MIND GAME – KILLING WITCHES AND IT’S NORM
And so we gathered on Friday for a vigil. We were told to stretch out our hands towards the direction we imagined our “village people” to be. Then we started shouting: “holy ghost fire kill all the witches and wizards.” We kept repeating witches die, wizards die, witches die, wizards die, die, die . . . until we lost our voices. (whenever you are asked to do anything next time, always let you me active. At this, no one will play a mind game with you)
After a while, we were told that all the witches and wizards have all died, that the Lord has put them to shame. We were filled with joy. One woman at my back shouted “Pr-a–i-s-e Da Looooorrrrrrd” as though it is okra or Enugu-ezike ogbono with no elastic limit. The crowd cheered and responded . . . a.a.a.a.a.a.a.a.a.a.l.l.e.l.u.i.a.a.a.a.a.!
Later on, we were told to come and give offerings of thanksgiving for being triumphant over the witches.
Then it happened that the next Friday, we were gathered again. They asked us to shout “Holy Ghost fire” seven times to destroy all the witches and wizards in our lives.
Then even without thinking or being conscious that people will hear me, I said, “how many times are we going to kill the witches, were they not dead last week?”
I was surprised how every eye turned to me. “What have I said wrongly?” I asked myself silently. Maybe the way I said it. Maybe they thought I was defending witches. Or maybe they felt I was a witch to have said that.
The next thing I heard from the church public address system was “the witches are right here with us.”
It did not take long, every hand was raised towards my direction. The crowd became eccentric. They kept shouting on top of their voices, “Out! Out!! Out!!! Holy ghost fire! Out of him!”
As they shouted, I was just standing unmoved. I noticed that anytime I looked back opening my eyes wide, the shouting intensified. People were sweating like they ran a marathon. One man was shaking his head and I felt it will soon fall off. Another was speaking in tongues as if his tongue will cut off. They were all behaving like mad people. (can you now see the mind game used here?)
After a while, I could not bear it, I kukuma obeyed the shout and walked out. As I was walking out, everyone was giving way to me as though any contact with me will make them evaporate or turned into a lower animal. They made me look so powerful! I enjoyed the feeling.
When I got outside, I felt a calm breeze. On my way home, I started thinking about how the church will be having testimony and thanksgiving offerings for casting me out. I smiled. Then I got home, went into my bathroom, poured water on my head and the memory of all that happened began to replay.
If I could be tagged a witch and the whole church had to be sweating to cast me out, then anything can be a witch. What this means is that in reality, the main witch is in the mind. This is why even when the witches are said to be dead today, tomorrow one will still have to kill them again. In every prayers, killing of witches is one of the prayer points. Since ones birth till death, the person will keep killing witches with holy ghost fire.
The cycle never ends because the witches in our minds will never die.
You that is reading me, did you not kill witches today during morning prayers? And when you get to office or your shop and you are to pray, will you not also kill the “supposedly” dead witches again? And if you find yourself again praying at night, won’t you still kill more witches?
This is how we pass it on to our children who will then pass it on to their children. Listen to children when they pray, you will understand what I mean.
This mentality is hard to change in the minds of Africans. You know why? Because anytime you talk about it, someone will tell you that you are not spiritual, others will quote out of context how we wrestle not against flesh and blood bla bla bla. Then to make matters worst, any priest or pastor that have not shouted that witches should die in any church program, is often looked at as one who is not “powerful”.
Note: The story was an experience shared by a friend. I just decided to use first person narrative to make the message clearer.
©Fr Kelvin Ugwu MSP