Moving through the street, you spot this light-skinned guy, heavily-bearded and with a mountain of dreadlocks housed on his head.
First Impression: Tout, drug dealer and a good-for-nothing. You can't still grasp why a normal-thinking individual would be donning such looks. Thinking of how irresponsible the family he comes from would be, you spot your next specimen. It's a lady this time.
Pair of denim jeans torn at the knee region, cleavage-revealing top, rings pierced through nostrils and lips and a nice long hair. "It's probably Brazilian," you presume. "Such extravagance," you blurt out.
Results of Analysis: A whore, a slut and a slutty whore.
It seems the streets are too 'street' for you. Your eyes behold so much evil. You come closer to home now. Your neighbor, Pastor Agatha.
Oh Pastor Agatha. But there's this Particular guy that comes around fortnightly. Always on weekends. He virtually stays indoors throughout his stay and leaves late on Sunday evenings. And you're quite sure that urinating is not the only thing he does with his shaft whenever he's at Pastor Agatha's. You just can't seem to marry how she preaches one thing and does the exact opposite. She's a Pastor for heaven's sake.
Dear Disillusioned Seer, that light-skinned, heavily-bearded, dreadlocks-wearing dude is on a scholarship abroad and just came back for holidays.
The slutty whore is not as slutty as you think she is. Matter-of-factly, she's a top, top model and was dressed that way because she had a beauty pageantry to attend.
And what about Pastor Agatha?
The guy whose shaft becomes dual-functional whenever he's in her place - or so you think - is actually her husband! Yeah, her husband. The nature of his job takes him off home for two weeks. He only has two weekends in a month to spend with his wife. That explains his visits. Sorry St. Disillusioned, you got it so wrong this time. Now let's talk about you for a second.
You who is a choir mistress and yet all you do on the mic each service day is advertisement. You who has become the female version of Jesus Christ, for "no man cometh into the choir except through me" - both sexually and literally. You that has dug both hands and feet into the choir treasury, looted money and spent it on your Romeo, hoping and waiting for his marriage proposal which doesn't seem forthcoming. But people don't know this version of you, do they? All they see is the great singer that blesses people with her music. They hardly see the good-for-nothing, slutty and hypocritical choir mistress.
Point is, you just can't figure people out from afar. You have to know someone to actually know someone. You're no sorcerer, prophet or seer to be able to deduce the stuff people are made of by mere looks. Ok wait! I know what you're about to say now. You're about to come up with the age-long cliché 'you're addressed the way you dress'. As much as it is true, it is also stupid to generalize and sanction people to the personalities you've already created for them in your head just because of how they look.
Looks would tell you that Nicki Minaj, Rihanna, Beyonce are pro whores. What looks wouldn't tell you is that these people are exceptional musicians. Looks would force you into believing that Nigeria's Iyanya and Flavour are actually bouncers. But it wouldn't give you the slightest of clues that these guys are great singers/vocalists.
That cute dude could still be a virgin at 22. That hot chick that looks like she's been screwing sugar daddies for fortune - or so you think - is a software engineer at Apple. Arnold is not a yahoo boy. Arnold is a successful blogger that is into his means of livelihood full-time.
My point? Don't judge a book by it's cover. Wait till you read it's contents. My maths textbooks back then used to have pictures of children playing and enjoying themselves on it's cover page.
This article was written by- Victor Edwin
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