On the coastal plains of Kwale County, sugarcane grows thick and tall. From a distance, the fields appear to be a success story: green, orderly, and productive.
For years, they have served as visual evidence of a grand promise – that large-scale private investment could transform rural Kenya.
However, for many families in Ramisi, this promise has not materialised. Instead, their narrative has become intertwined with one of the costliest legal defeats faced by the Kenyan state.
On the coastal plains of Kwale County, sugarcane grows thick and tall. From a distance, the fields look like a success story: green, orderly, productive.
For years, they have been used as visual proof of a grand promise – that large-scale private investment could transform rural Kenya.
But for many families in Ramisi, the promise never materialised.
Instead, their story has become entangled in one of the most expensive legal defeats the Kenyan state has faced in recent years: a court-ordered payout of approximately Sh 24 billion to Kwale International Sugar Company Limited (KISCOL).
The ruling has raised uncomfortable questions about land, power and accountability – and about who ultimately bears the cost when the state fails to keep its word.
A flagship investment
KISCOL was conceived as a transformative project. Established in the late 2000s, it was designed as a modern, integrated sugar operation, combining milling, power generation and commercial farming across an estimated 15,000 acres in Kwale.
The company is majority-owned by Pabari Investments, a multinational group with interests across Africa and Asia, alongside Omnicane Limited, a Mauritius-based conglomerate with extensive experience in sugar production.
At its launch, the project was welcomed by successive governments. It promised thousands of jobs, stable markets for outgrower farmers and a new industrial anchor for the Coast’s economy.
But from the outset, there was a problem that never went away: land.
Land that was never settled
Under its agreement with the government, KISCOL was guaranteed “quiet and peaceful possession” of the land it leased. That assurance proved difficult to deliver.
Significant portions of the land were occupied by local residents who claimed ancestral ownership. Other parcels were subject to competing claims, including allocations to mining interests. Court cases multiplied. Protests erupted. Tensions simmered between communities, the company and the state.
For farmers supplying cane to the mill, the instability translated into delays, interruptions and uncertainty. For KISCOL, it meant a project that never reached full operational capacity.
For years, the dispute remained unresolved.
The case that changed everything
In December 2025, the High Court delivered its judgement. It found that the government had breached its obligations to KISCOL by failing to secure uncontested access to the leased land.
The consequences were substantial.
The court awarded the company compensation for capital already invested, as well as projected losses stemming from the project’s inability to operate as planned. The total: roughly Sh24 billion, before interest and legal costs.
What followed surprised even seasoned observers. The government did not appeal.
There was no detailed public explanation. No immediate parliamentary inquiry. No official review of how a project so visibly troubled for so long had resulted in such a costly outcome for taxpayers.
Silence and unease
The lack of an appeal has fuelled public unease, particularly in Kwale.
Local leaders who are typically vocal on land and development issues have been noticeably restrained. Parliamentary debate on the matter has been limited. Media scrutiny, while present, has struggled to sustain momentum.
For farmers in Ramisi, the silence has been as unsettling as the ruling itself.
Many say they were never meaningfully consulted during the project’s development. Others describe years of waiting – for payments, for clarity, for resolution. They watch now as a vast sum is prepared for disbursement, even as their own grievances remain unresolved.
The men behind the company
At the centre of KISCOL are two figures whose influence has attracted growing attention.
Harshil Kotecha, a director of the company, is its most recognisable public representative. Soft-spoken and measured, he projects a low-key image that contrasts sharply with the scale of the dispute now associated with the project.
His business partner, Kaushik Pabari, is far less visible. Insiders describe him as strategic and deeply familiar with navigating complex regulatory and political environments.
While the Sh 24 billion judgement affirms KISCOL’s legal position, critics say, the case illustrates how well-resourced investors can pursue redress through the legal system – while affected communities struggle to be heard.
A broader pattern
Legal analysts note that the ruling reflects a clear principle: when the state enters commercial agreements, it must honour them. Failure to do so carries consequences.
Yet the case has also exposed deeper structural weaknesses.
Land tenure disputes remain pervasive in Kenya, particularly in coastal regions where historical injustices, unclear records and overlapping allocations persist.
Large-scale investments, critics argue, continue to be approved before these issues are resolved – transferring risk from the state to citizens.
In this case, that risk has crystallised into a multi-billion-shilling liability.
Who ultimately pays?
For the Treasury, the payout represents a significant fiscal burden. For ordinary Kenyans, it raises questions about priorities.
Why did warnings go unheeded for so long?
Why were land disputes not resolved before leases were issued?
And why, when the judgement came, was there no visible effort to challenge it?
For farmers in Ramisi, the questions are more personal.
They continue to farm contested land. They continue to wait for compensation, services and certainty. And they wonder what lesson the state has learnt from their experience.
An unresolved ending
The sugarcane still grows in Kwale. The mill still stands. The court’s ruling remains in force.
What lingers is a sense that this story is about more than one company or one judgement. It is about how power is exercised – and how quietly – when public failure meets private capital.
The government will pay. The investor has won.
But in the fields where the promise began, many feel the real cost is still being borne by those with the least voice in the process.
