On 16th of January 2026, the High Court brought to an end a 30-year-old succession drama following the death of a wealthy patriarch in 1980, sixteen years prior to the start of the High Court case. The Netflix worthy drama in Succession Cause Number 176 of 1996 starred the late Chemwok Chemitei, his five wives, 31 children, and 253.72 acres of prime farmland that was the basis of the movie themed “Land disputes are the only inheritance guaranteed to outlive heirs.”

Chemwok, like many patriarchs of his era, practiced the “house‑based” system of equity. Each wife got her parcel, each household its domain. House 1 had 92 acres, House 2 had 22 acres etc. To traditionalists, this was fairness: you measure by household, not by headcount. But then came the 2010 Constitution, with its shiny Article 27 declaring equality for all individuals. Suddenly, the math changed. Justice Nyakundi looked at House 1’s children inheriting 13 acres each while House 2’s offspring scraped by with less than three. He called it “gross inequality.” Cue the Great Equalization.

The court’s solution was simple and mathematically elegant: divide the land equally among all 31 children. Each gets 8.18 acres, no matter which mother bore them. The court even ordered “physical transfers” of land, House 1 had to surrender 35 acres to House 2 for instance, just to make the math balance perfectly. Equality achieved, applause all around. Except, truth be told, an 8‑acre plot is a lifestyle farm, not a large scale farming business. Equality may satisfy the Constitution, but it starves the economy of large tracts of land that have greater economic benefit from a food production perspective.

Now, here’s the kicker. The heirs didn’t have to divvy up the land into smaller pieces. The judgment offered alternatives: cash compensation instead of soil redistribution. Houses with excess land could pay those with less, keeping the big farms intact. Families could stay on their habitual residences, avoiding relocation chaos. But 30 years of a court case had already demonstrated that consensus was always going to be elusive.

Now put on your governance and business continuity hat on here. Imagine if the heirs had agreed to treat the estate like a company. Each child gets shares, dividends flow from farm profits and the primary asset, being fertile land, is preserved for the benefit of future generations. Of course, that would presume that the family would have the wherewithal to set up the appropriate governance structures that separated family from management, hire professionals to run the farm or to lease the farm to an established agribusiness and enter into a profit share for onward distribution to shareholders.

One can argue that not all families can come together to do business together when the patriarch dies. The patriarch would have been the unifying factor that would drive the vision to set up a productive vehicle through which his heirs would benefit post-mortem. But we must also remember this was back in the late 70s, and the founder’s passing in June 1980 pre-dated the passing of the new constitution 30 years later in 2010 that has driven this “equitable” outcome of asset distribution.

The case also featured a subplot: land bought by the widows after Chemwok’s death, using proceeds from sale of Chemwok’s cattle. Registered in their names and shared among the five houses, these parcels were excluded from Chemwok’s estate by the High Court. Two daughters argued they should be included under a “resulting trust.” However, the judge disagreed as evidence was fuzzy, intent unclear and, besides, the widows had held the titles in their own names for decades.

So, what do we learn? First, that succession law is where lofty constitutional ideals collide with gritty economic realities. Secondly, that courts can offer flexible frameworks such as cash compensation or profit‑sharing, but families often choose litigation over consensus. Third, that Kenya’s obsession with title deeds is already undermining its agricultural potential. Classic examples are visible with the dissection of agricultural land in Kiambu, Kajiado, Laikipia, Kilifi and wherever land hungry Kenyans are craving for a 50m by 100m piece of pie. In this succession cause, thirty‑one equal owners may feel empowered, but none can run a farm that feeds the nation.

In the end, the Chemwok heirs got their equality. Each stands proudly on 8.18 acres, equal in dignity, equal in title, equal in limitation. The case should give land and business owners some food for thought. What is the best gift one can give their children and subsequent progeny to ensure hard earned assets are used wisely postmortem? Perhaps the most equitable inheritance is a set of assets generating a cash income for all beneficiaries in posterity.

X: @carolmusyoka

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