The Deal That Looked Too Good

He came to my office one Thursday morning, a brown envelope in hand and a bounce in his stride. Dan is a mechanic who had been saving for years, quietly tucking away shillings with one dream; to own a small plot of land he could one day pass down to his children. His voice had that familiar mix of hope and hesitation as he leaned in and said, “Ken, nime angukia, mali safi!”

The plot was just 1/8 of an acre tucked within a sweeping 5-acre piece in Limuru. The seller spoke confidently, painted visions of future value, and had even shown him a subdivision plan that made everything feel legitimate. And the price? Let’s just say it was the kind of discount that made your palms itch with urgency.

But as we sat down to examine the copy of title to the land, the façade began to crack.

The title deed? It was for the entire 5 acres—no trace of Dan’s little slice in sight. Even worse, the land was charged to a bank for a Kshs 15 million loan. That meant the whole estate, his 1/8 included, was collateral. I paused, giving Dan time to process. He blinked slowly.

Still, he clutched to hope. “The seller said the money from the sale was meant to offset the loan and subdivision was done. He showed me the layout. It’s all mapped out.”

I nodded. “But a successful subdivision doesn’t end with a sketch. It ends with individual titles. The mother title should’ve been surrendered to the Lands Registrar. Without that, it’s just promises floating in ink.”

Dan leaned back, his fingers tapping the table, the weight of doubt pressing down. His friend had warned him once: “Hii mtaa, shamba inaweza kupea legacy ama kesi. Choose wisely.”

I saw the war play out inside him, his desire to build something permanent battling against the quiet voice of caution. “He’s offering a good deal,” he said, barely above a whisper.

I didn’t flinch. “If he defaults on his loan, the bank takes everything. Even your 1/8. And you’ll be left chasing shadows in court.”

Silence settled like dust in a courtroom. Then I added: “A good deal should be like daylight; clear, warm, without shadows. It’s better to pay market price and sleep easy, than to gamble on a bargain that comes with a question mark.”

Dan nodded slowly. The shine in his eyes had changed, it wasn’t extinguished, just wiser.

He didn’t buy the land. But he bought time, and maybe, just maybe, he avoided becoming the next cautionary statistic on the dailies.

So, I ask you: Would you rather chase bargains that vanish with the morning mist or plant your dreams where the soil is steady, and the title is truly yours?