2 December 2015

BEAUTY

She was tall. Really tall. About 6'1 tall without the shoes she had on, which were some drool-worthy Sophia Websters. That was the first thing I noticed. Then I saw her eyes. A beautiful shade of chestnut. And very long black hair which she packed up in a ponytail, no weaves or extensions visible. "She is really beautiful", I thought. I wanted to tell her that but I walked past with my friends who were also admiring her. We stopped to get Ice cream at the Coldstone store, and afterwards, we went to catch a movie.

An hour and thirty minutes later, after the movie had ended, we went down to window-shop and probably buy whatever the spirit leads us to buy. We had gone past 3 stores when we heard raised voices and sounds of someone crying. The 'tatafo antennas' in us stood at attention, and like ant soldiers, we matched to the source of the noise. At the entrance to the store, we acted like we were actually interested in buying a set of makeup brushes, and armed with makeup lingo, we strutted into the store and to the makeup aisle. We put up a performance of disinterest in the argument/fight going on at the checkout point of the store whilst taking up vantage positions at the makeup aisle.

The first thing I noticed was the tall beautiful lady from earlier screaming at 4 other persons. Her eyes, once brown and beautiful, were icy and piercing whoever was unfortunate to have them fixed on them. She still had her hair packed up in a ponytail, and still wore the same clothes, a beautiful gown made of Ankara print with sequins like those made by Tiffany Amber, but she no longer looked beautiful. Far from it! She looked scary to say the least!! Icicles were practically flying out of her eyes. Whatever made her angry must have been bad. And whoever was the cause of her anger must have done something terrible.

Bit by bit, the argument started making sense to me. Apparently, the tall 'Ice Queen' had picked some things from the store, and upon paying in cash, the cashier told her that some of the notes were too damaged for her to accept and that the Ice Queen should change them. At that, the Ice Queen gave the cashier one 'beta' slap that had the poor girl crying profusely. "Do you know who I am? Do you know who you are insulting? Is your madam not that small girl of yesterday? Binta of yesterday is your madam and she didn't teach you how to treat your customers?!"...and on the Ice Queen went.

At this point, my friends and I had abandoned our camouflage and were shamelessly watching the show before us. A 'good Samaritan' came in and tried to pacify the warring parties but the Ice Queen could not be pacified. A man, whom she referred to as "Baby", later came into the store, paid for the things she had picked, and took her out of the store by the hand. My friends and I, not acting anymore, left the store. We met the 'Ice Queen' and her 'Baby' at the car park, she no longer looked beautiful to me.

I went home with a lesson that day. Beauty really is not just about the physical. It goes deeper than that. Beauty is how you think and talk, how you act whether or not people are watching, how you treat others as much as how you treat yourself. Beauty is about the mind...that which cannot be bought. That which stays after the make-up is off. That which stays through the smooth skin and the wrinkles. Beauty is how others perceive you when you do not know that they have you in their thoughts.

I saw the Ice Queen again at some event some months later, in a lovely, expensive-looking attire. I am not one to judge people, but she did not look as beautiful as the first time I had seen her and this had nothing to do with her clothes or makeup. The 'inside' of her had ruined the picture.


-The Lady


        “As yet I am as strong this day as I was in the day that Moses sent me: as my strength was then,
                          even so is my strength now, for war, both to go out, and to come in.”
                                                                     Joshua‬ ‭14:11‬

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