RE: Lying with hand-phones
Brethren, last week’s essay on the above subject has elicited lot of responses from readers of Daily Trust all around the country. From Kano came words of appreciation; from Lagos, I received words, not of disquisition but inquisition. For example, Sambauna from Kano sent a message of lamentation. He would permit my editing of his intervention thus: “Most people today take truth-saying and deeds as obstacles (on their path towards fame and fortune). ...They do not (experience any sense of shame whenever they tell you lies. (They tell lies) despite their ages, (their) position and (status)...May the Almighty (redeem us all). In conclusion, may the Almighty reward you with the highest Paradise. Amin”.
The responses the essay elicited compelled introspection on my side. I asked myself again and again: why do we tell lies to ourselves first before we begin to tell it to others? In other words, the liar is first of all a liar to himself before becoming a liar unto the other; the murderer begins by murdering the “self” in himself first before spilling the blood of others. Thus he who tells lies to the other must have acted and told lies to himself; he must have committed an infraction against his own soul; he must have willfully gone against the will of the Almighty. “When a believer utters a lie without a valid excuse, he is cursed by seventy thousand angels. Such a stench emanates from his heart that it reaches the sky and because of this single lie the Almighty writes for him a sin equivalent to that of committing seventy fornications the least of which is fornication with one’s mother.”
Why do we tell lies? Why do we hide behind our hand-phones? SMO from Lagos provided a response. She began by saying: “As salam alaykum. Barka Jumah. How have you been? As a Civil Servant, we have to address them as “His Excellency”. In other words, telling lies has become a tradition, a policy, and an obligation in our society. During the last Ramadan, I was invited to give an after-Iftar talk to a gathering of Muslim faithfuls in the palatial mansion of a Muslim title-holder. In the audience that evening was the Executive Governor of that state. As soon as it was time for Iftar, it was “Your Excellency” who got to the platform where bowls of dates and the fruits were placed; it was he who first enjoyed the privilege of taking the first ‘shot’ at the meal on display. When eventually I was given the microphone, the first statement the Almighty caused me to make was in question format: who is the real “Your Excellency”? Is he “Your Excellency” who ate dates with us while we were breaking the fast? Is he “Your Excellency” who after having eaten of what came from the earth would have to go to the toilet sooner or later?” I asked the audience: Should the adjective “Your Excellency” not delimited to He who neither eats nor drinks, sleeps nor slumber...? Why do we tell ourselves what we are not?
But SMO was not done. She said further: “Some people do not deserve to know the truth about me, so I may avoid their calls, (tell them to) call back later or tell them that I am busy”. Talk of existential arguments in favour of side-stepping the truth. Indeed it is true. It is true that not everybody deserves to know where we are and what we are doing. It is true that we have to engage in constant battles with busy-bodies- individuals who never hearkens to one of the simplest admonitions of the Prophet of Islam, Muhammad (s.a.w). He it was who said that “of the goodness of faith of a Muslim is his lack of involvement in matters which do not concern him”.
That said, I would however argue that even in situations such as had been described by SMO, we can still hold on to the truth. I could tell the busybody “where I am now does not matter to you; I would call once I’m done”. Here I would be reminding him or her of the necessity to mind their business. Someone once said that “there is beauty in truth, even if it’s painful”. When I heard it I immediately countered by saying it was our Prophet who commanded to us to say the truth even if it is sour.
Remember those who tell lies desire to twist life so that it looks tasty to them, to the other, to the world. But lies do none of that. Lies do not teach anything, help anything, fix anything or cure anything. Nor do they develop one’s character, one’s mind, one’s heart or one’s soul. When we come face to face with the truth and we decide to keep silent, then our silence in that particular moment is a form of lie.
Brethren, lying today has become big-business. It is known as stand-up comedy. It has become a big industry worth millions of dollars. I remember the Prophets advised to Abu Zhar: O Abu Zar, woe be upon the one who speaks falsehood to make people laugh.
(Afis A. Oladosu is a Professor at the University of Ibadan.