A Crime Every Woman Commits III
I am excited by the seriousness of the screams garnered, packaged in my last piece, demanding that I should tell the world the only crime every woman commits in my immediate next piece or remain silent about it forever.
While I apologise for making three indifferent publications after that alongside pretending not to feel you are almost tired of visualising beauties conceiving, nurturing, giving birth to the same inelegant, unknown crime, laughter fills my mouth with lips I dare not pout against the reactions because my respect for them is unflinching; they have an obvious aim to provoke me to open the door of my heart, let go of the fear of possible, heavy damages to me and the womenfolk, let in the wildness of a lioness, devour my fears as preys and sing the libelous song mellifluously, with pride.
Take it from me that every human is obliged to obey provisions enshrined in a natural constitution boldly written on the pages of the book of reality displayed on the shelf of life. My conscience tells me, pressurises me to take note of so many of the facts it contains.
Firstly, the beginning of a woman's downfall is her obsessive desire to use her hands to use her hoe to dig the grave of her fellow women. You can bet your life on the naked truth that a guilty one might end up slipping disastrously and falling into the same ditch.
Secondly, it cries very loud and clear that it is a voluntary, wilful misfortune for a woman to set the reputation of past, present and future generations of women alight; hers will not be spared, too.
Thirdly, it says that a woman whose stock-in-trade is to mock womanhood has a memory like a sieve, through whose net her liquid ability to recall she is one of them has successfully escaped.
Moreover, if a woman refuses to love her fellow women as herself, she has flouted the divine rule which recommends love for all the measure of one's love for oneself, and the penalty will be severe (I am imagining, dreading the magnitude of the pe-nal-ty).
Nevertheless, I mean, despite the monstrosity, acuteness of the provisions, I have brought your demand a fair response: I have agreed to reveal the crime. I am sincere about doing this today to put an end to the whole story.
But before I say it, I must address questions I am pondering on concerning this risk I am about to take and for which I crave answers, briefly.
First and foremost, where can I start from?
Dear readers, I am not lost for words; my problem is locating an appropriate starting point. Where will I sit, stand or crouch down to cull, integrate and assign words the responsibility to indict the entire female folk, to label them as criminals as though I am not one of them?
Besides, where will I keep my eyes thereafter? Unclad in their sockets, bound to blink, roll, roam and look as much as possible far away from the gazes of billions of shocked, angry women all over the world?
Think with me. Where will I place my feet when I am done with causing an earthquake on the ground I ought to stand? Mockers will have a field day making fun of my trembling, sinking poor legs(no doubt, the hole underneath the earth, beneath my feet will be bottomless) for as long as the sun rises and sets.
Think about this, too. In what direction will my accusing finger point? Northwards, Southwards, Eastwards or Westwards? Moreover, where will I hide my face within and outside my blog? Where within and outside the boundaries of the four corners of the earth? Where?
Give me convincing responses and I will be more than glad to concur and ask you my second question.
Meanwhile, I have told you I am ready to reveal the crime. Yes! I am a writer of my words. The crime is one, just one, a serious offence for that matter. It can be said to be a complex atrocity capable of creating simple consequences or described as a simple atrocity vested with unstoppable powers to create complex consequences. Let me remind you that I said in my very first edition that there was a river in which only women could swim best, a river bank where it seemed only women were well skilled to manage well and an only path to the river where only women could locate and trace masterly. I added that the river, the riverbank and the sole path were descriptions of one and same victim of women's only crime. This crime I am about to talk about is...
Wait! Ah! I perceive bangs, blasts! I feel some scary, strident noise! So soon? I have just started a mere introduction and hearts are beating faster than normal already; I sense mounting tension; the health of every affected mind is at risk, hence I have decided to halt at this point, today.
I implore those immune to the discomfort not to murmur; Let me stop for the sake of the wholeness of the vulnerable, please.
I care; I write to entertain and edify, not to endanger the mental wellness, hang the peace or raise the blood pressure of readers; I will continue from here in a succeeding part; I promise to tell you the crime.
How did you march into the month of March? I did mine constructively. Hope you did, too.
* * * * * * * *
It is Easter season again! It is about a "crime" Jesus Christ "committed" as documented in the Bible's New Testament. He was "too full of himself", his ineffable powers to save, heal and make the human soul live eternally that He "paraded" himself everywhere as the Messiah, Saviour of the world. Chief priests, elders, all council members observed all, were intimidated by His rising personality and growing popularity. Consequently, they sought after his death. They wanted Him roasted alive if possible, for "boasting" of His ability to destroy the temple of God that took their ancestors donkey's years to build and rebuild it in three days. They got the support of one of His disciples, Judas Iscariot, who betrayed Him, gave Him out for an amount of money he did not live to spend. The haters were taken with their obsession that they preferred a notorious thief, Barabas be granted the Pilate's pardon Jesus deserved. They advocated His condemnation and rejoiced at the verdict that He be hanged on the cross.
A dream come tree, it was, for the malicious beings as they witnessed His execution and watched Him writhe, bleed to death. They mocked, humiliated Him even in death, but were shocked when the rumour that He had resurrected three days after His burial was spread. Its confirmation was outrageous. Jesus overcame temptations, trials, humiliations, torture, death and set the world free from the woeful grip of sin.
God is perfect, His plans and manner of realisations are perfect, too. Jesus lives. He is everyone's Messiah. You and I can sleep with our two eyes closed because Jesus Christ has been established as the way, truth and life through which our salvation, even eternally, is guaranteed.
Besides, with God, all things are possible. God has blessed us with His son, Jesus so that every good thing, including everlasting life, will be possible. I am glad I am a child of God, a believer in Christ; what about you? This is another opportunity that has come your way to know Jesus. Love Him now; time is running out.
I appreciate you always. I will meet you again soonest by God's grace. God bless us all with the favours, significance of the Easter celebrations! Cheers and cheers!
Copyright BUKOLAPEDIA.
Writer: Bukola Olafenwa.
College: Obafemi Awolowo University, Ile-ife, Nigeria.
Email: bukolaolafenwa@gmail.com.
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