Physically, my wounds had started healing.
Emotionally?
Different story.
The compound felt colder.
Quieter.
Stranger.
The same stairs.
The same gate.
The same neighbors.
Yet everything had changed.
As I walked inside that evening, conversations suddenly stopped.
People looked away.
Others stared.
Children became quiet.
The entire place felt uncomfortable.
I entered my room slowly and sat down.
Then I noticed an envelope outside my door.
No name.
Nothing.
Just one folded paper.
I opened it.
Inside were shaky handwritten words:
"Fear can turn people into strangers."
"I was afraid."
"I thought I was fighting for my marriage."
"Instead, I destroyed everything."
"I am sorry."
My chest tightened immediately.
Because I already knew who wrote it.
Daniel’s wife.
I sat there staring at the paper for a very long time.
Then tears came unexpectedly.
Because suddenly I realized something painful:
Nobody really won.
Not me.
Not her.
Not Daniel.
Not anybody.
One woman carried scars.
Another faced prison.
A marriage collapsed.
A compound divided.
All because pride became stronger than wisdom.
And that night, before sleeping, one final thought entered my mind:
If I could go back to that market day...
The day she called me Jezebel...
Would I answer differently?
This time...
I think I would.
