The Cradle on the Scales

The trial Judge paused again and sipped from the misted glass of water that stood beside his big black books. And then with a voice, which sounded like that of God in judgement against Adam and Eve when the two were driven out of paradise for obeying the decree of God to increase and multiply and fill the void that was earth, the learned Judge said.

“It is therefore for the above reasons that I allow this appeal, set aside the conviction and sentence of November 15th, and declare the appellant discharged and acquitted.”

Before the emotional shuffles and sighs in the courtroom could be noticed, the court had risen again. Akomaye could not believe his ears as he watched the august Judge walk into the court chambers, in what appeared to Akomaye in celestial dignity. Unimke felt a swooning sensation inside the dock. He was not sure whether the hand that held him was that of the policeman or some other sympathizer. Only it was gentler and less official than the many rude grabs he had become used to these past months. Justice, the magic word that would do and undo, was done, and not only so, but seen to be done.

Akomaye closed his eyes in silent supplication and praise to the Almighty, oblivious of all the mixed tempo movements in and outside the courtroom. But Unimke wondered silently and could not now make head or tail of the multiple thoughts that plagued his mind about this whole contraption called life and the mysterious ways of human justice.

***

Mary knelt down before the crucifix that formed part of her private sanctuary and poured out her soul in supplication and praise to her savior. Deep inside her, she knew that her recent interaction with the trial Judge was clearly the hand of God’s own mercy in the case. She wondered what her future career was all about if she could not save humanity in her own small way even if it did not look right in the eyes of the church. Her embattled cousin was the nearest approximation of God’s image, so she believed she would not be stoned for whatever she did to save the life of Unimke. She did not care whether he was guilty or not. After all, did not the holy Book itself pronounce that all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God’s salvation? And was not one of the two robbers crucified with the Lamb saved by a simple act of grace?

Someone knocked at her door, which opened and admitted Akomaye, Unimke, together with Madam and Catechist. They did not wish to break the prayerful concentration of Mary. But she turned to them as though in question.

“Bad conscience, you must know the truth, my dear sister, to lighten my burden.” Akomaye muttered in broken accents, his manly eyes fiery and full with unshed tears which drained inwards to scorch his embattled heart; a heart that had turned into stone.

“What has happened again?” Mary asked in her true innocence. And Akomaye opened his heart, while Mary stared, listening like Pastor Gallagher to some penitent.

“Never seek to know the truth, for its brightness will blind you. My sin has trailed me like my shadow.” Akomaye began.

“No!” cut in Mary. “Wash your guilt away. Sin is not like smoke that issues from every house where someone is cooking, for every head will look like a smoking cigarette.”

“No; just this once and no more! ... The home is the very crucible and cradle of our tomorrow. It’s proper that we cleanse it now or never.” And he began. “I will tell you gently, gently ...” And he purged his mind to the family in the hope of regeneration; like poor Andoukye who died many years ago to give life to this day….

That evening, Mary kept her post-abortion appointment with Dr. Alex. After an hour of counseling, he finally told Mary that her HIV antigen test was positive. For a moment, the grace of God became insufficient for her. Her whole world seemed to crumble through the infection of the rotted under-belly of the world that went on oblivious of the pretensions of men and women. But it was only hope deferred which made her heart sick.