I’ve always wanted to write about this, but hesitation kept getting the best of me. Today, I’m taking the plunge. Coincidentally, my husband and I just came from paying the land property tax, so there’s no better timing. As I write this on our bus ride home, I can’t help but reflect.
I hate taxes—especially in a country where they seem to only improve the lives of a select few. It’s frustrating as someone who works hard to see so little return.
To give you some context, our property is in a rural barangay with just 400 residents. Tourism is nonexistent, and most of the income comes from farming, handled by folks two generations older than us. We only took on the lot because it was my dad’s childhood home—an ancestral lot that hadn’t been paid for in years and was at risk of being taken by the government.
My dad wanted to retire there, so my husband and I stepped in. We transferred the title to our name and handled the taxes, even taking out a loan for the transfer of title.
But things took a dark turn when my dad decided to stay there to oversee the lot. He almost died when his appendix ruptured. Instead of taking him to a hospital, the locals brought him to an "albularyo" (a traditional healer). By the time we found out, it was almost too late. My brother had to rush there to bring him back to the city to get him to the hospital.
It was terrifying. He spent five days in the ICU and underwent two surgeries. Thankfully, he recovered, but it was a rollercoaster of emotions. In true Tatay fashion, he cracked a joke in the ICU, asking, “If cockfighting is bad, why does Peter have a rooster in his hand?” At the time, I was worried he wasn’t making sense, but once he got better, we laughed about it.
Now, two surgeries and 10kgs later, my dad is on the mend. Hopefully, his health continues to improve.
But as I sit here reflecting, I can’t help but think about that lot. The tax, though small, feels like too much considering the stress, the travel, and the trouble it has caused. In the end, it feels like all this trouble and expense for that lot just isn’t worth it. It’s a bittersweet reminder of the sacrifices we make for family and the frustrations of living in a system that often fails us.
Here’s hoping for a healthier dad, and maybe, just maybe, a fairer tax system someday.