Ayo Al: Cast the First Stone! Yes, You Perfect One

“If you know what happened to me last week, you will cry for me.”  Chisom, my friend whom I rarely saw anymore said to me.

It was my turn to visit her as she had kept complaining that I didn’t visit enough. Since it had been long we had seen each other, we tried to quickly catch up on gist, regaling ourselves with tales from our different places of work and business.
Of course, I was curious. Chisom wasn’t the exaggerating kind of person, so I knew her experience had to be really serious.

“Tell me, biko” I said moving closer to her.

“My sister,  that was how I was coming from work one Tuesday like that o.  I heard someone crying and I wanted to see if I could render any help. It was around Ogba” She explained.

“What happened?  Did you get robbed?” I responded, my mind already creating images of big guns and sharp pointed lethal knifes.

“If I hear.  When I moved close to where I thought the sounds were coming from , I saw that it was a woman and a little girl that were crying o.  I asked them what happened and if I could help. I mean, they just sat by the side of the road, wailing and every other person seemed oblivious to them.”

“Ehn Ehn?”

“But this woman refused to answer me; she just had this strange look on her face,  like I was disturbing her tears. She turned her face away from me and increased the volume of her wails. I persisted even though I was tired. It was a big deal for me,  to see an adult doing that publicly . I sincerely wanted to help.”

“I got tired after a while, straightened up and prepared to walk away,  after all,  I had tried my best to help her.”

“I had not taken the second step, when this woman hissed loudly and said ‘yeye sinner! Ashewo,  you think say I go let person wey wear trouser help me and my pikin?  You better go find Jesus! Immediately, as if she had not uttered a word, she continued crying.”

“My sister, as I walked away in shock, I kept asking myself how the woman knew I didn’t have Jesus. To tell the truth,  I cried to bed that night o. It hurt so bad that I had been insulted all because I wanted to help. What pains me the most is that I know Jesus ”

My mouth was open for several seconds after she finished talking  .

“Are you for real?” I asked her when I could gather my thoughts and she nodded in the affirmative.

I was shocked. I couldn’t believe that kind of thing could happen in this age. To look at a person and just conclude that she is a sinner because she wore something contrary to your belief?  I’m sorry,  but didn’t the Bible say something about not being a judge over anyone?

Also, I’m sure lots of people wearing skirts passed by that woman that night, and not all of them stopped to help her, assuming any did.  So the one that offered help, became the bad one.

Sincerely, it really has to stop.  No one is perfect and you cannot expect everyone to be like you or to like the things you do. Give everyone you come across some level of respect irrespective of how the person looks, talks or acts. You might never know what that nice attitude of yours could do to help.

Trust me when I say, if all our lives were weighed and checked, I can say confidently that no one would come through as ‘perfect’

Remove the dirt in your eyes first before offering to help your neighbours with theirs.  Do not turn to God on earth!

“It is well, but you didn’t have to cry. She wasn’t worth your tears, my dear.” I told Chisom. It was obvious she still hadn’t gotten over the experience.

“It is well!” I said again as I left her place for mine.

Photo Credit: Teodor Lazarev | Dreamstime.com