Attorney Sides With One Sibling, Leaving The Rest Of The Family Struggling For Fair Share Of Inherited Land

My grandmother died when my father was just a child. He was the youngest of all his siblings, and life was never easy for him. My grandmother had been married twice, widowed twice, and had another partner after my grandfather passed away. My grandfather, her second husband, worked hard to build a house—a home that should’ve been a refuge for all her children, a shared place where everyone could return. But now, that dream feels stolen.

When my grandmother passed away without leaving a last will and testament, the land she left behind should have been divided equally among all her children. Instead, the second eldest sibling from her first family, my Aunt A, took control of everything. She claimed the house my grandfather built as her own and turned it into her personal home. What was meant to be a shared sanctuary for all of my grandmother’s children has become a place of exclusion, ruled by Aunt A.

Even the eldest sibling, my Aunt Z, and other siblings from the first family believe the land should be divided fairly. Everyone agrees that the rightful heirs—my grandmother’s children—deserve their share. But Aunt A refuses, clinging to her unjust control. My Aunt B, my father’s full-blooded sister, recently returned from Manila, hoping to stay for good. But when she asked for her rightful share of the land, Aunt A blocked her, saying, “She doesn’t have materials to build a house yet.” What kind of reasoning is that? Aunt B doesn’t need to build a house right away—she just wants her share of the land, a place to call her own.

Meanwhile, Aunt A’s children, my grandmother’s grandchildren, already have houses built on the land. This land was never meant for grandchildren to claim before my grandmother’s own children had their share. My father fought hard and managed to secure a portion of the land, but Aunt B and many of the other siblings have been left with nothing.

To make matters worse, Aunt A has sold portions of the land and rented out other parts, profiting off what should belong to everyone. Yet, when it’s time to pay taxes, she demands that all the siblings help cover the cost, as if that’s the only time their voices should matter.

And then there’s the house—our grandfather’s house. Aunt A renovated it, but only because she’s the one living there. If any of the other siblings had been allowed to stay, they would’ve renovated it too. Renovating a house doesn’t make it yours. But somehow, the attorney sided with her, saying she should keep the house because of those renovations.

The most frustrating part is that the attorney seems to think we’re all ganging up on Aunt A because it’s one versus many. But that’s not the truth. We’re not trying to ambush her or take away what’s hers—we just want what’s fair. Now, it looks like we’re the bad ones simply because we’re united in wanting justice. The attorney’s decision to side with Aunt A has painted her as the victim and the rest of us as aggressors.

My Aunt B has nowhere to go because the house she and my father grew up in has been taken over by Aunt A. She doesn’t even want the house—she just wants her rightful share of the land. But Aunt A won’t allow it, prioritizing her piggery and personal gain over the rights of her siblings.

We just want what’s fair—a proper division of the land and a chance to reclaim the house my grandfather built for his children. But the longer this goes on, the more it feels like justice is slipping away. Why is fairness so hard to achieve? Why does standing up for what’s right make us look like the bad ones?