DAR ES SALAAM, April 6 -- THERE is a quiet story that unfolds in many places, especially on the edges of cities and in rural areas.

A piece of land is left unused. Maybe the owner moved away. Maybe they passed on and no one followed up. Then someone else comes in.

At first, it is temporary, a small structure, a place to sleep. Then seasons pass, they plant crops, they build more. Children are born. Years turn into something deeper than time; they turn into attachment.

People begin to say it out loud, sometimes joking, sometimes serious: “After all these years, this land is basically theirs.”

It sounds simple, it feels fair. But the law does not move on feelings alone. It asks a more careful question. When does staying on l...