In the quiet woodlands near Jedburgh, a small Scottish town nestled in the Borders, an unusual saga has unfolded over the past week. The Kingdom of Kubala, a self-styled “African tribe” led by Ghanaian Kofi Offeh and his wife Jean Gasho, has become the center of a legal and cultural standoff after their eviction from privately-owned land—only for them to set up a new camp just a few feet away, igniting a fresh round of court battles and public debate.
The drama began in earnest on Friday, September 12, 2025, when Sheriff Peter Paterson issued a warrant for the removal of the Kingdom of Kubala from woodland near Jedburgh. The group, which includes Offeh (the self-proclaimed King Atehene), Gasho (Queen Nandi), and American Kaura Taylor (known as handmaiden Asnat), had been camping in the area for several weeks. They claim their presence is an act of reclaiming land stolen from their ancestors four centuries ago—a narrative that has drawn both intrigue and skepticism from locals and officials alike, according to BBC and STV News.
The eviction order was the result of a civil action brought by landowners Mary and David Palmer, who, through their lawyer Conner McConnell, sought the "removal of occupiers on the basis of no right to title." The group had already ignored a previous notice instructing them to leave by 5pm on Monday, September 8, 2025. The sheriff's order came into effect immediately, setting the stage for Tuesday morning’s dramatic events.
At 8am on Tuesday, September 16, five sheriff officers, accompanied by four police officers, arrived at the camp to carry out the eviction. The officials spent about ninety minutes on site, dismantling tents and packing up the group’s belongings. Despite the early hour and the official presence, the atmosphere was tense but nonviolent. There were no arrests, and the group complied by moving their possessions—though not very far. As the officers left, the trio simply crossed a damaged wire fence and began setting up camp again, this time on land that, as it later turned out, belonged to the Scottish Borders Council.
“No-one has been able to move us, no-one will be able to move us. We live each day as it comes. Wherever the creator sends us we shall go, until then we remain steadfast,” Offeh told Greatest Hits Radio, expressing a defiance that has become characteristic of the group’s public statements. Speaking to reporters at the campsite, he added, “The creator of the heavens and the Earth is the one with us. We are not afraid of whatever the court—the so-called court—has granted.” When asked about their next move, Offeh replied, “If the creator of the heavens and the Earth wants us to move from this land, he shall find us a place to go.”
The Kingdom of Kubala’s story is not just about a disputed encampment. Offeh and Gasho first arrived in Jedburgh in the spring of 2025, initially setting up camp on a hillside above the town before moving to the woodland near an industrial estate. Taylor, originally from Texas, joined them as “handmaiden” Asnat. The group’s claim of ancestral rights to the land—citing a 400-year-old injustice—has been met with a mixture of curiosity and criticism. Local councillor Scott Hamilton, deputy leader of Scottish Borders Council, has been vocal about the legal issues at play, stating, “They have rebuffed every opportunity to engage with us. We can help them, but we won’t sit back and let them break the law.”
Hamilton described the eviction as the result of “a combination of hard work from police, the courts, the landowner and the council,” emphasizing the authorities’ desire to ensure the wellbeing of all involved, including any potentially vulnerable adults. “We want to ensure that if there’s any vulnerable adults there we want to have them protected and ensure that the right care is there, but they have rejected on every account,” Hamilton told the press.
The group’s presence has not gone unnoticed online. With more than 100,000 followers on Facebook and TikTok, the Kingdom of Kubala has cultivated a global audience, sharing their experiences and beliefs with viewers far beyond the Scottish Borders. Their growing online following has brought worldwide media attention and, in some cases, concern from relatives abroad. Taylor’s aunt, Teri Allen, told the Daily Mail, “It is very stressful, and difficult. It breaks our heart. We’re overly concerned about Kaura, but she doesn’t think anyone is concerned about her.” Taylor herself responded publicly, posting to Facebook that she was not missing and was enjoying life with Offeh and Gasho.
Meanwhile, the legal saga continues. After discovering that the land the group moved onto post-eviction belongs to the council, Scottish Borders Council has begun fresh court proceedings to have the group evicted once more. This marks the third such attempt to remove the trio from land in the Jedburgh area since their arrival earlier in the year. The council’s stance is clear: while the group claims to be founding a new kingdom and reclaiming stolen land, their actions constitute a breach of the law and cannot be tolerated indefinitely.
The episode has sparked debate about land rights, historical grievances, and the limits of protest. While some locals express sympathy for the group’s sense of mission, others are frustrated by what they see as a flagrant disregard for property rights and legal processes. “The landowner had been left with no option but to seek an order from the sheriff,” Hamilton noted, adding that it was “disappointing—but not surprising—that the group had ignored the ultimatum to leave the site.”
For now, the Kingdom of Kubala remains encamped in the Jedburgh woods, steadfast in their convictions and awaiting the outcome of yet another court action. Whether their next move will take them further afield, or simply a few more feet over another fence, is anyone’s guess. But one thing is certain: their story has captured the imagination of many, raising questions about belonging, identity, and the meaning of home in modern Scotland.
As the sun sets over the Scottish Borders, the trio’s tents stand once more among the trees—a testament to both their resilience and the complexities of land, law, and belief in an ever-changing world.