When my father died, I thought the hardest part was burying him. But the real fight began later in the courtroom. My stepmother stood against me, insisting that the land my father had set aside for me was hers. With the will and documents in hand, I trusted the law would protect me.
The first hearing gave me hope, but then came the excuses: missing files, sick judges, sudden adjournments. One by one, the years passed with nothing moving forward. Each visit ended with the same phrase: “Come back after three months.”
To keep paying my lawyer, I sold my car. My plans for a small business stalled because the land was locked in dispute. The process was draining my strength and my finances. Continue reading…
