The land was quiet, covered with tall grasses and scattered trees, far from the busy center of the city, but perfect for building a small farmhouse.
With a mixture of cautious emotion, Roger visited the zoo next to the landowner, Mag Tio, a friendly and affable farmer who had lived next to the mountain for decades.
Mag Tipo explained that nobody had used that part of the mountain for years because transporting supplies along the dirt road was difficult.
But Roger didn’t see twenty-seven. Instead, he saw space, fresh air, and a place where pigs could be raised without the overcrowding of urban farms.
After a week of reflection and conversations with his wife Marites, Roger signed a modest rental agreement for a part of the hillside.
That night he returned home with tired eyes but his heart full of hope, already imagining rows of pigpens and a promising future.
Marites watched him as he sketched plans on old paper, moving the pencil rapidly as he calculated feed costs, growth cycles, and anticipated market prices.
Roger withdrew the small savings he had carefully accumulated over the years working odd jobs and construction contracts throughout the province.
