I was at my uncle’s house,
new to the city and just a teenager.
One afternoon, someone’s shoe was stolen from a mosque—
an incident I didn’t know about,
and I hadn’t even visited that mosque at the time.
That night, I went to the mosque to pray.
As I prepared for my prayer,
someone grabbed my collar
and accused me of being the thief.
They judged me by my poor appearance
and the fact that I wore similar-looking shoes,
which I had bought from a store, not stolen.
That day, my self-esteem about my looks was destroyed,
and my social anxiety began.
A mob gathered proudly, ready to punish me.
The noise was so loud
that no one could hear my pleas of innocence.
Fortunately, the call for prayer saved me—
temporarily.
The mob decided to beat me after the prayer.
They took me to the third floor,
made me stand by a large window to pray,
and surrounded me so I couldn’t escape.
For a moment, I thought about jumping out the window,
but I wasn’t brave enough.
Trembling in fear, I prayed to God,
begging for salvation
because I was innocent.
After the prayer,
as they prepared to attack me,
I spotted my cousin in the distance.
I ran to him and explained everything.
He confronted the accuser
and forced an apology out of them.
They said sorry,
and I forgave them,
but their apology couldn’t heal my shattered self-esteem
or erase my newfound social anxiety.
Even now, whenever I see a thief, robber, or hijacker
caught and beaten by a mob,
I feel deeply sad.
Even if they committed a crime,
they deserve proper justice
and the right to be heard.
I understand some people vent their frustrations
by punishing criminals,
but mob violence isn’t justice.
A mob can never establish true justice.
My plea to them is this:
at least, don’t feel proud about beating someone,
even if they’re a criminal.