No Dead Capital in a Home That Tells Your Story

Raila Odinga’s resting place at Opoda Farm. Photo/ Courtesy

By Nyang’au Araka

The written word never really grows old but lies in wait; quiet, patient, biding its time until the world circles back to its wisdom or its sting.

Years after Dr Bitange Ndemo penned his famous article about “dead capital,” his words have found new life, revived by a cheeky Facebook post from journalist Ted Malanda.

In 2018, Dr Ndemo, one of Kenya’s most respected scholars, wrote what arguably became one of the most widely read, shared, reshared and discussed opinions.

He confessed that his rural home was “dead capital”; property that earned nothing, yielded no rent, and could not be sold.

The scholar concluded that building a house upcountry had impoverished him and chastised Africa’s love affair with ancestral homes as economically unwise.

This week, journalist Ted Malanda came in with a witty jab that reopened the debate as he wondered what would have happened if former Prime Minister Raila Odinga had reasoned as Ndemo once did.

Where would Mama Ida be receiving mourners vibrating with juogi? Where would Junior have buried his father? Where would the cows have been left?

I reflected on those playful questions and felt that not all value is financial, and not every asset must yield rent to prove its worth.

This conversation is coming at a time when many are moving to towns but, as previously argued, home is best.

A rural home’s true return is emotional, not monetary as it shelters memory, anchors identity and gives dignity to both the living and the dead.

A rural home may not earn a cent, yet it pays in ways money never can.

It pays when your children know where their grandparents rest, and does the same when grief strikes and there is still ground solid enough to hold your sorrow.

The Opoda Farm in Bondo is not merely a residence but a symbol of continuity, a gathering place for a family and, often, a nation.

When Odinga was laid to rest, it was the homestead that held the mourners, not a rented tent in Nairobi.

When history visits that family, the farm stands ready to receive it.

Surely the farm is not dead capital but a living heritage.

Dr Ndemo’s thoughts were understandable as many indeed overbuild, sinking millions into houses that stand locked and lonely.

Yet to dismiss the very idea of a home as wasteful is to strip life of its rootedness.

Perhaps the wiser path lies in moderation; to build within one’s means, but still build something that carries meaning, so long as there is space to do it.

The truth is, love and belonging are also forms of capital and the peace of mind a home brings, the pride it preserves, and the sense of lineage it maintains are not things that can be banked or borrowed, but they sustain the spirit far longer than cash flow ever will.

When the city lights dim, when titles fade and the phone stops ringing, as Ndemo once said of his last day in office, the only thing that endures is the home.  

So, perhaps it’s time we dropped the phrase “dead capital” at least where good homes are concerned.

A home is not a lifeless investment but a living testament that tells the world that you belonged somewhere, dreamed and planted your heart in familiar soil.

And if that is not wealth, then nothing else is.

-The author is a member of the Kisii Press Club

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