Written By Elizabeth Obembe
Ever heard the saying ‘those who live in glass houses should not throw stones’. That was the topic given to us that faithful afternoon, I had heard that saying times without number but really I had no idea on the meaning let alone what to pencil down. But I left class knowing I had to turn up something the next day. Three days after my teacher called someone out and here’s what the person read out:
“I was about to be given public humiliation, my deeds were finally brought to the spotlight, shame was clearly written across my face, as my head was bowed. I was awaiting verdict. I dare not look up at the angry mob. I was on my knees with my wrapper loosely tied across my chest, I didn’t even try to readjust it. The sight of my breast wouldn’t cause any surprising and sensational excitement amongst the young men and even the married ones! Not because they had wives, but because mine held nothing special a lot of them if not all, for I was a prostitute!
I had to just leave my house, one way or the other, my step mother didn’t treat me right. I was the only child of my motherbefore she died, and my father had to remarry. My step mother had two sons three years into marriage. Things went smoothly until the bang! I lost my dad. Things changed a lot around the house. I lost all my privileges, even my basic rights were abused. The day after I was given the beating of my life, I finally moved out. I just had to.
How stupid was I not to have listened to the resounding words of my father somewhere way back in my head ‘Don’t let your life be the experience that they say is the good teacher, learn from other peoples mistakes’. I felt there was no other means of survival than this ‘Prostitution!’ It wasn’t so hard to get my customers as my beauty did a lot of talking for my lips. I was 16 not naive but inexperienced. The beginning was torment but later it became ‘a part of life’. I made all my money from there. I already had an inn where I entertained my guests, sometimes I even had to render home services to those who requested. It did continue for a long time and I was hardly ever caught by the husband owners, on the few occasions I was able to bail myself out by disappearing for a while.
That was 8 years ago, last night was different though, while I was on with my business, in the comfort of one of my suits in the inn. An angry mob broke in and dragged me out some of which I recognize as men with whom I’ve had business with, some not once or twice. The game was over and I knew this was my end. I was jolted back to reality from my short journey down memory lane as my verdict was pronounced. ‘She is to be stoned to death!’ I wailed louder but still didn’t look up. Stones were already being picked and the people ready to express their anger with the stones in their hands awaiting orders to commence. When the most adorable pair of legs walked through the crowd and stepped towards me, picked a stone, bent down and scribbled some words on the floor.
As I scanned around the mob began to reduce until there was no one left. As I lifted my eyes I saw the smile on the face of the saving stranger as walked away, Icrawled towards the writing on the floor and here’s what it read: “HIM WHO IS WITHOUT SIN SHOULD BE THE FIRST TO CAST A STONE, AS THOSE WHO LIVE IN GLASS HOUSES SHOULD NOT THROW STONES”.
The class gave an uproar and a deafening round of applause. Indeed there was the largest smile on my face, that was my essay, I was handed my script with an A+ written on it.
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