Sintu – Continues
As we were gathered in the big nine-roomed house – the only modern house at Kwanoqabaka – Mkhulu Manjingqi cut in to say things that changed my fate.

“There’s no need for you to go back to the city, Sintu.”

“Why not Mkhulu?” I asked, expecting nothing surprising.

“You are to assume leadership of this family and rule over the house of Phalo.”

I saw my uncle standing up, enraged. He left without saying a word. I wasn’t sure why he reacted that way.

“No, Mkhulu,” I said in protest. “I can’t be king. Father wanted Noqabaka to fill his shoes after he was gone.”

It’s true. My father preferred Noqabaka as his successor. That man hated me more than he hated the amaZizi chief, his worst enemy. In his eyes Noqabaka was a better ‘man’ than I could ever be.

In the family meeting, Mkhulu Manjingqi was still on my case begging me to become king. I kept declining.

“On his death bed, your father told us he wanted you to be king,” she said, pointing her index finger at me. “He said he loves you, Sintu. These were his last words.”

“You’re very funny, Mkhulu,” I said, amused. My head couldn’t believe those were my father’s last words although my heart longed for it. “Uncle Gananda is a perfect candidate. He wants this. And I know he has been Regent since father fell ill.”

No-one was convinced, and now my late father’s councillor, Mabhozo, stepped in, charging that uncle was corrupt and didn’t hold the interests of the people at heart. Mabhozo walked slowly towards me and covered my shoulders with a leopard’s skin, a symbol of divine leadership. He also hailed me as ‘King’.

“I don’t want to be king,” I exclaimed and threw the skin on the floor. “Why can’t anyone understand?”

Everyone was shocked by my behaviour except for Noqabaka who displayed a bright smile, thinking she had already won the right to rule.

I left and shut myself in my room. Then, just past midnight, I woke up to Mkhulu Manjingqi and Mabhozo in my room, performing a strange ritual. I was swimming in a swamp of chicken blood. Mkhulu held the chicken high by its throat, with a blood-stained knife in the other hand. Mabhozo was burning impepho straight on to my face. They recited something strange, impossible to understand. My body became numb. Suddenly, I screamed as if I was being possessed by demons. Minutes later, I collapsed into sleep.

The next morning I washed the blood off me. They pretended as if nothing had happened. I left for the city without anyone trying to stop me.

I was only in the city for four days and then it occurred – the magic thing. It was on a Friday night, driving from work. I like working late. I took the quiet Thomson Street. I was driving slowly when I passed a street light with an EFF campaign banner on it. That’s when I saw the tall shadow of a person on the pavement in front of the light. The light was bright enough to let me see a person clearly, yet I didn’t see anyone – just the shadow. Yes, a human-shaped shadow without a human body. I saw it!

I thought it would all go away when I got home. But images of a tall, strange shadow bombarded my mind. I couldn’t shut my eyes and not see the shadow. I thought sleeping pills would do the trick. But my eyes stared tirelessly at the wall. Suddenly, just when my eyes were tired enough to rest, the shadow materialised on my bedroom wall. This time it was trapped inside a ghostly cage. It shouted ‘No way out!’ while frantically shaking the shadowy bars to break free. The shadow vanished with the dim light of a passing car, I think. I wasn’t hallucinating. This I confirmed when it returned, accompanied by countless fellow shadows, horned shadows with red blazing eyes.

“We’re coming for you,” the shadows chorused as they moved from the wall, floating towards me.

I covered my eyes and screamed for help. The shadows laughed an evil laugh. I imagined them stretching their arms and bodies to get me. It was dawn when I reopened my eyes. The shadows were gone.

Throughout the day I was shaking with fear. It seemed better to get out of my apartment or leave the city, to a place where I’d be free from the haunting. But where? Then I realised I had a home. Before I knew it I was already packed and ready to go back to Kwanoqabaka.

My mother was happy when I returned. Mkhulu Manjingqi told everyone that I was back for good. Preparations to make me king began immediately. I am now waiting for the inauguration ceremony, for my praise name.

What happened in the city was pure witchcraft, I tell you.

I hope you didn’t record what I just told you.

 ***

Tell us what you think: Do magic and witchcraft and visions and ghosts exist?