Stop land grabbing, stop selectivity

The demolition of property linked to Kiambu Governor Kimani Wamatangi early this week in Nairobi’s off Lang’ata Road has reignited a long-simmering national debate on land grabbing, state power, and the thin line between justice and political vendetta.

While the reclamation of public land is both lawful and necessary, the manner in which it is conducted matters just as much as the outcome. Selective enforcement risks undermining public confidence and turning a legitimate governance exercise into a tool for settling political scores.

Kenya’s history of land grabbing is well documented. From riparian reserves and road reserves to forests and school land, public property has for decades been illegally appropriated by politically connected individuals, senior bureaucrats, corporations, and even religious institutions. Successive governments have promised action, but enforcement has often been sporadic, inconsistent, and influenced by the prevailing political winds.

The demolition in Kiambu has therefore drawn sharp reactions not merely because of the identity of the affected individual, but because of the broader question it raises on why some cases, and not others?

Across the country, glaring illegal developments remain untouched despite clear court rulings, audit reports, and public outrage. When action appears concentrated on specific individuals especially those perceived to be politically inconvenient it fuels suspicion that the law is being weaponised.

Reclaiming public land should never be about humiliation, intimidation, or public spectacle. It should be about restoring what belongs to the people through a transparent, rules-based process anchored in due process. This means issuing proper notices, respecting court orders, offering avenues for appeal, and ensuring that enforcement agencies act independently rather than at the behest of political actors.

The danger of selective demolitions is twofold.

First, it erodes the credibility of the very institutions tasked with enforcing the law. Agencies such as the National Land Commission, county governments, and enforcement authorities must be seen as impartial custodians of public interest, not instruments of political retribution. Second, it normalises impunity for those who remain protected by political proximity, wealth, or silence—perpetuating the very injustice land reforms seek to correct.

Equally important is consistency across political divides. If land grabbing is wrong, it must be wrong whether the offender is a sitting governor, a cabinet secretary, a powerful tycoon, or a politically connected developer. Justice cannot depend on one’s relationship with the regime of the day. The Constitution demands equality before the law, not selective accountability.

As Kenya moves deeper into a politically charged period ahead of the 2027 general election, the risk of state institutions being dragged into political battles will only grow. Land enforcement must therefore be insulated from politics now more than ever. Failure to do so will harden perceptions that anti-grab campaigns are less about reform and more about control.

If the government is serious about ending land grabbing, it must do so boldly, evenly, and without fear or favour. Anything less risks turning a just cause into another chapter of political contestation and denying the public the justice they have waited for decades to see.

By Gilbert Ochieng.