Cocoa Tree With Fruit

If I hadn't turned out to be doing what I am now doing for a living, I would have probably been involved in something that has to do with agriculture. Seriously. If I remember correctly, I even listed Forestry as a second or third choice for a course to take back when I was applying for college.

We raised quite a handful of animals in our yard back in my childhood—well, chickens and pigeons, aside from the cats that we've always had since I can remember.

What we had a lot of were trees. We had two guava trees, two mango trees, a coconut tree, sampaloc (tamarind), guyabano (soursop), papaya, cainito, chesa (canistel), alatires (I don't know what it's called in your language), and quite some others. Then there are the small vegetable and flower gardens we kept on some of the small plots of earth that we can spare.

This was years ago, when there were still open expanses of unpaved earth in our backyard. Way before the general area where we live was known to be the urban, commercial center that people now call it.

Anyway, what this is about is that, for all the plants and trees that used to grow in our yard, now, after these many years, there remains only one tree standing. It is this cocoa tree I personally planted in 1991. Its seed itself was given to me from the province—Cebu, unless I'm much mistaken—by one of our tennants.



As years passed, financial needs—among other reasons—drove us to have the trees cut down and plants cleared off to make way for various structures. Around 2006 there stood only three, and when typhoon Milenyo (international name: Xangsane) struck, and the remaining mango tree was nearly uprooted, with a branch falling on our roof, my mother decided to have the whole tree cut down.

Well, that was the agreement. I was opposed to any tree-killing around here in the first place, but with the typhoon damage, we had no choice. I had a feeling then that Mom wanted to do away with all the trees altogether—because then there would be no fallen leaves to have to sweep off the ground, no fallen leaves to clog the roof gutters.

But I said no. In particular I didn't want her to touch my cocoa tree. I had an attachment to it, having planted it myself, unlike all the trees that we used to have which were already growing when we got here. I might have even issued a threat or another at that time, but I don't remember now.

Anyway, as it turned out, after we children conceded to have the mango tree chopped down, Mom had the star apple tree cut down as well—which was sneaky of her, as we'd only agreed on the mango tree.

I was furious for a time, but there was really nothing more I could do about it. And anyway, she didn't touch my cocoa tree, and so it is even now the only tree in our yard—just because it's my tree.



And it's now bearing fruit... the second time, actually.

I count it as a good thing, because according to who gave it to me, it would mature and bear fruit at two years old. In this case, it didn't (probably because I didn't plant it on good soil; it's mostly gravelly where it is).

It took 10 some years before a single fruit developed, and even on that first time the fruit disappeared right before it ripened. We don't know what happened to it. Could have been stolen, or eaten/taken by birds perhaps.

This time, though, there are two fruits. I was able to take a picture of the more easily to spot of them, and post it here.