff’s edge with no lifeline. My late dad’s land wasn’t just dirt; it was our roots, our story. But when greedy relatives dragged me to court, claiming it wasn’t mine, my world started to unravel. I had the title deed, witnesses, and proof my father entrusted me with it.
But in Kenyan courtrooms, truth often takes a backseat to connections, cash, and clout. At the first hearing, I was floored. My once-respected uncle showed up with a slick lawyer, spinning lies and flashing fake documents. My heart sank; I was losing. Sleep escaped me. I’d lie awake, picturing strangers on our land, my kids left with nothing, and the sting of losing what’s rightfully mine. Friends urged me to brace for defeat or sell part of it swiftly to save something. Continue Reading.