He struggled to find space among the crowd of smelly, sweaty peasants, all of whom had left their fields to petition the new governor. Potiphar’s case was no different from theirs. He was once a highly regarded personality throughout the kingdom of Egypt, but had been reduced to the lowest class in the Egyptian social strata. He sighed wearily as he bent and weaved through the crowd to avoid being detected by one of his former juniors and servants. If only he could get to see Joseph. He sighed wearily as memories of the past years rushed through his brain.
Life was pretty decent for Potiphar in his early years. He was born into a middle-class Egyptian family—not entirely middle-class, but not upper-class either; say, upper-middle class. Growing up, he had enjoyed the little affluence that came with his father’s position as a government official. And, after his father, Potiphar Snr’s, death, the duty fell upon him as the oldest son to consolidate his father’s estate.
He did the best any ordinary male in his position would do. He assumed his deceased father’s position in the Egyptian palace. With his average business knowledge and a little bit of luck, Potiphar was able to increase his father’s lands, slaves, and material wealth. He then tied the knot with Tika, the lady from the house of Ashthankhatuk, whom his late father had arranged for him to strengthen their family’s social status. This final decision would come back to haunt him. Potiphar shivered at this recollection.
Among the many slaves he bought at the beginning of his wealth was a lanky lad who called his name Joseph. At first sight, the kid did not look cut out for fieldwork. But the slave merchant was a very persuasive fellow.
“He’ll grow into it. Don’t they all?”
Given that the lad was good-looking and not very expensive, he bought him with the thought of figuring out his purpose later. And from that moment on, the kid singled himself out from the rest of the slaves. For starters, he was not as depressed or morose-looking as the other slaves. Even when his future was uncertain in the slave merchant’s stall, he had that glint in his eyes and a confident chip on his shoulders. He was the most cheerful slave Potiphar had ever seen. The lad also had some natural people skills; leadership came easily to him. The lad, Joseph, excelled in everything and became Potiphar’s right-hand man.
As a result of Joseph’s brilliance, Potiphar moved him away from fieldwork and put him in charge of the day-to-day affairs of his house. But in order to give him a proper Egyptian education and style, Potiphar enrolled him with the best mathematicians, astrologers, philosophers, and other teachers in various disciplines. Given how naturally talented Joseph is, his results were superb. Soon enough, he began to confound his Egyptian tutors with his wit. The numbers in Potiphar’s businesses, which Joseph managed, began skyrocketing. Potiphar’s net worth bloomed; he received promotions upon promotions and became more respectable in the royal court.
A new problem soon arose for Potiphar in the form of his wife, Tike. Even before he married her, he had always heard stories of her hot flings with other men. But he dismissed the rumors as slanderous and baseless claims. He always thought to himself, Who wouldn’t be jealous of him for having such a beautiful wife? He adored her, and he made sure everyone knew. However, with successes in his businesses and responsibilities in the royal court, he grew less intimate with her. He had hoped she would understand. But Tika always stubbornly nagged him for more intimacy and affection. She had grown jealous of Joseph and frequently accused Potiphar of spending more time with his slave than his wife. Potiphar dismissed her words, but they stuck with him, which was why when he came back home later that day to find Joseph tied down and Tika accusing him (Joseph) of trying to rape her, he angrily ordered him to be put in one of the cruelest prisons in the country, the Pharaoh’s jail.
Potiphar was jolted back into reality by the noise that greeted the arrival of the royal governor’s procession. He craned his neck to get a good view of the governor while praying silently under his breath to all the Egyptian gods that the governor would see him too. Tears brimmed in his eyes as he recalled how faithfully and diligently Joseph served him and how he didn’t trust him enough to believe his story when Tika accused him of attempting to rape her. Potiphar recalled all the misfortunes that befell him as soon as Joseph left the house: how his barns burned down, how he was disgraced in the royal court, how Tika left him, taking a significant portion of his wealth with her, and how he was reduced to a mere commoner. He couldn’t control himself anymore, and he broke into sobs, wailing Joseph’s name with the rest of the crowd. Just then, Joseph turned and looked in his direction.
He smiled.
Potiphar smiled.
He knew his troubles were over.
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