TRUTH |LOVE |REVENGE |PARDON |STORYTELLING
Many People Want the Truth but Some Might Use it Against You
The truth should be respected for what it is.
Carried away by the zeal of his new-found faith, an ex-armed robber decided to do right by going to meet with the father of one of his worst victims. On getting to the man’s house, he opened up to a dark reality of his past.
“I am sorry for what I did in the past. As a repentant fellow, I was the man who shot and killed your son while we were on an operation in this area.”
The man listened attentively: motionless and emotionless and asked him to repeat.
He did exactly that with the innocence of a freed soul.
The host excused himself for a moment and returned in a short while. But this time: armed with his long gun, without showing any feeling of any kind.
“The same Bible also told you that ‘He that live by the sword shall die by the sword’”. Unexpectedly, he pointed his gun at the young man’s head and wasted it in split seconds.
A certain man had consistently confessed of how much he loved a certain young lady. He expressed his intentions to marry her, as a result.
The young lady was also committed to the blissful prospect but had some dark zones beyond the apparent appearance of situations.
He demanded to know some truths about her as two persons who would be sharing the rest of their lives together.
“I once had an abortion that was poorly handled when I was growing up. Consequently, the quack doctor who handled it messed up my life by damaging a part of my womb. As a result, I have been warned that I might not be able to carry my own babies.”
The young lady was heartbroken as he knew the weight of such confession. She sobbed and sobbed and expected some consolation or encouragement from her prospective Romeo.
If her opening up was shocking, his reaction was more. He stopped seeing her. He stopped all forms of communication with her.
He went further to spread the personal tale of a poor soul within the little community. The lady cried and cried and wept bitterly on hearing it.
She contemplated suicide but could not descend to carry it out based on her earlier virtuous foundation of life.
Few years later, another certain successful middle-age man from a distant neighborhood had returned from Europe to look for a wife in his native African clime.
Driving one semi-sunny afternoon, he saw the fair-skinned young lady that was teaching a group of children under a big tree in a not-too-distant village. He stopped, parked his vehicle near a moderately bushy ambience.
He went closer and closer stared and stared and stared, as if he had just seen a familiar ghost…
That made her somewhat uncomfortable, especially by virtue of what she had passed through. She did not give him any special face.
He smiled mildly and beckoned on her to continue, “I am enjoying what you are doing, please go ahead.”
He smiled again intermittently. She became slightly more nervous but managed to retain her composure. He did not look unfriendly, all the same.
She had to stop what she was doing by excusing the children. She walked beside him — no feelings — no anticipations.
He looked quizzingly into her eyes, “What could a beautifully gorgeous lady like you be doing in this place?”
“It is a long story”, she responded in a half-exciting, half-depressing tone and mood.
“I wouldn’t mind staying here — hearing all the loooonnnnggggg story, if you wouldn’t mind ...”
“There would be no need anyways.”
Few minutes later, he reluctantly left.
She returned to complete the business of the day. But the following day, he returned and found her even much more beautiful, doing her thing with the kids.
This time around, he came with some goodies for the kids. They were happy to receive them as most of them were from extremely poor homes and could neither afford formal education nor any highlighted basic luxury of life.
Days led to weeks and before you could say: “What’s going on?”, marriage proposal was made with acceptance concluded and both families fixed a date for the traditional formalization of rites.
For the groom, he was happy he had found someone who would tell him the truth. If the later developments did not go according to expectations, at least he had known where the challenge was coming from.
For her, she could not believe that someone would love her the way she was, and not based on presumptions. Both of them were mutually delighted at the beautiful turn out of events.
The man had to return to Sweden where he was based but this time, alongside his bride. When further medical and gynaecological investigations were made, it was discovered that the ‘reported’ damage to her womb was grossly exaggerated.
The ill-equipped experts in Africa were equally ill-informed as to her (in)ability to have children. Positively, she was over 90% declared fit to carry her babies and be delivered of them.
Precisely, a year later: she gave birth to a bouncing baby boy in a hospital in the Swedish capital. The joy was boundless.
It was an unspeakable brand of joy: the joy of unashamedly saying the truth and the happiness of accepting the truth without using it as a weapon of destruction.
Thanks for reading.
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