06 Sep 2004 |
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| The ringing air of confidence I knew; the almost measured steps and near cat walking equally seemed familiar; the silhouette too. But I still did not recognise her. As she approached further, a familiar voice greeted, then I stood speechless, gaping at this fine and attractive specimen of humankind that I could hardly place, even as she stood a couple of yards away from me. ‘Good gracious,’ I heard myself gasp, as recognition dawned on me. She must have laughed at my naivety. Let me put it on record, the sole cause of my confusion was her mode of dressing. And I must put it on record that my neighbour is a Christian and a liberal one at that (I believe you understand what I mean…). But standing in front of me now, she looked like a little Muslim maiden, keen on her religion and zealous in her faith. She was covered almost from crown to toe, with only her face showing. This wasn’t my neighbour, or something serious must have happened. Generously adorned with traffic stopping figure and curves at the right places, she knew how to make herself noticed whenever she felt just that way. With a mind that could switch from the moral to the amoral at the slightest provocation, she flirted and courted whom she wanted, and most times, succeeded. And here she was, dressed up like a saint! Was this a millennium gag, and for how long had this been going on, I asked visibly surprised. Then she told me, an expose into a life not with the goal of winning virtue, rather on the threshold of hypocrisy: Ever since those hypocritical self-righteous wise men introduced the Islamic legal code, otherwise known as sharia, she had decided to play their card their way. The truth is that she was afraid of being branded what she is, the decision to change her appearance, at least for the now, and cover those features that make prurient men sin. But she will throw them off as soon as it was dark. Why…? She had to live of course. And was she not afraid of being flogged or losing an arm? No, because they all knew one another as soon as the sun retrieved its daylight brightness. Those pleasures, no matter how fleeting, can not just be wished away; and what with the effect of bottled up sexual emotions; those men are really little animals who will go to lengths just to stretch any little girl And does she cherish such dual existence? Cherish is not the word, for when it comes to survival, there is no cherishing. Children do not like drugs, but it does them a whole lot of good. Okay, what about the inconveniences of being garbed thus? Ah that. It can be living hell. She could hitherto do anything or go anywhere in the simplicity of her sleeve top and tight jean trousers. But not any more. Imagine the horror experienced in those times of unbearable heat, with heap upon heap of cloth piled on the body. So was she worried that one of the reason for the implementation of the sharia legal code, to curb excessive delinquencies and put a stop to prostitution, is what she flouts almost with impunity? Well, she will not agree. Which is hers? ‘I tell you they are all hypocrites, ‘ she states with vehemence. ‘I have flouted no law; they are the ones flouting their own laws. After all it takes two to tango…’ And before I could stop her, she begins a tirade on…’Men are funny and wonderful. Sometimes I think they are foolish too. They often heave their weaknesses and blames on such as they imagine are without speech. Was it not same as happened in the days of our Lord Jesus Christ when the poor hapless woman, dubiously referred to as the prostitute by a macho world was dragged naked to the master, and accused of being apprehended in the act of love making? Then I ask myself, was she making love to herself? If yes, why not let her be since she was only indulging her body? If no, why grant the man the privilege of shamelessly dressing up and cowardly running away, only to seize the woman and drag her outside in the beauty of her nakedness? Maybe the man was even among the mob that came to stone her. Thank god for the celestial wisdom and foresight of Christ…’ ‘You are correct neighbour,’ I heard myself saying, not without a pang of quilt. Then she moved to her door, and into the comfort of her house. Then I remembered what she had once told me: that she will never live to be the reproach of age. And I understood her. Nigeria has raised standards she apparently can not maintain. My neighbour tries to be sharia compliant, at least outwardly. But the truth is that she is sharia complaining. Her dual existence can only be deceitful to an infant mind. And talking about minds, sharia can only become successful if it passes from a state of apparent dispositions to a genuine demonstration of the ultimate and sincere cravings of the mind and a reflection of God Himself and His Wholesomeness; for God can not be mocked. As it is said in Arabic, it is enough if Allah is merciful… iykaenawa@yahoo.co.uk June 2002. |
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