Thread by @ikentanzi_

A Prophet Wanted Me Dead.

A Thread.
#Threadist

To see them dancing in their snow white and black patterned regalia, waving their red-clay-smeared-arms in the air while chanting songs that I had no doubt carried the very essence of what it meant to be African.

This was always an introduction to all the untold stories of my special kind of dreams. I would see them either around a blazing red ball of fire or on top of a green mountain, encircled by bushes of long brown hay beneath it.

Although they were always far away from me, I could always tell that their faces and necks were covered in what looked like white clay. The kind of clay that my grandmother would put on when going to work at the crop fields, and when hosting ceremonies at home.

My sisters and I would joke about it and call it her make up.
Each time I saw this strange group of people, they would call unto me, and I would always summon courage to walk towards them.

In each dream, without fail, a heavy fog would surround me before I could get to them. In each dream, my bare little feet would dance to the rhythm of songs they sang, and then stop when my sight got blinded by the fog.

With each dream, I felt a deeper connection with these harmonious group of people whom waved at me each time I saw them. Somehow, they knew me, and I, them. In each dream,I’d try to escape the mysterious fog but, it would catalyse my resurrection back into the real world.

‘’Damn! I almost got to them this time! In my next dream, I will make sure I start running towards those people, before the fog comes. I will not let that fog stop me again!’’ My fourteen year old self would say.

I’m sad to say, even that didn’t help me get closer to them. The fog was far too smart. Far too fast.

I would often fantasise about finally meeting with those people. To have them close to me, and to ask them why they always come in my dreams.

When I was seventeen, right before finishing my matric, I learnt that the people I had been dreaming about for over six years, were actually demons.
Sduduzo, a classmate of mine who was spiritually inclined at the time, was the one that opened this can of worms for me.

He was preaching about dreams in class, and it just so happened that the dreams he spoke against, resembled the recurrent dreams that I had.
To say that this nearly killed me, would be an understatement!
I was devastated!

To think that I had even made it my life’s mission to reach them and to sing along with them, brought nothing but shame to me.
‘’How could I not know?! The fog that would always engulf me and bring me back to life, should’ve been a sign that those people were not good.’’ I said.

“I don’t want to see them again!”
I carved this on the walls of my mind, but my heart still held on to those people’s familiarity, even though I had not met.
I swear to God they saw the carvings on the walls of mind because those dreams started coming to me every day of the week.

In those dreams, they were no longer joyous and still in one place but, they would march towards me- and I, away from them.
I was now scared of meeting them.

Who knows what would have happened had I finally met them?

What if they were going to turn into monstrous creatures with fangs and sharp claws, and loud frightening roars from hell?!

What if they wanted to suck my blood, or even worse, kill me like how Sduduzo said they would?!

The story of my dreams was going to be a secret I was to take to my grave. I was afraid of what people would think of me for having the same kind of dreams, with the same people, singing the same song, for over six years. I knew this was not normal…not by a long shot!

This is when I developed the art of verbally speaking to myself. Every day after school I would rush out, so that I could walk alone & have conversations with myself.

Again, I knew this was not normal, because my peers at that time were only worried about boys and drinking, and partying, and all the other things that I was ignorant to.
There I was, speaking to myself about every other thing, more especially about my dreams.

One day on my way back from school, I decided to take a shortcut route that was on an open veld- leading up to a tiny spring that we always had to jump, to get to the other side. I didn’t want to walk by the road where everyone was.
I wanted to alone.

Little did I know, this was the day I would see a messenger from the people in my dreams. I was about to cross the little spring by the shallow valley, when I spotted a brown snake with black spots as though it was wearing leopard print skin.

It was easy to spot as it was on a grey rock, and its skin glistened in the sun.
Its head was facing towards my direction as if it anticipated my arrival. Overwhelmed by shock, I remained motionless- and my eyes would not shy away from it.

It then started slowly moving its upper shaft from right to left in a repetitive manner as though it were waving at me.I came to my senses & started to slowly walk backwards.I guess I didn’t runaway because it was on the other side of the spring & I thought snakes can’t swim.

‘’Uyaphi Fezile?’’ A female voice came to me.
I quickly looked behind me to see if the voice came from behind me, but there was no one. When I moved my sight back to the waving snake, I found it no longer on the other side of the spring, but on my side.

‘’Uyaphi Fezile?’’ The voice repeated, but now it had an echo that somehow triggered dizzy spells and blurry vision as if I was to wake up from a dream.
For some reason, my intention of running away was no longer my body’s aim.

‘’Kudala sikulindile (We’ve been waiting for you for a long time now)’’ The same female voice said to me, and then the blurriness cleared. I then saw in front of me an old lady in those same snow white attires with black patterned stripes that the people in my dreams wore.

She had long dreadlocked hair with black and white beads sewed onto them.
‘’Kudala ufuna ukusibona, akunjalo? (You’ve been yearning to meet us for long time now, right?’’ She said to me. My surprisingly calm self-nodded yes.

She smiled at me and then extended her hand to give me the wooden walking stick she had on her hand, but I was quickly pulled away from her, by a force mightier than gravity before I could grab it. I opened my eyes to find myself on a grass mat, in some grass roofed-dark hut.

I quickly sat up in panic, then calmed down when I saw my elder sister and grandmother sitting down on the far-left side of the room. A man instantly walked in and smiled at me saying, ‘’I see you’re back my child.’’
I didn’t respond. My grandmother did.

Later that day, when we were home, my sister told me that I was brought home by some boys from my school, and that they had found me unconscious by the spring. I asked her if the boys said anything about a leopard-printed snake, or an overly calming granny but, she said no.

All she knew was that they had to take me to a healer in order to wake me up.
I then figured out I must’ve passed out after seeing that snake. What I didn’t understand was why the snake didn’t attack me…or maybe it did?

I can’t say for sure because my grandmother starting acting suspicious around me, she avoided talking about that incident.

She’d randomly smile at me for no reason, and insisted that I was the first one they dished up for before dishing up for everyone else, and no asked why.

My special dreams went MIA on me and I was actually glad they did. I finished high school. Graduated with an accounting degree from wits, and got a job at one of the leading accounting firms in South Africa, and this all happened without me dreaming of anything, ever!

I was convinced I had lost my ability to dream, until that same granny with the walking stick, came to me one night , and handed a baby to me in my sleep.
I was so stressed that morning because I had read somewhere that dreaming of babies symbolizes isilwane/ an evil spirit.

Now I was more convinced that the overly-calming granny was a demon because why else would she hand a baby to me?! An evil spirit?!
I was also convinced those people I used to dreams of as a child were abysmal beings as well.

I was so distraught I even went to church that Sunday. A month later I discovered I was pregnant. A part of me suspected this was the baby that I was given in my dream, but another part of me reckoned it was a mere coincidence.
That pregnancy nearly killed me!

There is no specialist we didn’t go to,&they all said the baby was fine, but in the wee hours of each morning, I would feel sharp pains in my belly, as though the baby was eating my insides,or stabbing me with a knife.The pain would go away at sunrise,&start again the night after

After giving up on western medicine, my boyfriend at the time suggested that we see a traditional healer, off which we did. He wasn’t of any help, instead, the pains got more severe to a point where I wanted the baby out of me. I cursed it, even!

I didn’t care if it was going to survive or not, I just wanted it out of me! I threw away all the herbs that the healer had given us, since they amplified the pain.
9 months later, Mpatho was born. I was so relived he was a human baby & not the little monster I thought he was.

His birth will always be monumental to me because that’s where I saw the group of people with red clay-smeared arms, and white clayed faces with my naked eyes. More than 50 of them surrounded the bed I was screaming my lungs out in. They sang that same song from my dreams.

‘’Sesibhabha emoyeni! Sikhwele nezintaba, sabiza nabasemlanjeni, sibuthene sizinyanya!’’ Which translates to; we are floating in the air. We have climbed the mountains, and summoned those in the rivers, we are united as the ancestors.

While the nurses were shouting at me to push, my focus was on the people that sang and clapped hands around me. I knew all of them…somehow.
That granny from the spring, 20 years ago, stepped forward and instructed me to push, and that’s how Mpatho was born.

It wasn’t the nurses that helped me give birth and endure the pain of his massive head tearing me apart, but it was my ancestors.Particularly the granny I later learnt was my great-grandmother.
It all made sense why my granny treated me differently after my collapse by the spring

The healer that resurrected me must’ve told my granny it was her own mother that had overshadowed me as an ancestor. As a young girl, I was always told that I looked like my great-grandmother but I never took it to heart because I hadn’t even seen a picture of her before.

The birth of Mpatho was the beginning of my journey into accepting I was spiritually gifted, and no Sduduzo was to tell me otherwise!
After splitting with Mpatho’s father due to his cheating, I decided to not get back ‘’in the game’’, but to follow through with my gift instead.

I told my sister about my intentions since she was the only one in my family who went for seer-consultations, along with her husband.They referred me to this other prophet in Hammanskraal. They told me that he uses prayer and water to heal and divine, which is what I wanted.

One weekend I organized to meet with this prophet, and my sister was going to accompany me to him. I drove to my sister’s house and we first had lunch together before they could walk me to the Prophet’s house, which wasn’t too far away from my sisters’s house.

During lunch, my brother in-law blew the Prophet’s horn so loud my expectations of him were already sky high. More than anything, I was hoping to make contact with my late grandmother and my great-grandmother. I had a good feeling about my journey. It just felt right!

After our lunch, I left Mpatho to play with his cousins while me,my sister and my brother in-law went to the Prophet’s house. He lived in a blue-painted three roomed shack that had the name “Mo Profete Wa Modimo’’ written in bold letters using black paint on the front.

I figured this was his way of marketing his services.
My brother in-law was the one who knocked on the door, and a dark skinned-tall man with pimples on his face opened the door. My heart beat was suddenly picking up, I was ready to meet the prophet…

The man at the door was surely going to call him out any minute from now.
“Fezile, meet Tshepo, the Prophet.’’ My brother in-law said.
I don’t know what I was expecting, but it definitely wasn’t a 30 year old man,with uncombed hair- &visibly unwashed face in the middle of the day

My jaw definitely dropped, but I had to quickly fake smile and shake his hand. He smiled, and I could see his last night’s supper on his teeth. He didn’t smell so good too. ‘’Maybe we caught him on a bad day’’ I said to myself.

He welcomed us in and proper introductions were given, and then my entourage left the room that I thought was just a lounge, but it turned out this was where the prophet did his consultations.

I think he saw how uncomfortable I was, because he then suggested we just have a conversation, instead of a consultations-just so I could know how he works. I agreed.

We took the plastic chairs outside and sat under the shade of his peach tree.

We first had small-talk, before he started yawning uncontrollably and telling me he had a messages for me.

He told me that he knew he wasn’t how I expected him to be and that I need to let go of my pride and ego, so that my guides and ancestors would not be far from me.

To some extent he was right. I had judged him because of his appearance, perhaps his house too. I really felt bad that.

From there, he started telling my life’s story and the type of ancestors that I have. He had confidence in everything he said, this made trust him a bit.

He said some are water spirits, while some are church people. He went as far as telling me about Mpatho’s birth and how he was a gift from my great grandmother.I knew right there and then, that he was the real makoya! I had never told anyone about what happened in that labor ward

Not even my sister!

He told me I was to undergo some training from him, because my primary/dominating ancestors were church people and that they don’t want me to use muthi.

That I was to work by prayer and water, like him. I believed him because when I was pregnant with Mpatho, those sharp pains I used to feel, became worse when I used the herbs I got from my first traditional healer.

We discussed the cost of the training, which was incredibly low. It was R4000. This shook me because I usually hear stories of how being initiated can cost more than R30 000.

He explained the process to me, & I didn’t object to anything because most of the things he said we would do, had something to do with scripture,God, &praying.
I used that time to ask all the stupid questions you could possibly think of.I didn’t want to be blindsided by anything.

I even asked him why people refer to him by his first name,because a lot of healers are either called gogo or mkhulu. He said he wasn’t like most healers. That he just preferred being called by the name his mother gave him.‘’it’s a powerful name you know,it means Hope.’’ He said.

I asked him about an ancestral ritual that my first traditional healer had instructed for me to do for my ancestors and he also confirmed that this is what my water ancestors wanted. He said this would be a way for me to acknowledge and accept my calling before anything else.

He explained how ancestors work, how prophets and traditional healers work.The sacred places they go to such as,rivers, mountains and caves.  
Tshepo was a well of wisdom,and he had the gift of simplifying everything such that even a child would understand the things he spoke of.

He also mentioned that Mpatho’s father had to leave because my ancestors didn’t approve of him. He said I would only meet my soul mate after completing my initiation, and I believed him.
Her then also briefly told me about his spiritual journey....

and that he used to be a baptized member of the ZCC church.
He said he didn’t go for traditional training because he was a /Ngaka Tshupe/ meaning he didn’t have to thwasa to learn about traditional medicine.That herbs and concoctions were shown to him through dreams and visions.

Before I could leave, another guy came over to the shade. Tshepo introduced us, his name was Daniel and he was far better looking and well put together than Tshepo, the prophet. He was tall, well-built and chiskoped, but there was just something intellectually off about him.

Daniel was Tshepo’s assistant. He would help with cleansings, making fire, fetching water and running errands for Prophet Tshepo.

He joined our conversation and we spoke about God and scripture until the sun threatened to set.

We shared contact details, and I returned to my sister’s place feeling proud of myself for taking the first step into solidifying my relationship with my ancestors. I took Mpatho, and we drove back to Randburg.

Every weekened after that, I would drive up to Hammanskraal for my training and I’d leave Mpatho by his paternal grandmother’s place in Greenside. I did this for over 6 months, and each time I felt like giving up, my Prophet would remind me why I needed to finish this.

I felt like giving up because I stopped dreaming or even feeling a connection with God when praying, but Tshepo told me this was normal. That it is usually the darkest before dawn.

He gave me a list of things to buy and bring for him to pray for and mix for me.

Those things included the teas and coffees used by ZCC- since that’s where his gift was allegedly activated.

We would go to phahla/pray by the river and sometimes go to pray on top of the mountain.

I always preffered going to the river at night to avoid the melting sun. One night when we were by the river, I saw unexplainable things and heard voices too. First it was a glowing big ball of light that resurfaced from the river, then voices of people talking all at once.

Surprisingly enough, the prophet didn’t see, nor hear what I was hearing. From that day, he stopped taking me to the river.
He also instructed me to tell him everything that I go through, or see in dreams so that he’d be sure he was leading me in the right direction.

He said sometimes I might dream of him and that when this happens, I should always tell him about it. I had now started wearing ancestral cloths too, and I was showing off on social media. I was proud of my journey and where it was leading me.

People started asking me about the prophet that was facilitating my initiation and I ended up referring some people to him. Long story short, they all became his initiates. Two of his amathwasane, Refilwe and Masechaba were my followers on instagram. We ended up becoming friends.

Every weekend would become a mini-reunion for us.
Things started drastically changing, conversations about God and scripture were replaced by conversations on sex and witchcraft.

We went from talking about John, the man who got swallowed by the whale because he didn’t want to heed God’s calling, into discussing ways to steam the vagina and how all men are sex beasts.

I started to feel uncomfortable, but my two new friends enjoyed such conversations- so I couldn’t even contest it. By December, Tshepo had more initiates recruited by Refilwe as she is an influencer, whom had even started a YouTube channel about her initiation journey.

I grew weary and kept asking Prophet Tshepo when I was going to finish my initiation because it had been more than 9 months now and I was tired of driving back and fourth with Mpatho.

‘’soon…’’ Tshepo would say.

Things were not the same anymore. There was a lot of gossip among us, and Tshepo and Daniel were ring leaders. He got obsessed about teaching us how to send back spiritual attacks to the people that bewitched us.

I got bored and became unmotivated.

When we went to pray on the mountain, he’d always draw on the ground something that looks like a plus sign, more than an actual cross- and then he would draw a circle and a triangle around it. He’d ask everyone to stand around this sign, to pray while holding hands.

I reckoned it was a holy sign, but I had my doubts.
Fast forward to, January 2019, I no longer drove to Hammanskraal every weekend. I was just praying and fasting on my own, asking God what the hell was wrong with my mentor, because of how he was acting.

I had a bad feeling about him,& I’d get nervous by just thinking of him.I think I feared that he was more of a wizard than a prophet,because what kind of prophet discusses his sexual life with his students? What kind of prophet talks about getting revenge more than righteousness?

One time he even told me he was my soul mate, and that I was going to be shown this by God after my initiation.

SIES! I thought to myself. He’s not even my type. He is dirty and he stinks!

The only reason I tolerated his grossly habits was because he preached about how John the Baptist was said to be dirty & smelly, meanwhile he was one of God’s strongest prophets. He said this was why he only bathes at the river. Apparently, that is what John the Baptist also did.

With all my doubts, I continued to attend the endless cleansings & steaming sessions by his place at least once a month, just to finish what I had started, even though I had stopped seeing progress.

I wasn’t dreaming anymore, i felt incredibly empty inside.

This is the worst feeling, a spiritually gifted person can feel. The disconnection and loneliness was like punishment from my ancestors, but why would they punish me because I was seeking them? Attempting to build a relationship with them?

One weekend, he had prepared blessed tea for me to drink,and said it was going to be my amour against evil,and the people that were supposedly bewitching me. I drank the tea and was got sick the following day.
I felt as though there was a huge lump refusing to go down my throat.

I swallowed a lot of saliva and drank buckets of water but the lump never went away. I tried ignoring it, but then it started restricting my airways and I was struggling to breathe properly. I had no choice but to perform verbal purging.

I got down on my knees by my toilet and shoved my index finger back to my uvula, and I could slowly feel the lump coming up. I was gagging and with tears runny down my face. I had no doubt whatever this was, Tshepo had something to do with it.

I shoved my index together with my middle finger at the back of my throat one last time and all the water I drank came back accompanying the soggy green yolk that I presumed was the lump stuck in my throat.
While still examining the floating green yolk on my toilet,my phone rang.

I stood up and went to answer it. It was prophet Tshepo. He sounded like someone who was being suffocated my smoke, or someone with a blocked nose. He asked what I was doing and for the first time ever, I lied to him.

‘’I’m actually at work.’’ I said to him.

He told me that God had shown him that I only had to go pray on the mountain for 3 more days, and that I would’ve completed my training after that. He even apologized for being distant, saying I had his full attention now.

I don’t know why, but hearing him say that, freaked me out even more…what does he mean I have his full attention now?!

A part of me wanted to go for my 3 last days to officially be a prophetess because everyone on my social media thought I had already graduated.

I used to match my ancestral cloths with all my outfits and a lot of people complimented me for it. My family had also accepted that that I was going to be a healer. Mpatho’s family also knew about. This is why I didn’t want to give up.

Aside from that, Tshepo was pretty convincing too. Maybe it was how would go; ‘’Kreste o re…’’ meaning ‘’Christ says…’’ when prophesying.

I told him I’d have to file for leave at at, before confirming that I was going to attend that 3-day prayer at the mountain. He backed off.

On that same morning after his call, I lit my white candles and prayed as if my life depended on it. Maybe it did, because later that day, a co-worker of mine came by my desk to ask if I was okay because I wasn’t matching my suit with an ancestral cloth that day.

I broke down in front of her, but didn’t tell her anything. She assumed I was emotional because of Mpatho’s grandparents fighting to take him away from me since Mpatho had told them that his mother was living with a faceless man in black robes in the house.

I honestly don’t know why Mpatho would lie about such a thing. I’m still not sure if he really saw that faceless man in black robes, or that’s something his grandparents came up with, in order to get him to move in with them.

My co-worker and I miraculously ended up talking about God and ancestors, she even told me about her new helper who was actually a seer and that she could divine for a person by just looking at their picture.

I thought she was joking so I howled like a hyena!

I jokingly told her to show her helper my Facebook pictures and she did. Later that evening, I got a call from my co-worker telling me that her helper wants to see me. I was nervous, so I told her I’d meet with her helper the next day, in the afternoon.

I prayed before I slept but I had a feeling my prayer was almost powerless. I had a great sense of hopelessness so I woke up and prayed again. I didn’t stop until I had felt deep in my soul, God had heard me. I didn’t get that feeling. Instead, I just felt more empty.

I then decided to light my red candle for spiritual protection, a yellow one for enlightenment and discernment, the white one for light and to amplify the energy of the red and yellow one, then finally- the black one for strength. I prayed some more and wept to my ancestors.

I must’ve fallen asleep on the floor, next to my alter of candles because when I woke, the room was filled with smoke, the red candle had fallen down on my grass mat. I switched the light on, opened the window then made myself a cup of coffee, and waited for sunrise.

Eye bagged and all, I took a shower, and called my co-worker to find out if her helper could see me earlier than we had arranged because I now wanted to visit Mpatho at his grandparent’s home that afternoon. I hadn’t seen him in over 2 weeks- and I felt guilty for this.

She gave the phone to Mam’ Thabede, her helper and I spoke to her. I could hear from the phone that she was a gentle soul. She agreed to see me in the morning. I got in my car and drove to my co-workers house. Mam’ Thabede was busy with dishes when I walked in...

She shook her head when she saw me and said, tell that one to not come inside this house. He’s not welcomed here. I was confused.
“Who are you talking about Mah?” I asked.
She shook her head again, followed a deep sigh.
“You don’t know him?” She asked.

“Who? No I don’t know him!” For some weird reason I was already in tear by the door of my co-worker’s kitchen. Deep down in my gut,I knew this person that Mam’ Thabede was seeing behind me, was the faceless man Mpatho had told his grandparents about. But still,I didn’t know him!!

She then instructed me to not take any step further because this person/ entity would also enter the house. She brought a chair for me and I sat by the door while weeping like the sorrowful Nandi. How and why was this happening to me?!

After a while, I managed calm down, and that’s when she explained to me that she is not a healer, her gift is in seeing things that people can’t see, but she can’t really help in a way that most seers do, but she promised that she’d pray for me.

I guess this is why my co-worker had no problem with her seeing me in her house. She knew Mam’ Thabede was not giving consultation in a conventional/traditional sense. She just told you what she saw, and that was it.

She then took out files about me. Files that i didn’t even know myself. She spoke about all the rituals I had done,& how my ancestors couldn’t spiritually locate me, almost as if I didn’t exist in their eyes. She said that they were looking for me, but they just couldn’t find me.

This obviously came as a shock to me because i thought I was in constant communication with them, meanwhile I had somehow disappeared from their eyes.

She spoke of man that had a mission to kill me and that it should’ve happened long ago when he took me to the river.

I then recounted the night I saw that ball of light that surfaced from the river - but Tshepo couldn’t see it. Mam’ Thabede says my ancestors came through for me and disrupted Tshepo’s intentions for that night, and that’s why he never took me to the river again.

I had my hands on my mouth the entire time she was telling me these things. I knew she was spot on because there was just no way she could know so much about Prophet Tshepo. She then told me he also tried to poison me, but he failed again-

..and that he was now planning on physically killing me himself. That’s why he was having me followed by the faceless man- whom she called the spirit of death, whom my spirit had already been promised to.

“He’s not working alone though, so don’t trust anyone, at all!” She added.

She revealed that he was going to make muti with my body parts, and sacrifice my soul to the spirits he uses to divine.

My entire body was trembling from everything that came out of Mam’ Thabede’s mouth. I felt as though I was going to faint, but I didn’t.

I told her that Prophet Tshepo had called me to tell me about a 3 day prayer at a mountain, and she told me to never speak to that man ever gain!

“when you get home, throw away everything that you took from him!” She shouted at me.

I left my co-worker’s house looking like I had been hit by lighting. My entire body was trembling. My head was pounding,I was extremely thirsty and I felt like I was losing my mind.
I got in my car and wept some more, before calling Mpatho’s grandma to cancel my plans with them.

She was rather pleased i wasn’t coming anymore. I could just hear it in her voice. Before ending the call, she told me Mpatho wanted to talk to me, and handed the phone to him.
“Mama...”
“Yes my boy?..” I responded, while holding back the strong tide I felt brewing in my eyes.

“Gogo said you must dress like her..”
I laughed, because there was no way I was going to start dressing like Mpatho’s grandma. She doesn’t even like me.

“She said you must dress like her, and carry her stick for her.” He continued to say.

My fake giggles ran dry and I got a feeling Mpatho wasn’t talking about her paternal grandma.

“Tell uMakhulu wakho, she must come find me. I really need her right now. Tell her I don’t know what to do anymore- tell her i feel stuck!” I found myself venting off to Mpatho now.

Mpatho just remained quiet.I felt stupid for unloading my burdens onto a 7 year old.
“Mpatho??”
“Mama..”
“Are you still there ?”
“Mama..when are you coming to see me?”
The conversation went back to normal after that. He asked me childish questions until his granny ended the call.

The drive back to my place was a haze. I sat on my bed for over an hour thinking of what my next step was going to be, and then finally I figured it was only right that I informed Refilwe and Masechaba about Tshepo since I was the one that recommended him to them.

Refilwe told me she had stopped going to Tshepo long ago because she found out through another prophet from her church, that Tshepo used a snake by the name of Maliti to perform divinitions and that he had evil plans for her.

I asked her why she didn’t warn me about him, and she said she thought I was Tshepo’s partner in crime since I was the one that referred her to him. I apologized for unknowingly getting in harm’s way, and then told her my story. She believed and forgave me.

I called Masechaba &also told her the terrible news.She was so shocked,I had to keep repeating it to her because she was just finding it hard to process everything I was saying.She told me that Tshepo had told her about a friend of his,whom used an “angel” by the name of Maliti..

She says that he offered to get her one of these angels but she said no, and that was the last time she went to him.

We ended the call on a good note though, she told me she was planning on going to Moria to revive and purify herself again.

After that call, Tshepo called. It’s true what they say about the devil being able to pick up when he’s being spoken about.I felt a type of anger I had never felt before,and immediately blocked his number and Daniel’s number.

I played some gospel music from my phone and prayed.

At night while preparing to read the Bible, my electricity went off. I went to the window to check if everyone’s electricity was gone, and my worst nightmare materialized in front of me. I was the only one without electricity.
I knew this wasn’t a coincidence. I just knew it!

I lit my candles & prayed until I felt some kind of a connection to God.
This made me happy because I hadn’t felt God or my ancestors in a long time.While kneeling down next to my candles & praying,I felt a presence behind me &I prayed even louder,as though my life depended on it

My mind wanted me to open my eyes to look behind me, but my heart told me otherwise. I kept my eyes shut even when I started hearing a rattling sound coming from behind me.
I called on my ancestors by name, begged them to find me and the more I prayed, the more I felt a safe.

The rattling sound behind me didn’t stop, & I also didn’t stop praying. That’s when I heard them again, singing from a distance..
‘’ Sesibhabha emoyeni! Sikhwele nezintaba, sabiza nabasemlanjeni, sibuthene sizinyanya!’’

My heart leaped with joy because I knew they had found me!

I started singing along as I heard them getting closer to me. Even though my eyes were shut, my mind could see them somehow.
“Fezile get up!” My great grandmother said to me, extending her hand to give me her wooden walking stick.

I stood up while my eyes were shut,extended both my hands to reach the stick I was being given. My hands got pins & needles when the stick was finally on my hands.
The rattling sound behind me was still loud,but I chose to ignore it, until something knocked my pots off the stove

I quickly opened my eyes, and there was no stick in my hands. I also couldn’t see whatever it was that knocked both my pots off the stove.

The rattling sounds behind me still persisted. I’ve never felt fear and courage all at the same time like that before!

“You’re not welcomed here! Return to your master!” I shouted.

“You do not own me! Flee from here! Return to your master!” I shouted again, with my back against the rattling sound that was now getting softer by the minute.

I decided to turn around and there I saw, a pitch black serpent almost the size of a python, floating mid air. It had four bat-like wings that didn’t move-and it still managed to float.
I screamed the name of Jehova and ran to the door and then my room was illuminated by light...

It was the same ball of light I had seen from the river, now in my room. The ball of light opened up, and from inside it, came a creature I would not dare to even describe to you. It was frightful, but radiated a peaceful energy.

The four winged snake started burning as the creature from the ball of light stepped outside the light. At some point the room got so bright I couldn’t even see what was happening-and then everything went back to normal.

Both entities were gone from my room, and I was left in the dark, with my four candles as my only source of light.

I fell down on my and knees and some more. I felt connected to God and to my ancestors more than ever! I knew it in my heart I had conquered Tshepo!

The burnt all the teas and ancestral cloths Tshepo had “blessed” for me, and decided to start afresh and buy myself new cloths that I Would phahla for, on my own.

I check in with Mam’ Thabede once in a while just to make sure nothing bad is still following me.

I’ve been dreaming of my ancestors ever since! They’ve rayon’s many other songs too!

Tshepo has tried contacting me using different numbers. This is why I’ve blocked calls from private numbers, and I also don’t answer calls from unsaved numbers anymore

Mam’ Thabede called last week and told me to go to Moria with my friend to get prayed for, and I want to go... but next year.

Mpatho moved back in with me, I asked him about the faceless man, and he told me that the man went back to his Aunty’s house. My sister’s house.

He said that’s where he first saw the faceless man.

Yup! That’s kids for you! They drop bombs at you and then carry on with their lives as if nothing happened. I’ve learned to pay attention to the random things he says, because kids have access to divine knowledge that we don’t.

Please stay in tune with your intuition. Please pay attention to the doubts you have about people, and look deeper into understanding why you have those doubts.

Keep guard of your dreams because some of them are not meant to be shared with anyone!

Stay alert at all times and do not become a “monkey see, monkey do” kind of a person. Do your research. Pray and fast for discernment before seeking help outside.

God and your ancestors will never lead you astray. Lastly, listen to your kids!!😹

The end
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🤗So this is one the longest threads I’ve ever written. Fun fact, this is a 15 Pages story😊. This is also a true story. Thank you so much for reading, now please RT for more people to read. Love and light🕯💡

Yours in threading,
Ike Ntanzi
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