I Bought Land After Pressure from My Friends, It Ended in Premium Tears

In Kenya, the average parcel of land in a prime area can cost more than ten times what many young professionals earn in a year. It is no surprise that more people are pooling resources with friends to enter the property market.

For those without family wealth, a high salary, or a partner to co-invest with, teaming up with friends often feels like the only way in. But buying land with friends is not a simple decision. It carries the same risks, responsibilities, and emotional negotiations as buying with a spouse, with one key difference: friendships rarely come with exit plans.

At some point, someone will want to cash out, develop the land, or move on. Without clear agreements in place, things can quickly get messy.

In recent years, land prices in hotspots like Kitengela, Juja, and Ruiru have surged. Plots are snapped up within days, and agents constantly push urgency.

Invariably, people make decisions they soon wish they hadn’t.

Well, I Wish I Hadn’t

At the end of 2021, my two friends and I dove headfirst into a decision I would later regret.

Sara, Fay, and I had done more or less everything together since we met at the university. Our friendship status was cemented by years of studying digital marketing together, countless hours of gossiping, sharing a flat, and moving to Nairobi, where we now work in separate advertising agencies.

At my workplace, I met Mike, who became another close friend. He soon became a good friend to my other friends as well, making it a group of four.

Neither of us had set out to buy a plot of land. But Sara had made “some money” through savings and bond returns. She was now eyeing an investment in land ownership and felt there were two options she could afford: a small 50×100 plot far from town bought alone, or teaming up with friends to buy a bigger piece of land in a fast-developing area. 

Desperate to invest and dreaming of future resale value, she chose the latter.

She approached us, and I immediately wished her the best, but refused to join the co-buying idea. I had so many reasons why I didn’t want to buy land yet, and one of them was the fact that I didn’t have the total amount needed to make it happen. Apart from that, I was wary of the dangers of buying a property with friends. 

So, while Fay and Mike entertained the idea, I made it clear that I wasn’t ready to buy land yet.

Later, Sara and Fay came over to visit, and while we were talking, they brought up the topic again. They genuinely wanted to know why I didn’t want to join them and buy a plot of land together. I explained myself again, but they didn’t seem to understand, or they just didn’t want to accept it.

“Even the newbie, Mike, is ready to invest,” teased Sara.

“Seriously, though, it’s going to be a great investment. With our financial status, we won’t be able to buy such a plot for years individually, but this way, we get to invest with much less and reap big when the value appreciates,” added Fay.

They spent the entire evening drilling reasons into my head that by the time they were leaving, I had said yes to the idea.

I emptied my savings account and took a loan from my SACCO to top up the amount needed.

We bought a 1/2-acre plot in a semi-rural area in Ruai for Ksh6 million, hoping that it would appreciate fast, raising our net worth in the process.

I was still scared, but I also had to admit that I was excited about buying land with my closest friends, becoming a landlord.

The Fall

But things unravelled quickly.

Not even a month after buying the land, we disagreed on what to do with the plot.

Sara wanted to develop rental units immediately, Mike suggested fencing it and waiting for appreciation, while Fay floated the idea of starting a greenhouse project. I just wanted my money to appreciate.

Everyone had a different vision, and no one was willing to compromise.

Then came the issue of paperwork. The land was registered under all four names, but Sara, who had handled most of the logistics, was holding the original title deed and refused to share a copy. When Mike insisted on having access to it for transparency, Sara accused him of being unreasonably suspicious.

When the time came to contribute to land rates and title processing fees, Mike delayed payments twice, claiming he was “a little tied up.” I got irritated because I had already borrowed to make my share, and tensions flared when Sara implied that anyone who wasn’t financially ready should never have joined in.

And the biggest blow was when Mike got a job transfer to Mombasa and wanted to sell his share, probably because trust had been broken. Neither of us had the money to buy him out, and suddenly we were stuck.

A year later, the regret hit like a tornado.

What had once felt like a bold financial move now felt like a slow-burning disaster. The land was still idle and untouched. 

We hadn’t spoken in months except through strained, passive-aggressive WhatsApp messages. We couldn’t agree on whether to sell, develop, or wait it out. Everyone wanted different things, and no one wanted to back down.

Eventually, Mike, frustrated and fed up, filed a case at the Lands Tribunal, demanding a formal split or forced sale. Honestly, I supported him until a lawyer friend told me the case could drag on for years. Worse still, the legal fees, valuations, consultations, and transport costs would almost be more than half the money I had poured into buying that plot.

I had lost money, time, peace, and my closest friends.

What Usually Happens

Pooling funds to buy land is becoming more common in Kenya, especially among friends seeking a foothold in an increasingly expensive market.

With prices rising faster than incomes, co-ownership often feels like the only viable path. Many opt for a “tenants in common” agreement, where each party owns a defined share of the land. When done right, it can offer access to prime plots, better resale potential, and shared development costs.

But the risks are real, too. Disagreements about use, sale timing, or development plans can stall progress for years. If one person wants to exit and the others don’t, everyone gets stuck.

Legal structures can help, such as co-ownership agreements, outlining exit strategies and financial expectations, but even those don’t shield relationships from tension.

Unlike couples who share life goals, friends may evolve differently. One might move away, another marry, and soon, the once-promising joint venture becomes a source of stress and loss.

The Golden Rules for Co-buying Property with Friends

• Know your friends’ financial habits. Can they commit long-term without defaulting?
• Have an honest money talk: savings, income, loans, and future financial goals.
• Decide upfront how you'll split land costs, including purchase, transfer fees, stamp duty, and legal charges.
• Agree on what the land will be used for: farming, resale, development, or holding for value.
• Have a clear exit plan: what happens if one person wants to sell or pull out early?
• Draft a legally binding co-ownership agreement outlining each person’s share and decision-making powers.
• Consider registering the land as “tenants in common” to reflect unequal contributions, if any.
• Plan for dispute resolution, like mediation, buyout clauses, or court (as a last resort, of course).
• Keep records of all payments made by each party.
• Don’t assume the land will appreciate—location, zoning, and market trends matter.

‍