The discovery of Mbathane’s body led to a dark cloud over Msukweni and surrounding villages.

“We need to get the help of an igqirha to chase this evil spirit away” Gamede said to a group of man seeping umqombothi next to a kraal at MamNgwevu’s traditional ceremony. Gamede knew that Mbathane was a close friend of Khange and imagined that this must have been devastating for Khange.

“Gamede! Sometimes if you don’t have anything useful to say its best that you shut it. How many times have we had amagqirha come here only to end up dead? Whose child do you want to die next?” Khange was livid or was it fear or pain?

He added “Madoda, I am afraid. I am really scared right now. I was with Mbathane that night before I went home. We promised each other that we will meet the next day and now this”.

Khange’s head dropped in resignation with his face looking down; other men could not see his tears as they dropped directly from his eyes to the ground in front of him.

“This could’ve been me. The Gomondela could’ve taken us both. My ancestors and Qamata protected me” he said these words and stood up letting the other men know that he was leaving.

It was already dusk when he walked off into the horizon towards his home. 

It seemed like the Gomondela was catching up to lost time. Five more people were killed in the neighbouring villages following Mbathane’s death. All had the hallmarks of being attacked by the Gomondela. They had either wandered off into the night or killed themselves at night. One woman was found dead in her household with a bowl of isophu next to her. She had poisoned herself.  Her children found her the next morning in her rondavel. One young man was found hanging in his rondavel. It seemed like the Gomondela had come back with vengeance as predicted by villagers. MamNgwevu organised a Zionist church, known for having spiritually strong prophets and seers, to have a night vigil at her household in a bid to protect her family and the villagers. It was in the speed of the night when one of the seers who whilst in a trance proclaimed.

“It is here! The Gomondela is here! outside”

“Everybody please stay inside the house, close the door and continue praying” he instructed the congregation.

With those words, a small bottle of isiwasho and a short metal staff adorned in various colourful wools he walked out into the darkness of the night. The praying and worshiping continued inside. Congregants became worried when substantial time had passed without him returning. Members of the congregation went out to look for him. They looked everywhere and could not locate him. They were about to give up when one of the congregants heard a gurgling sound coming from behind the kraal. There he lying on his back and his clothes were torn but no visible bruises. He was forming at the mouth with eyes showing only the white and unable to talk. He had an expression of terror, shock and confusion. A yoke of oxen pulling a wagon was broad to take him to the nearest hospital. He died on the way. It is not clear what happened to him. Villagers postulated that he might have looked the Gomondela in the eye and was overpowered.

This really rattled Khange and he didn’t want to leave his family even when January 1970 came around and it was his time to return to eGoli. He felt that he needed to protect his family. He sent his son, Sikhobongela, back to work with a message that he was to start a bit later. Weeks passed without anything happening until he decided, at his wife’s insistence, to go back to work.

“If anything happens please go to Mgxavu village at Nkosana’s homestead and ask his son to scribe a letter for you to send to me. I will come back as soon as I receive the letter” Khange prepared his wife. They both and their daughters have never gone to school and so could not write.

“Don’t worry, nothing will happen. If anything happens I will definitely get someone to write a letter for me so that I can send to you” Nondima reassured Khange and he left.