The End Is Nigh...

Surely this isn't how it would end. Yet in my head that's what seemed like was happening, the curse of the witch doctor coming to haunt me, or worse yet malaria. With every step I took I was becoming weaker, and yet I pushed on knowing if I could get to me room everything would be ok, or at least I hoped it would be. Vision going blurred, narrow and short, temperature rising, but only another five metres to go, and then the sanctity of my bed and sleep.

Suddenly everything is black, and I have no memory of getting into bed. Who turned the lights out? Did I tuck my mosquito net in? Then it dawned on me, I wasn't in bed. So where was I? A voice in my head was telling me to open my eyes, yet my eyes simply didn't want to open. Eventually I forced one eye open, and just as I had thought I was not in bed, rather I was sprawled, lifeless, on the sand outside of my hut.

Panic set in as the fever engulfed my body, sweat running off me like water, energy continuing to sap away. If only I could get into my hut I would somehow survive this. With the last delusional ounces of energy that remained in my body I dragged myself into my room and onto my bed, where I let my body fall into a stupor, my mind going back over those two days with the witch doctor trying to work out when he had cursed my health....

The Witch Doctor's Village

Hans, Lineah (two friends from San Francisco I had made in Tofo) and myself, after quite a walk through the hills, arrived at the village where the local witch doctor, who had agreed to see us and answer out questions about his trade, resided. Whilst Hans, a fellow writer, and I were there for research purposes, Lineah came along purely for the experience - which was also a contributing factor for myself.

Despite Hans being close to fluent in Portuguese he knew not a word of Shangana or Matso (the only languages Samwuel the witch doctor spoke), and thus we had employed the services of a local craftsman to act as a translator, whilst Hans put everything into English for Lineah and myself. After exchanging pleasantires we were given an open floor to ask whatever we wanted, although it only took two questions before Samwuel offered to do a spiritual reading for each of us, which was an offer we could not refuse.

The Witch Doctor's Tikholo

I came into this trip knowing the best tool I could take was an open mind, and therefore thought I would give Samwuel a chance and see if he was as genuine as he proclaimed. Needless to say I was not disappointed. With the help of his Tikholo, a bizarre collection of shells, a dice, an old coin and various bones, some of which had silver or gold entwined in them, he entered into a deep conversation with my spirits. Before I continue I must stress I don't expect everyone to believe in what I am recanting, rather this is my own personal experience, and everyone has the right to draw their own conclusions.

Over the next fifteen minutes, which saw Samwuel continuoisly gather his Tikholo in both hands, before tapping them on the floor and scattering them - all the while muttering away to my spirits in an almost trance like state - he made four bizarre, yet wholly accurate revelations about me. They were as follows:

1. In the past I have had a tendancy to start many things, but failed to see all of them through.
2. When I dream my dreams only come right at the end of my sleep, if they come at all.
3. Despite having been in my percieved dream job for the last two years it only ever paid me just enough to get by each monnth.
4. I have knee problems and have had, in the past, two operations on my left knee.

There will be those will say that some of his revelations were a touch vague, and could have been lucky guesses - yet like I said before, each was unnervingly accurate to me. Despite having an open mind, I must admit that the second phase of the visit, which took part the following day, was, whilst a unique experience, not something I could believe in.

...Nothing there to sugest I had been cursed, or had he done it just by talking to my spirits? I tried to focus on what was real, the present and not the past, yet as the fever grew my thoughts could only focus on the idea I had been cursed, or had somehow contracted malaria...

The Witch Doctor's Hut

All I knew was that a bath had been prepared for me, and for it to be complete I had to proccure two eggs from the next village across, which was an easy enough task. Stripped down to my boxers and feeling a little uneasy, given that I was in the middle of the village, I was instructed to go to the shower area, and remember that at no stage could I look behind me. The bath turned into a cold wash, given by Samwuel's wife, with the herbal water, complete with two raw eggs stirred in, that was rubbed enthusiastically all over my body as I hung my head over the tub holding the liquid.

On completition of the bath I was sent to the edge of the village, where I had to wait for Hans to complete his bath - for he had gone through a similar process to me. The final act, which was by far the weirdest, was the making of the oil that I was to take away and rub over my body everytime I had a shower. Here Samwuel went into some deep trance, alternating between putting powder into the oil and his mouth!

...Still my temperature rises, my eyes rolling in my head and thoughts of a nasty and lonely end enter my mind. Still nothing of a curse, but then I haven't remembered the money and how he spat all over it...

With the oil made a price was agreed upon, which was too high for me, and too low for him - as is often the way in Africa - but both parties finally settled on it and the money was exchanged. Samwuel then informed us that the ritual he would perform with the money was to cast any evil spirits from my body into the money, and thus began a bizarre series of chants as he poured what appeared to be water over the floor, before taking a mouthful himself. That is when he looked to the heavens and spewed the liquid all over the money and various powders on the floor.

...Back in my room it dawned on me what was wrong. Through all of the time with Samwuel, which was close to two days, I had not drunk any water. So rather than dying of malaria or an evil curse I diagnosed myself with a simple case of dehydration - which still wasn't the nicest experience. Back to full fitness my travels are set to continue, right after I have caught up on some beach time.

written by

MarcusInAfrica on March 30, 2009 from Inhambane, Mozambique

from the travel blog: Cape to Cardiff

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wonderful writing - you should be sending this to the Sky website - not long now - counting the days - mum xxx

written by jayne Leach on March 30, 2009

Retard ! witchdoctors ...yeah , suppose he thinks he is bulletproof !

written by el presidente on April 2, 2009

As you know, I am a skeptic!! Sounds very interesting though chief...keep up the good work

written by

johnnoble on April 4, 2009

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