![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiktoIoUNYoFVrkgiYhXknWWaqLA8Q8b06_BM9HAnyxE_VSgA6CiKBUSoabZ-iTjNPFPm3qYIKAjev9vcW7oITcttJQ5DyxZNZxq0sVP4Jlg79M4H2s8ydArth_dZCwuYAosThF_-jcMAi4/s320/Somalian+woman.jpeg)
For the young Somalian woman who was convicted of adultery based on trumped up charges, and sentenced to death by a tribal court and later stoned to death in public.
They were right,
The puritans,
The faithful servants of the God.
Adultery was a crime,
To be swept from the face of the Earth,
At any cost.
A canard was sufficient evidence,
To pass death sentence,
On an adulteress,
In a country,
Where no smoke arose without fire,
And where the Law could be customized.
Truth, they maintained,
Needed little evidence to support it.
After all, it wasn`t too inhuman,
Only her face was mauled.
Even in the sultriest climes,
Stones would not melt,
Nor dissolve in the blood.
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