A RUDE REAL ESTATE DEVELOPER ORDERED TO DEMOLITE A GRANDMOTHER’S Shack IN THE MIDDLE OF A TYPHOON BECAUSE IT WAS A VIEW OF HIS CONDO TO BE BUILT, BUT HE WAS STUNNED AND SHOCKED WHEN AUTHORITIES ARRIVED WITH A SUPREME COURT REPRESENTATIVE

The sound of heavy equipment rumbled through a remote sitio in Rizal. It was raining heavily, and the sky seemed to be joining in with the cries of residents being forcibly evicted from their homes. In the midst of the chaos, stood Mr. Dante Toribio, the owner of Toribio Land Developers. He was wearing an expensive raincoat, mud-proof leather shoes, and holding a megaphone.

“Tear it down! All of it! Leave nothing behind!” Dante shouted to his demolition team. “This land needs to be cleaned before our new luxury condominium breaks ground tomorrow! I don’t want to see even one squatter here!”

In front of a small, patchwork shack made of old corrugated iron and plywood, Grandma Selya knelt. She was over seventy years old, her thin body trembling from the cold and fear. She hugged an old wooden trunk.

“Sir, please have mercy on me,” Grandma Selya pleaded, sobbing. “I was born here. My husband died here too. I have nowhere else to go. At least give me a few days to find somewhere to move.”

Dante approached Grandma Selya. He looked her up and down with a mixture of disgust.

“How many days? I gave you notice three months ago! How stubborn you are!” Dante shouted. “Do you know how much I lose every hour that your stinking house is still here? You’re a disgrace to the view! You look so ugly! You poor people, you don’t contribute to society anymore, you’re the ones who are causing trouble!”

“Sir, we’re human too…” the old man whispered.

“Human? Do you look human in that state? You’re like rats living in a hole!” In a fit of anger, Dante kicked the old trunk that Grandma Selya was hugging. It splashed into the mud and opened. Old photos and a thick envelope wrapped in plastic scattered.

“Demolish her house! Now!” Dante ordered.

The bulldozer roared. It was about to rush towards the small house when suddenly a black SUV blocked its path. Three men in suits and police officers quickly got out.

“Stop the demolition!” shouted a man carrying a briefcase.

The bulldozer operator stopped. Dante frowned. “Who are you? I am the owner of this land! I have a permit from the Mayor!”

Page: SAY – Story Around You | Original Story

The man in a suit approached. He was a lawyer, Attorney Robles, known and respected throughout the country.

“Mr. Toribio,” the lawyer said seriously. “I am the legal counsel of the real owner of this land. And the title you are holding? A fake.”

Dante laughed out loud. “Fake? I bought it for 50 million pesos! Who are you referring to as the owner? Maybe a ghost?”

Attorney Robles quietly picked up the plastic envelope that had spilled from Lola Selya’s trunk earlier. He wiped the mud off it and slowly handed it to Lola Selya, who was being helped to her feet by the police.

“Not a ghost, Mr. Toribio,” the lawyer replied. “She’s in front of you.”

Everyone looked at Grandma Selya. The old woman he called ‘trash’ and ‘rat’ trembled as she accepted the envelope.

“Donya Araceli ‘Selya’ Mondragon,” the lawyer introduced herself. “The sole heiress of the Mondragon Estate, which covers the entire 50 hectares of this land, including the one where your office is located on the other corner.”

Dante turned pale. It was as if cold water had been poured on him. “T-That’s not true! That’s just an old madman!”

“This is the Original Certificate of Title (OCT) from the 1950s,” the lawyer explained as he showed the document. “The title you are holding is a Transfer Certificate of Title (TCT) that was proven to be forged by the syndicate you bought it from. Donya Selya has been missing for a long time because she chose to live a simple life after being cheated by her own family in the past. But now, she has come out to defend the people she considered family here in the sitio.”

Grandma Selya looked at Dante. There was no longer any fear in her eyes, but pity and sadness.

“Mr. Toribio,” Grandma Selya said softly. “You may be rich in money, but you have a very bad attitude. You think that because we live in a shack, we have no rights. The land, that is not taken to the pit. But the evil of your attitude, that is what people will remember.”

“Grandma… Donya Selya…” Dante stammered, slowly kneeling in the mud. “W-We can talk about this. I’ll pay you. I’ll double it…”

“You can’t buy dignity, hijo,” replied Lola Selya.

Attorney Robles turned to the police. “Officer, arrest him. There’s an arrest warrant against Mr. Toribio for Falsification of Public Documents, Grave Coercion, and Illegal Demolition.”

“Don’t! You’re being so pitiful! My name will be ruined!” Dante shouted as he was handcuffed. The once proud developer, now had his expensive clothes covered in mud and was crying like a child.

As Dante was being loaded into the patrol car, his cellphone rang. The bank was calling—his assets were being foreclosed due to the discovery of fraud. In an instant, he had lost everything.

Grandma Selya turned to her neighbors who were stunned by the incident.

“Children,” she said, smiling even though she was wet from the rain. “No one will destroy your houses. I promise, we will fix this place. This land is yours.”

The people clapped and cried. In the end, the one they thought was the poorest among them was the one who held the key to their freedom. And the one who thought he was the king of the world, fell into his own pit of greed.