The Two Sons Who Took Everything and Gave Nothing

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Adrian was the second eldest, and from an early age, everything was handed to him—thanks to our mother’s relentless sacrifice. A tertiary-qualified woman, she gave up her own ambitions and devoted her youth to raising and educating six children, even sending Adrian to a private secondary school. Despite this, he never once expressed gratitude.

Before everything fell apart there was this...

All six kids - dressed up, clothes hand made by Mother, smiling for camera. A frozen moment of innocence, long before betrayal, erasure and sacrifice defined Mother's legacy.

Worse still, the very legal system that once urged her to flee the violence has become one of the worst violators of her dignity and rights.Members of the New Zealand Law Society—who once told her to escape—are now part of the same legal network that mocked her in court as a disabled, deceased Testatrix. They falsified narratives, enabled judges, barristers, and our own sisters to commit perjury, and have done everything possible to cover up the corruption.

They violently drained her estate, ignored her valid Will, and erased our combined 47 years of sacrifice like it was trash. Not one solicitor defended her wishes or stood for truth. Instead, they grabbed hundreds of thousands from falsified invoices. This was not mere negligence. It was deliberate betrayal—by both blood and system.

Ironically, we later saw a photo of Adrian seated proudly with a 1kg luxury steak, surrounded by well-fed children and the trappings of comfort—as if he were the model parent. The truth? He drank excessively, his spouse was a heavy smoker, and he died young, at just 40. He never once offered a kind word to the mother who built his foundation. She lived for decades without even basic nutrition—sometimes not even vegetables, because local produce , from the local greedy Indians, was priced beyond our reach. ( They own blocks of buildings now, but have no compassion for humanity, yet we have all heard the stories of poverty in India/fiji, yet they leave and forget the need to be inclusive. Like too many New Zealand men of his generation, Adrian lived solely for his own gratification.

The spouse, kareen, was a heavy chimney smoker, boozer, precipitated his early death, reported she sat on him, stopped his heart. She too, was obnoxious: at 1 meeting of the fake wedding of younger sister, this female, claiming to have nursing skills, treated his mother like she was scum. What a c.... of a female, was typical of those hicktown christchurch types, no manners, holding onto her petty warped misguided beliefs, yet she too had taken what the Mother sacrificed. No gratitude, no sharing , only hostility and mostly typical of that type, silence as they whispered their insults, judgements, opinions and personal commentary. The oldest son, was not happy, the Mother knew, but you cannot teach those who are unteachable.

Strange that he and the spouse, wasted a day, trapsing around overseas to come to see me, on their honeymoon, in my employment, when none had ever written a word to me in decades, nor changed their habit. Interesting the hatred, spite, revenge they operate on, tyrants, as they took everything, then they want to see me, because they are so rich they can afford to live together and take luxury overseas holidays. Hypocrisy. None of them changed in multiple lifetimes, only about what's in it for them. They sure have no purpose, though have unrealistic expectations.

The youngest brother, Leon, followed a similar path. At six, he was bribed to return to the farm with a shiny new chopper bike. There, he too was handed everything—yet showed no concern that his mother was left with nothing. Years later, he forced himself into our modest Australian home, draining both my mother and me just as we had finally begun to build something of our own. The same, their mean spirit, yet the busty spouse, claiming to be a cook, had nothing to say. They too had unrealistic expectations.

We did not need another sponge. Nor did we need to celebrate his wedding to his oversized partner—especially considering this spoiled brat had already bought her a brand-new car while still in his teens. Meanwhile, our mother walked for hours just to get where she needed to go, because buses were unreliable and we couldn’t afford anything else. She stood nearly 20 hours a day—every day—for decades, with severe varicose veins, doctors had warned about in 1950's There was no doctor in 1970's 80's as unaffordable in nz. And I did the same: 18 years, 365 days a year, 16-hour shifts with no breaks. This was the start of the human trafficking, they and nz want to ignore.

Adding to the absurdity, Leon now parades around claiming to be Italian—despite not speaking a single word of the language. The father was New Zealand–born. Whatever Italian identity Leon clings to exists only in his head.

Ironically, it was real Italians—like Frank Costa, a respected fruit and vegetable magnate in Australia—who showed us more decency. Frank knew what was going on behind closed doors. Unlike our brothers, he offered help when it mattered.

Neither Adrian nor Leon ever gave back. Not a kind word. Not a basic kindness. Not a single moment of shared burden.They took everything—and gave nothing.And yet they dare to rewrite the story, pretending they came from struggle while sitting atop everything we were forced to build.