Abuja at that time of the year was neither hot nor cold. The weather was just perfect. We had arrived some three days ago and we were to leave the next morning. Schools had come from all parts of Nigeria for a National Christian Conference. The conference had kicked off beautifully but in as much as my friends and I wanted to have a great time in the program, we definitely didn’t want to leave the Nation’s capital territory without feeding our eyes with the beauty of the city.
After the evening session of the last day, knowing we were going to leave the next day, my friend and I decided to take a stroll away from the conference venue. We were still putting on the dresses we wore for the dinner in the conference which had ended about an hour ago. Mine was a flowing lilac Ankara and hers was a purple knee length English gown. We got engrossed in our conversation and we walked quite a distance then we decided to stand and continue talking.
We were standing by a tarred road, cars were still moving so we knew it wasn’t a deserted area plus there was a street light over where we stood. We were however deceived by the brightness the light brought and the movement of people and cars and so we forgot how late it really was. Only God know exactly what we were talking about sef… Lol. My legs were aching from the long standing but that was not a good enough reason to end the seemly endless but interesting conversation.
As we stood in the middle of nowhere, I noticed that from time to time cars that passed us slowed down but I didn’t let that bother me. ‘Perhaps it was because we were standing at a turning, I thought to myself. It was getting more frequent and we started seeing ladies being dropped off by guys. That raised my suspicion a bit. Gradually the ladies started increasing in number, and then I knew something was wrong.
Suddenly, one of the ladies walked up to where we were, she was wearing a very tight top and I think crazy jeans, she chewed the life out of the gum in her mouth and pointing to the car from which she was dropped off she said to me “that man wants to know if you are preaching to the other lady (my friend)”. I was confused and scared at the same time, I managed to answer by shaking my head and saying “no, we were just talking”. I could hear fear in my voice and feel my heart racing. It was there and then it occurred to my friend and I that we had been standing at a prostitute joint all along. I had to ask myself, “Am I a prostitute for standing here or for what I’m wearing? Did it look like I was waiting for a man to give my services to?” We didn’t need a prophet to tell us what to do; we fled for our dear lives.
Following that very unpleasant experience, it dawned on me that perhaps we did not recognise we were in a prostitute joint because the clothes the ladies wore were not really different from what ladies wear these days. That was definitely not because they dressed modestly but because everyone now seems to wear clothes that expose the body. It is really sad. The saying goes that ‘the way you dress, you will be addressed’, but believe me, there is more to that. My friend and I were decently dressed but because we were at the wrong place at the wrong time, we welcomed wrong company.
God’s standard of righteousness and holiness is not being lowered, even though the world system seems to be getting ‘crazier’. As God’s children, we have to keep shinning His light and not be swallowed up by the darkness of this age. We must stand out in our dressing, speech, conduct, love, faith, purity and so on (1 Tim 4:12). Don’t be carried away by the seemingly attractive things, instead draw others to God by your life. But if perhaps you feel you have gone too far away, always remember the extent to which Jesus went just to die for you because He loves you dearly. No sin is too great for His love to cleanse. Remain blessed.
‘His love goes deep enough to forgive the unforgivable,
Its strong enough to hold you up when you are falling down…
I know it sounds crazy, but that’s the way He loves you and me…’
– Lyrics from ‘Deep Enough’ by Anthony Brown and Group Therapy.
By Emmanuela Evbuoma
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Also related to this piece is And That’s How A Man Smacked My Buttocks In Public
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