Inheritance is a curious and deeply intriguing phenomenon. In our African context, it is far more than mere ideology; for many of us, it is an expected reality.

The irony of inheritance is striking: the very thing that promises a new beginning for one person is often activated only by the end of another’s life. The Bible does not shy away from this truth: “For a testament is of force after men are dead: otherwise, it is of no strength at all while the testator liveth” (Hebrews 9:17). One must therefore confront death honestly to fully grasp the gravity and finality of undisputed inheritance.

With death comes an undeniable weight. What has been spoken can never be unspoken.

Yet in many African families, what is passed down carries little dignity or value, neither gold nor silver, nor productive assets, nor even grazing land or livestock. Instead, far too many of us inherit something far more sinister: beefs and grudges.

This kind of inheritance works against the very nature of true heritage. Rather than adding value, it costs us our peace, our morals, our relationships, our connections, and ultimately our values. Cousins become mortal enemies over causeless, often untraceable conflicts. Funerals become the only common ground where long-lost kindred meet. What began as a dying man’s wish has been sustained by subsequent deaths and whispered words. Kinsmen have become strangers, while strangers sometimes prove closer than blood brothers.

Blood is no longer thicker than water; it has simply grown darker than water. And in our fear of that darkness, we turn instead toward what feels clearer and carries the DNA of light. In the process, we teach our children to hate, not because of any personal grievance, but because we ourselves still harbor it.

The painful reality is that this cycle may never end unless we first acknowledge it as a problem.

I am tired of these familiar beefs. If I must inherit anything, let it not be controversy. Our cousins’ WhatsApp groups rarely last beyond three months; once past the initial excitement, they often become breeding grounds for exploitation, unholy alliances, fresh grudges, and the destruction of old bonds.

Let us make a deliberate resolve: enough is enough.

Whatever my mother and my aunt are beefing about, let it remain between them. Whatever my late grandfather said about certain family members, let it die with him. The situation has become so serious that marriages between certain communities are still forbidden simply because one individual, long dead, was once hurt and chose to bruise entire generations in return.

A curse without cause cannot stand. Beyond superstition and wounded egos, legacies should be pure, continuous, and productive. Any legacy that leaves behind pain and frustration is not worth preserving.

Say no to inherited hatred, grudges, and beefs.

We are better together than apart. It is time to thicken our blood once again.