Dear Father Philip of the Grace Bible Church.

Traditionally we begin confessional with the holy words: “Forgive me Father for I have sinned.” Traditionally confessionals are done in the confessional at church, in the presence of the holy spirit and you, Father. Traditionally I am considered to be a pleasantly good-natured aunt, daughter and neighbour, as well as a responsible citizen, with an averagely good standing as a human being. A 29 -year – old, unmarried woman with a pet cat, saying my prayers before bed and never daring to litter.

However, today as I write this, seated at my desk in my bedroom, while early morning birds sing a sweet summer melody in the sunshine outside, I hardly feel the need to be traditional. Today Father Philip, I feel overwhelmed with a sense of dire shamefulness.

I am terrible with spoken words. Especially when I am compelled to speak out what’s on my mind. I often hiccup and stumble, making a mess of what I have to say. Therefore Father, today I have chosen to write down my confession, as I believe I will be more liberal and expressive with my words. Now, let me be clear Father. What I am about to confess is not considered to be classified as a sin, but more along the lines of a terribly bad habit that I possess.

Like many people around the world Father, I too possess general bad habits. Like I eat a lot of chocolates and do not exercise. Or I choose to miss Sunday church service sometimes, as I just want to sleep in till late; or peer over the wall in an attempt to discover what exactly the new verbal quarrelling my neighbours were engaged in was all about – completely normal isn’t it Father? Those habits don’t bother me Father, but my most detrimental bothersome habit – my confession – is my habit of constantly passing out my judgement upon people based solely on their appearance.

Sadly Father, at times it’s not just restricted to people only, but everything around me in general. Like the state of a person’s home, a present I may receive, my neighbour’s dog, a cup of tea – and sometimes even you as well Father Philip, when I see you by the cigarette counter at the convenience store at night (My apologies Father).
My judgement then forms the basis of my opinion, and I regret to admit that most of the time, my judgements are negative. This Father makes it difficult for me to form friendshipsor to offer a hand of kindness and be more approachable towards random people.

So I guess Father, that doesn’t quite make me a good human being, right?

I want to highlight two instances, which occurred recently, where I had made an error in my judgement of people. The first is when I attended my niece’s annual cultural show, about a month ago. It was during the after-show’s meet and greet, that I came across a smallish middle-aged woman, who had hair coloured the most hideous poison green, gaudy colourful clothing (much like parrot feathers, Father), and talked so very loud and boisterously, I immediately judged her a quarrelsome character.

Furthermore, I refused to associate myself with her, even when my niece attempted to acquaint us, as the woman was the mother of her good friend. I regret to add Father, that it didn’t quite cross my mind whether the woman felt offended by behaviour or not.
My niece, (bless her 12-year-old intelligence) took notice of my dismissive attitude and later on asked me why I reacted in that manner. I proceeded to tell her about my judgement of the woman and this, Father was her reply: “Oh Aunt Chloé, you are greatly mistaken,” she said. “Mrs Nair is actually a lovely and kind individual, who has recently escaped a bad phase of her life. She was a victim of gender-based violence in her marriage. Now that she and her children have broken free and live in relatively peace and safety, Mrs Nair has decided to rediscover herself, hence the loud appearance,” she explained. Finally she added, “Please aunt, stop trying to judge a book by its cover.”

The second instance occurred last Saturday at the local market, where I saw a young man, who wore a mean gaze and a body covered in tattoos that seemed sacrilegious, standing in the same pathway my niece and I were walking on. I tried my utmost best to avoid walking even an inch near him, when my niece asked, “Why are you walking like that aunt?”

“See that tattooed man we just passed? I don’t trust him. He has a dangerous look about him; like he is a deranged convict, or perhaps something more sinister, like a child abuser or killer.”

Upon hearing this my niece let out a tired sigh. “You’re doing it again,” she said. “What?” I asked bewildered. “You are judging a book by it’s cover again. Turn around aunt.”

I did, and I saw tattoo man putting on a jacket that was clearly labelled: “Life Saver Paramedic”.

My niece smiled at me sadly and said, “Some convict he turned out to be, huh aunt !” I hung my head in shame; utterly embarrassed.

Do you see my problem now Father ? I am fully aware that my habit to judge is utterly wrong and immoral and I gain no joy from it. It sickens and disgusts me. Neither do I have any false sense of superiority or righteousness; nor am I influenced by cultural and societal norms. It’s just a damnable habit that’s damaging my ability to be more considerate towards people.

Perhaps Father, I need psychological help to confront this frustrating habit. Perhaps I need prayer or as my niece simply tells me Father, “Perhaps all you need to do is to understand aunt. Just understand.”
Perhaps she’s right, Father.
Perhaps…