Before she passed away, my mother – Nanay Teresa – was still very lucid. She sat upright on a bamboo bed in her house in Batangas, calling each of her children to give her instructions, even about the funeral, even about the incense burning on All Saints’ Day. What made us the most restless was the money she had saved all her life – it was said to be around ₱400,000.

All of my siblings were anxiously waiting for her to divide it up, but for several days she called her children and grandchildren, but she never mentioned the money. She just smiled, her voice weak but firm:

– “Lahat ay inayos ko na. Mga anak, huwag na kayong mag-away.”

It was reassuring to hear, but inside everyone was burning, both loving their mother and thinking heavily about that money.

Surprise at the Funeral

When Nanay Teresa passed away, the whole family finished the funeral, everyone breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that after the funeral, it would be time to open the cupboard and divide the assets. Some sisters even whispered:

– “Siguro hinati na ni Nanay, may parte tayong lahat.”
– “Oo, matalino si Nanay, hindi tayo malulugi.”

But unexpectedly, at that moment, the barangay captain and several commune officials suddenly appeared, carrying a thick envelope. Everyone was surprised. He opened it and read aloud:

– “Ito ang huling habilin ni Aling Teresa bago siya pumanaw. The halagang ₱400,000 ay ipinadala na niya sa barangay fund, para ipatayo ang tulay na tatawid sa ilog ng baryo. Sabi niya: ‘Mga anak ko puwedeng lumayo, pero ang tulay na ito ang magliligtas sa buong baryo habambuhay.’”

The whole family was stunned. All the hopes and petty calculations in their heads suddenly disappeared. The sisters looked at each other, too embarrassed to raise their heads. I choked up and cried.

The secret letter

But the shock did not stop there. The barangay captain continued reading:

– “Bukod dito, may iniwang sulat si Aling Teresa para sa bunso.”

I opened the envelope with trembling hands. Inside was only a piece of paper, written in my mother’s shaky handwriting:

“Anak, alam kong magagalit ang mga kapatid mo, pero tiwala akong maiintindihan mo. Ang pera ay para sa buong baryo, iyon ang pamana ng kabutihan. Pero para sa iyo, bumalik ka sa bahay at buksan ang kahong kahoy sa ilalim ng kama ni Nanay…”

The whole family rushed to my mother’s room. When we opened the old wooden chest, we were stunned: inside was not money, but a stack of land titles for rice fields in Cavite and a thick diary.

In the diary, Nanay Teresa clearly wrote: that piece of land was not for sale, nor was it divided. It was tied to a big secret about Ama Ramon – my father in the past. And just reading the first few lines, I trembled, almost collapsing…

Part 2: The Secret in the Diary

I trembled as I turned the first pages of the old diary that Nanay Teresa had left behind. Her familiar handwriting was clear, each line like a knife cutting into my heart:

“Anak, you must be strong when you read this. The truth about Ama Ramon is not what you think. He was a loving father, but he carried a secret that he never dared to tell…”

I swallowed hard and continued reading.

The Secret of the Bastard

“Many years ago, when he was still a worker in a sugar factory in Batangas, Ama Ramon had an unfinished love affair with a girl in the village. She became pregnant, but because of her poor family background, she left for Manila to work. Before leaving, she gave the baby to the priest to raise. Ama Ramon knew about it, but at that time he was engaged to his mother. He was tormented all his life.”

I was speechless. So that means… besides us, there is another child – of the same blood, of the same flesh and blood.

Nanay Teresa continued in the diary pages:

“I forgive Ama Ramon, because we were newly married. He only asked for one thing: if he has the means in the future, please find and help that child. That is also the reason why I set aside a piece of land in Cavite – not to sell, but so that one day, when he returns, he will have support.”

My hands trembled, my heart pounded. I looked up and saw my siblings looking at each other in amazement. Everyone was stunned, no one could say a word.

The Debt of Gratitude

In the last pages, Nanay Teresa also wrote:

“Ama Ramon’s illegitimate child has never left us. He is still around here, in this very village. You have seen him, met him, but you do not know him. He lives under the priest’s surname, because the priest is the one who raised him. He has helped our village for many years, silently, without a word of complaint.”

Suddenly, I remembered the image of Kuya Elias, the village church fund manager – gentle, always helping the villagers, never married. Rumors have it that he is “an orphan raised by the priest”. Could it be… him?

The storm arose

My sisters began to make noise:
– “No way! Why did you hide this?”
– “The land of Cavite was for… an illegitimate child? What about us?”

I was silent, but inside I was like a storm. If what my mother said was true, then we had another half-brother. And the property – it should not belong to us, but to him.

But it did not stop there. On the last page, Nanay Teresa’s trembling handwriting wrote:

“Youngest son, after the funeral, go see Elias. Give him this diary and the red book. That is the last will of your father and mother.”

The whole room fell into silence. My brothers and sisters protested, but I could only hug the diary tightly, tears streaming down my face.

This secret, if made public, would tear my family in two.

Part 3: The Truth Revealed

The next afternoon, when Nanay Teresa’s funeral had just ended, I – Asha – held the diary and trembled as I went to the small church at the end of the village, where Kuya Elias lived with the priest.

He was sweeping the yard, a thin figure, with silver-flecked hair and gentle eyes. I approached him, my legs heavy:

– “Kuya Elias… I need to talk.”

I handed him the diary. Elias silently read each page, his hands trembling. When he read the part about Ama Ramon being his biological father, his eyes were filled with tears. He fell to his knees, his voice choked:

– “So… the truth has finally been told.”

I burst into tears. At that moment, I didn’t know whether I should call him “Kuya” (brother) or “Kuya… kapatid” (half-brother).

Family turmoil

When I brought Elias home with the diary, my siblings immediately went berserk.

The eldest sister Justina banged on the table:

“No! This property is ours. Mom can’t give it to an outsider like that!”

The second brother Ramon Jr. gritted his teeth:

“The land of Cavite is worth millions of pesos, it can’t be handed over just for a few pages of the diary!”

I hugged the diary tightly to my chest, tears rolling down my face:

“Mom wrote it clearly. This is her will. Elias is not an outsider, but our blood brother!”

The atmosphere in the house was as tense as a string about to snap. The sisters all accused me of “betraying my own blood”, while Elias only bowed his head, his eyes red:

– “If you don’t accept, I won’t dare accept either. I’ve been used to living in the dark all my life…”

The climax exploded

The village chief, who had witnessed it from the beginning, slammed his fist on the table:
– “Mga anak, huwag kayong makasarili! (Children, stop being selfish!) Teresa left the money to the village, and the land of Cavite to Elias. That was her last wish. Do you dare to argue with your mother’s spirit?”

That sentence was like a knife piercing everyone’s heart. But instead of calming down, Justina shouted:
– “No! I can’t let an illegitimate child take what should be ours!”

I jumped up, looked straight at her:
– “If you still love your mother, then respect her last words. This is not about money, but about the honor and blessings of the family.”

The whole house was filled with quarrels, crying, and the sound of chairs and tables being knocked over. No one would give in.

Asha’s Choice

In the midst of the chaos, I stepped forward, my voice trembling but clear:
– “If you do not accept, I – as the keeper of Nanay’s last will – will take this matter to court. The law will decide. But remember, once it reaches the barangay and the state, the whole village will know that you have betrayed your mother’s last wishes.”

The whole room was stunned. The sisters looked at each other, their faces drained of blood. Elias burst into tears, holding my trembling hand:
– “Asha… you don’t have to do that. As long as you consider me part of the family, I am satisfied.”

But I shook my head, clutching the diary:
– “No, Kuya. Mother left this secret to you not to bury it, but to bring the truth to light. And for him to be recognized, even if it is late.”

Outside, the Batangas sky suddenly began to rain, thunder rumbled. In the small house, my family stood at the threshold of a decision: either reunite with the truth, or be torn apart by greed.

And I – Asha – understood that this battle had only just begun…