He rented a mountain to raise 30 pigs and abandoned it for 5 years. One day he returned and was paralyzed by what he saw…
In 2018, Rogelio “Roger” Santos, a 34-year-old man from Nueva Écija, dreamed of escaping poverty by raising pigs. He rented a vacant lot on a mountain in the town of Carranglan to turn it into a small pigpen.
He spent all his savings, even taking out a loan from the Philippine Land Bank, built pigsties, installed a deep well, and bought 30 piglets.
The day he took the first litter of pigs up the mountain, he proudly told his wife Marites, 31:
“Wait for me. In a year, we’ll be able to build our own house.”
But life wasn’t as easy as the television success stories about getting rich.
In less than three months, African swine fever spread across Luzon. One by one, nearby pig farms collapsed. Some residents were forced to burn their entire pigsties down just to stop the virus from spreading. For weeks, thick smoke hung over the mountains.
Marites was frightened.
“Let’s sell them while they’re still alive,” he pleaded.
But Roger was stubborn.
“This too shall pass. We just have to hold on a little longer.” The constant worry and sleepless nights weakened him. He was even hospitalized in Cabanatuan due to extreme exhaustion and stress. He spent more than a month resting in his in-laws’ province.
When he returned to the mountain, half his pigs had already withered away. The price of feed had doubled. The bank had started calling to collect on the loan.
Each night, as the rain pounded on the tin roof of the pigsties, Roger felt as if everything he had worked for was slowly collapsing.
Until one night, after another call from a creditor, he sat on the floor and whispered:
“I’m finished.”
The next morning, he locked up the pigsty. He handed the key to the landowner, Mang Tino, and went down the mountain. He couldn’t bear to see everything he had built completely collapse. In his mind, it was all a loss.
For five years, he never returned to the mountain.
He and Marites moved to Quezon City and worked as laborers in a factory. Life was simple: there was no opulence, but there was peace.
Whenever someone talked about pig farming, Roger would smile bitterly.
“I just threw my money into the mountains.”
But earlier this year, Mang Tino called him out of the blue. His voice was trembling.
“Roger… come up here. Your old piece of junk… something serious has happened.”
The next day, Roger hiked more than 40 kilometers up the mountain. The old dirt road was now overgrown with grass and trees, as if it had been abandoned for a decade.
As I climbed, I felt a deep anxiety and fear.
Was the garbage already destroyed?
Or was there no trace left of his old dream?
As he rounded the last bend in the mountain, he stopped suddenly.
The place I had left behind… seemed to be teeming with life.
It was no longer the old pigsty he had left behind. The rusty tin roof was covered in vines and thick vegetation. The muddy pens had blended into the forest. The trees in the area had grown, and the old path was almost unrecognizable.
But that wasn’t what made him stop.
He heard noises.
“Ngrok… ngrok…”
Roger froze.
Slowly, he approached the fence, which was almost buried under the tall grass. When he glanced inside the old corral, he recoiled in surprise.
There were pigs.
Not just one or two, but many.
Large, with robust bodies. And several small piglets running around.
The thirty piglets he had left behind five years earlier seemed to have grown into a whole herd.
“No… that’s impossible…”, he whispered.
Mang Tino, who was walking behind him, approached.
“That’s what I was telling you,” he said quietly. “They didn’t disappear.”
“But… how did they survive?” Roger asked, still unable to believe what he was seeing.
Mang Tino sat on a nearby rock.
“When you left, some pigs were still inside the pen. They broke through the fence and escaped. I thought they would die in the forest. But they didn’t.”
Roger looked around.
Behind the pigsty was a small stream I’d never seen before. Bananas and sweet potatoes had grown in the area. There were coconuts and various wild plants.
“They learned to survive in the mountains,” Mang Tino said. “And they continued to multiply.”
Roger watched the herd. Some pigs raised their heads, almost as if they recognized his presence even after so many years.
A large pig approached the fence. It had reddish skin and a scar on its ear: the same mark as one of the first piglets he had bought a long time ago.
“That one…” Roger whispered.
“That was the first pig I raised.”
A tightness in his chest affected him.
Everything I thought I had lost… was still there.
Not only alive, but an adult.
“And what will you do now?” Mang Tino asked.
Roger remained silent.
He looked at the mountain. The pigsty. The pigs walking calmly through the grass, as if the five years that had passed meant nothing.
Slowly, Roger smiled, for the first time in many years.
“Perhaps,” she said softly, “my dream is not over yet.”
And at that moment, he understood something he once thought he had lost.
Sometimes, even if you abandon a dream… there are moments when it still awaits your return.
Roger stood leaning against the old rusty fence for a long time.
The sound of pigs rooting in the damp earth filled the mountain air. It was a simple sound… but to him it meant something enormous.
Life.
Five years earlier he had come down from that mountain convinced that all was lost. He had left behind his investment, his effort, his pride.
And yet… everything was there.
More alive than ever.
“I can’t believe it…” he murmured.
Mang Tino watched him with a small smile.
—I told you to go up and see it with your own eyes.
Roger slowly entered the old corral. The fence was broken in several places and part of the structure had been overgrown with vegetation.
But the animals seemed healthy.
Some were enormous. Much larger than normal domestic pigs.
“They became almost wild,” Mang Tino explained. “They learned to find food on their own.”
Roger looked around.
The small stream that ran behind the property had created a small, fertile valley. Wild fruit trees had grown unchecked.
Bananas.
Potatoes.
Roots.
Even young coconuts.
It was as if nature had built a farm all by itself.
A small piglet ran between her legs.
Roger bent down and watched him.
“Five years…” she whispered.
Mang Tino sat down on the rock again.
—During all this time, nobody came up here. Only hunters occasionally. But the pigs hid well.
Roger looked up.
—Did no one try to catch them?
“Some tried,” the old man replied. “But the mountain is big. And those animals grew clever.”
Roger walked slowly across the grounds.
Each step awakened memories.
Here he had built the first corral.
He had installed the well there.
Beyond that was the small storeroom where he kept the food.
Now everything was covered by nature.
But the heart of his dream… kept beating.
“How many do you think there are?” Roger asked.
Mang Tino shrugged.
—Fifty… maybe sixty.
Roger opened his eyes.
-Sixty?
—Maybe more. More piglets were born every year.
Roger was left thinking.
In the city, the price of pork had risen sharply in recent years, especially after the swine fever outbreak.
Even a small farm could generate good money.
He looked at the animals again.
That wasn’t just a herd.
It was a second chance .
—Mang Tino —he finally said.
-Yeah?
—Is the land still available?
The old man let out a small laugh.
—It was always yours as long as you paid the rent.
Roger smiled.
—Then… I want to go back.
Mang Tino looked at him curiously.
-Return?
Roger nodded.
—This time I will not give up.
They remained silent for a moment, watching the pigs walk freely up the mountain.
The sun was beginning to set behind the hills, painting the sky orange.
Roger took out his phone.
He dialed a number.
After a few seconds, Marites answered.
—Roger? Have you reached the mountain yet?
Roger took a deep breath.
-Yeah.
—And what happened?
There was a brief silence.
—You’re not going to believe it.
—What’s happening?
Roger looked at the herd again.
The animals ran, played, and searched for food among the trees.
—Our pigs… are still alive.
There was silence on the other end of the phone.
-That?
—Not just the living.
Roger smiled.
—They multiplied.
Marites took several seconds to respond.
—Roger… are you serious?
-Completely.
—How many are there?
Roger looked at the terrain.
—Maybe sixty… maybe more.
A long sigh was heard from the other side.
-My God…
Roger sat down on the ground.
—I think we need to start over.
—Return to the mountains?
-Yeah.
There was a moment of silence.
Then Marites said something that surprised him.
—I never stopped believing that that place was special.
Roger smiled.
—Me neither… it only took me five years to realize it.
The wind blew gently through the trees.
Mang Tino slowly got up.
—Roger.
-Yeah?
—There’s something else you should know.
Roger looked up.
-What thing?
The old man pointed towards the woods behind the pigsty.
—A few months ago, some men came to see this mountain.
-Men?
—Yes. They said a big company wanted to buy land around here.
Roger frowned.
-So that?
Mang Tino sighed.
—They say they want to build a large, modern farm… one of the largest in the region.
Roger looked at his land.
He looked at the pigs.
And then into the forest.
—Do you know the name of the company?
Mang Tino nodded slowly.
-Yeah.
Roger waited.
The old man said the name in a low voice.
And at that moment…
Roger understood something surprising.
Because that company was the same one that had rejected their financing project five years earlier .
The same one who had said that her dream was “too small to succeed”
.
Roger remained silent.
Then he smiled slowly.
—Well… —he said.
-That?
Roger looked at the mountain, the pigs, the stream, the land that had survived without him.
—It seems I arrived here before them .
