By Our Special Correspondent
The quiet village of Muraka in Kakamega County holds memories of a brilliant legal mind that rose from its soil—the late Justice David Majanja of the High Court. Yet, months after his death, his legacy is entangled in a bitter court feud that has torn his family apart and exposed deep-seated wounds that many say explain the controversial will at the centre of the dispute.
On the surface, the case appears straightforward: Justice Majanja died without a spouse or children and left a will bequeathing his entire estate—worth an estimated Ksh 22 million—to his youngest brother, Martin, with instructions to care for their elderly parents. Two of his sisters were excluded and have since moved to court, seeking to stop the execution of the will, arguing they risk being disinherited.
But beneath this legal frame lies a turbulent family history, one that close friends, villagers, and colleagues say reveals why the sisters are fighting—not out of greed, but out of a desire to honour their brother’s true intentions and protect his life’s work from what they call “a rewrite of history.”
A Childhood Marked by Pain
Those who knew Majanja intimately speak of a man deeply scarred by his early years. He grew up in a home where his mother endured profound suffering. Villagers in Muraka still recall how Majanja, then a young boy, was the first to discover his mother’s lifeless body—a trauma that haunted him into adulthood and, some believe, influenced his decision never to marry.
After her death, his father remarried a university professor who, despite later divorcing Majanja’s father, is remembered fondly for stepping in to raise and educate Majanja and his two sisters. “She was the parent they needed when their own father had moved on,” a village elder recounted.
Mzee Majanja later began a relationship with a Kamba woman, who brought with her a son from a previous relationship—Martin, the very beneficiary named in the will. Family sources insist Majanja and Martin never shared a childhood, a home, or a bond. “They did not grow up together. Their lives only intersected much later,” said a close friend of the late judge.
Success and Estrangement
Despite the estrangement from his father, Majanja rose to prominence, becoming a respected High Court judge. He built his father a home, bought him a car, and later acquired a house on Riara Road in Nairobi, where he lived with his younger sister, supporting her fully until his sudden death.
It was here, friends say, that Majanja’s final wishes were made clear: he wanted to be cremated, not buried at his father’s home. That wish was honoured at Kariokor Crematorium.
The Mysterious Will and Immediate Aftermath
Shortly after his death, a will surfaced leaving everything to Martin. The sisters were stunned. They argued that the document contradicted Majanja’s lifelong affections and responsibilities. Matters escalated when, according to sources, their father arrived at the Riara Road home, forced the younger sister out, and moved in with his partner and her son, taking control of the property and vehicles.
“This isn’t just about inheritance,” a judiciary colleague familiar with the case told Nyanza Daily. “It’s about respecting the wishes of a man who, despite his childhood pain, cared for his family, especially his sisters. That will does not reflect his heart.”
Legal Standpoint and Moral Questions
Under Kenyan law, siblings have no automatic claim to a brother’s estate if he leaves a valid will—unless they prove undue influence, fraud, or that the will violates provisions for dependants. Here, the sisters are seeking to have the estate distributed as if Majanja died intestate, which would include them as beneficiaries since he had no spouse or children.
But beyond the letters of the law, moral questions loom large:
· Did Majanja truly intend to leave his sisters with nothing?
· Was the will made under clear and free intention?
· Is the estate being used to care for the elderly parents as stated, or has it been taken over for other purposes?
The elderly parents, both in frail health, are caught in the middle—dependent on the estate for medical care, yet now seeing those funds frozen by the court injunction.
A Story Waiting for the Wind to Blow
As one village elder philosophised, “One day, the wind will blow and reveal the chicken’s anus.” For now, the court must decide whether to uphold the written will or look into the heart of a family’s painful history.
What is clear is that this case is more than a legal tussle over millions—it is about a man’s unhealed wounds, a father’s contested legacy, and two sisters fighting for what they believe was their brother’s true wish.
The judiciary, where Majanja served with distinction, watches closely as the case unfolds—a painful postscript to the life of a judge who spent his career interpreting the law, now become the subject of a controversy he could never have foreseen.
The hearing continues.
