I'd like to tell you all a little bit more about part of where I come from, or rather, more about my dad and his startling adventures in Africa. What I'm about to tell you here, he has told me.
I was born in Kenya, in a region called Nyanza, in a tribe called Luo, where my parents worked at the time, my dad in a local school, and my mum as a nurse.
The interesting thing about Nyanza in my little story, is the presence of witch-doctors. I have been told, that the best voo-doo masters of the West Coast of Africa were trained by the masters of Nyanza. And these people are not playing. Most other tribes in Eastern Africa, have traditionally been more or less in some kind of turbulent relationships as long as anyone can remember. I remember my Luo nanny saying that Kikuyu people eat children, and as far as I know, the Kikuyu would say the same about Luos - and anyone else for that matter. Kikuyus were, as far as I know, considered the greates warriors in Kenya, maybe apart from the Massai.
Anyways, tribes would attack each other now and then, but they would avaoid the Luos. And if they did decide to attack the Luos, they would organize a small guerilla-type attack during the night, a quick in-and-out operation. And before entering Luo territory, the warriors involved would shave all body hair, including eye-lashes. Because if a witch-doctor got hold of any minute piece of you, you'd be dead, dead n'dead in a horrible fashion.
My dad has many interesting stories of Nyanza witch-doctors, in particular from the time we/they lived there.
But one of the more freaky stories happened relatively recently.
It starts some years ago. My parents were involved in a hospital project in Kenya. Very many strange things happened, both "unexplainable" and mundane ones, including corruption, a catholic priest and two nuns who wanted to claim the hospital buildings and make a church, the stealing of medicine, and the poisoning of an accountant - who almost died (had he not guessed what was going on at the last moment and stopped eating the dinner he was served, he would have been dead dead n'dead in a horrible fashion. But he managed to escape (dramatically so) to tell the tale).
So in uncovering all this, in particular the corruption that was going on, my dad made powerful enemies. And a few years ago, my father became very ill, with chest pains and throat pains. The doctors couldn't figure out what it was. But my dad is a man of spiritual resources as well as anything else, so he went to a friend of his who is clairvoyant. He said 'I've no idea how or why, but there's a black rooster sitting on your chest, digging his claws in, and pecking at your throat, till the blood gushes out'.
-Well, Nyanza witch doctors use - guess once - right. Black roosters. My dad knew at once who had put the evil eye on him, but had no idea how to get rid of it. So the clairvoyant friend laid a plan. The black rooster was very far away from home, and didn't know the "locals". There are no red foxes in Africa. So the clairvoyant conjured up a large, beautiful red fox to fight to rooster. He watched them fight for a long time, but the fox couldn't kill the rooster. It injured it though, and in the end the rooster left.
But - just a few weeks ago, the clairvoyant had a strange visit - from the rooster, who asked where my dad was. At the time, my dad was out of town, and the clairvoyant and my dad didn't get in touch. But that same day, my father started to experience symptoms of pain in the throat agan. He didn't think too much of it, but went to the chemist to get painkillers, vitamins, coughdrops - the whole deal, thinking he might be catching a severe cold.
My dad is part of a group who do circle work every Wednesday. It's a fairly large group of between 12 and 20 people, I think. The clairvoyant is also part of that group. He summoned them for a meeting, and had them all visualise foxes and send them after my dad.
At that time, my dad was on a trip by cable car with collegues. He got a text-message from a group member, who said 'we're thinking of you'. And soon after he looked down, and there he saw - you guessed it - a beautiful red fox staring up at him!!
Later, when they got together and compared their stories, they were baffeled.
It seems that the black rooster had recooperated, and come back to finish the job. Hopefully the foxes managed to take him out completely this time round. My dad's well, so at least they gave a good enough fight to send the rooster scuttling off again.
This story was the latest of my dad's Africa experiences. He's considering writing a book when he retires. But he's decided to call it fiction, since no-one will believe him anyways...
Giggles
Free Forum Hosting
Important Announcement
First 
