What is pain? What pain hurts more than a cut? A false accusation against a guiltless individual rends a searing pain into the soul.
In 2009, while in school, I experienced this horrible feeling. It was one of the worst pain in my life. My best friend falsely accused me of her stealing her $2(#500). Aarrgh! Within, my worst horror, I could not believe the scenario. It was like African magic but happening in real time.
I stayed with my coursemate, in a three-story building, having about one-hundred rooms, all self-contained. On this particular day, my coursemate brought her girlfriends to the room. Seven of us were there. According to my friend, she dropped $2(#500) on the table. She said that she couldn't find it. Well yes, I went close to the table, but not to collect her money. She knew my values and integrity but decided to blame and accuse me in front of the others.
Her friends sided with her and they called me all sort of names. She made sure the whole hostel knew about it for some reason. I don't know why. We never had a fight or misunderstanding
Only someone in a position of trust and loyalty can betray you. An outsider can never hurt someone in that manner.
I could not bear the assigned-shame, guilt, and pain. I became overwhelmed with grief. I stepped out and got some gin. I drank with sorrow and regrets. Where I sat down drinking, there was a razor blade close to me. I picked up the razor, and I used it to cut myself several times. I wanted to feel the pain of the cut but I could not.
(this mark is something I can never forget my whole life)
Even though I bled much, it was nothing compared to the bleeding in my heart. Everyone in the hostel was now against me.
Well, two days later while sweeping, my ex-friend swept the money out from under the bed. Oh my God! Then I called everyone in the hostel to clear my name and told them she had found the money. Ooooooh!
After that day I had to pack my things and go home. I was then going to school from the house. In her mind, she owned me no apology because I was not making part-payment on the rent. When I packed up and left, she came to realize how much I was hurt. Only then, she asked me to forgive her. Well, I did, but I could not take her back as a friend. I realized that if her words were to save me at a point of death, she could never have even attempted to deliver me. She was who I called her a friend.
My question for us all is:
Whom do you call friends?
Do you think you know your friends?
