In Cebu City lived 82-year-old Lola Maria with her youngest son, Carlos, and his wife, Lina. Lately, the couple had noticed that Lola was becoming forgetful: sometimes she repeated the same questions, other times she forgot where she had left her things. One evening, while sitting on the terrace, Lina whispered to her husband:
“If we get Mom to sign the deed of transfer, the house will be ours.
It will be easy… she is old and gullible.”
“Yes. We’ll just tell her it’s a medical certificate. She won’t know it’s actually a transfer of ownership.”
The next day, they took Lola to the town hall, pretending it was for a medical checkup and the notarization of some “medical documents.”
In reality, they were having her sign a document transferring ownership of the house—valued at over five million pesos—to Carlos’s name.
When they returned home, the couple said:
“Mom, maybe you can stay with some relatives for now. We’re going to renovate the house to make it more beautiful.”
Lola Maria remained silent. Her husband, Lolo Ben, was furious.
That same night, he took Lola out of the house, carrying only a few clothes, and they left for his nephew’s house in Bohol province. 48 hours later
While Carlos and Lina were planning their “renovation,” a tricycle stopped in front of the house, carrying a large container. Lola Maria stepped out, wearing a traditional Barong Tagalog blouse, a hat, and carrying a large bucket of bagoong (fermented shrimp paste) that gave off a strong, pungent odor.
She quietly entered the courtyard and said,
“Did you think I was tricked? I’m not senile. I just pretended to be forgetful to see how far your greed would go.”
She looked directly at Lina.
“I recorded everything—your conversations, the contract you made me sign. The recorder, my lawyer, the barangay, and the municipality all have copies. For the past 48 hours, I was in my lawyer’s office, not in the province.
And now…”
She slowly opened the lid of the bucket. The stench of bagoong filled the air, making everyone shudder. “This is my gift to you—bagoong that I fermented for two years.
Do you know why I brought it? Because greedy and shameless people smell like this: a smell that sticks and no soap can remove.”
Then Lolo Ben appeared, his cane in hand and his voice firm:
“We don’t need your money or your house. But don’t think you can fool your own parents.
The story doesn’t end here –
it continues on the next page.
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