Witchcraft to the Rescue


The East African Standard (Nairobi)

NEWS
17 December 2007

By Amos Kareithi
Nairobi

The air is pregnant as everybody pushes and jostles for a vantage position. Suddenly the crowd surges forward as an opening is created.

Kassim Omar reaches into a mud hole for secrets of the occult.


Only then is the meticulously dug circular hole revealed and the muddy water in it. Besides it is a soil-caked plastic soda bottle.

Without raising his voice, the man who is the centre of attraction for the over 500 people gestures for the container to be filled.

It is grabbed, as the man dashes inside the house and returns moments later and wordlessly hands it over to the 'master'.

His red designer shirt with a Chinese collar might once have won him notice as a stylish man, but now it can only be used to determine how potent a detergent is by restoring it to its original state.

A thread runs round his head, supporting an assortment of charms that from afar resemble the eyes of fairy tale monsters.

From the chest dangles blackened sheaths and beaded bags containing the secrets of his awesome trade.

Omar and civic aspirant Kupeka wa Tinga go through the paces.

"Nipe panga," the man intones without looking up. He is asking to be handed a machete.

He takes a gourd out of a sheath, dips his index finger into it and proceeds to smear his face with a grey, oily substance.

Issuing a string of instructions, the mud-splattered man kneels before the circular hole as he struggles to retrieve some invisible obstacles.

His robes, once beautiful and fashionable, are now clinging to the body of the wearer who is drenched in sweat and muddy water.

On the ground is an assortment of paraphernalia including beaded chaff and a gourd caked in dried mud.

When he finally stands to his full length, the witchdoctor from Simba Wanga, Kwale, addresses the gathering in a powerful voice: "Wachawi mpo?" (Where are you, witches?)

He is met with deafening silence except for the quavering voice of a child which answers, "Tupoo..." (We are present.)

The voice is snuffed out before it completes the intended response. Nobody laughs. There is a hair-raising silence as the witchdoctor explains, "Waganga na wachawi, zote twategemea nguvu za mwenyezi Mungu. Huyu mheshimwa sasa atapata kiti chake." (Witchdoctors and sorcerers all derive their power from God. This aspirant will now get the seat he seeks.)

This is followed by another query, "Mnao rogwa mko? Mbona mwanyamaza warogi? Najua mko hapa.(You who are bewitched are you there?" Why are the witches silent? I know you are present.)

During the entire episode, the owner of the compound is timidly sitting on the muddy ground, clutching the hand of his wife.

There is kayamba music in the background, to whose rhythm the 'daktari' is humming along with his four apprentices.

When he is finally free from the spell, the owner of the home, Kupeka wa Tinga, a 49-year-old oil driller, reveals a closely guarded secret.

He quit his job in July this year to contest the Maweni civic seat in Kisauni constituency, he reveals, but was terribly disappointed.

"This was not the first time for me to be in politics. Every time I contested the same seat in the past, the results were the same. I lost." He says.

This time around, he decided to seek the powers of the occult to ensure that he wins the seat after being cleared by the Electoral Commission of Kenya on a Kadu Asili ticket.

"I went to consult this renowned witchdoctor. When I informed him about my tribulations, he divined that I had been bewitched by my enemies," the politician recalls.

As he speaks the witchdoctor eggs him on, encouraging him to tell all.

At first he says he was doubtful but after giving the matter considerable thought, and tired of spending sleepless nights with strange creatures walking on his roof at night, he decided to go ahead.

"This morning I brought the witchdoctor to my home. He went through my compound and dug up all over the place. He has unearthed some evil charms, a gourd and a bottle," the man says.

It was this digging that arouses the curiosity of neighbours, who are also Wa Tinga's potential voters, who flock to his home to witness the rare spectacle.

Omar wears a triumphant smile, as he pulls out a green bottle still caked in a lump of dried mud, stands up slowly like a high priest about to perform some occult sacrifice and brandishes the guard.

The witchdoctor gives his name as Khalfani Kassim Omar and he has a certificate issued by the Ministry of Gender, Sports, Culture and Social Services on February 17, 2005 that describes him as a herbalist.

Omar showers praise on his mentors who passed on to him the knowledge he is now sharing with his four apprentices.

"When I came, I discovered that a charm had been buried right at the door of this man. The charm was designed to disable his manhood and thwart his political dreams," he reveals.

At this point he gets metaphysical as he explains that Wa Tinga's wife, 45-year-old Mwanaidi who is a mother of seven, has also been bewitched. Some evil charms containing detritus dug from a grave had been planted in her womb.

"She may look okay from outside but she was rapidly wasting away before I intervened. Now she is healed," Omar says.

Talking about his tribulations, Wa Tinga says: "Kulala silali. Nikajaribu kula piriton, lakini wapi bure! Mapaka na watu weupeweupe wakanijia usiku mlango unagongwa ngo ngo ngo... Kuuliza ni nani hakuna majibu."

(At night I can't sleep even after taking piriton. I am haunted by cats and strange looking white people. My door is knocked but when I answer, there is nobody.)

But now after the witchdoctor' s visit, he is confident that his troubles are over.

"Nashukuru mwenyezi Mungu ametia neema zake vile vitu vimetoka. Naamini sasa vimekwisha." (I praise God for granting me I grace. The evil charms have been removed and I believe it is all over.)

What, we ask the exorcist, is the price of all these elaborate and complex procedures?

"I did not charge him a lot of money. When he came, he told me that he had no money. I asked him to give me Sh2,888. That is all he paid me," says the witchdoctor.

Despite the bravado displayed during the ceremony, the residents of Shimoni and Maweni seem not to have entirely fallen under Omar's spell.

"It is pointless to use witchcraft. I cannot vote for a leader who uses witchcraft to get to power. This is not how to become a leader," said a James Mbindyo.

Mbindyo, 42, says it was the first time he had witnessed a witchdoctor using his powers to advance the interests of a candidate.

"I know that witchcraft exists. I have heard stories about such occult practices but this is the first time for me to see a witchdoctor at work," Mbindyo adds.

The chairman of community policing in Maweni, Abdalla Abdulahami, who witnessed the ceremony was aghast, terming it illegal.

"We have heard cases where suspected witches are lynched. It is dangerous when a public figure does these things in daylight. If something happens later, people may claim he bewitched them," Abdalla says.

Wa Tinga, who quit his Sh70,000 a month job to plunge into politics, says he is now confident of securing the seat and has grand plans for the ward's 16,733 voters.

Maweni ward has only three polling stations, of which the local polling station commands an impressive 8,017.

Even as Wa Tinga enjoys his newfound confidence that Maweni is now his for the taking, legal experts warn that he has already committed a political offence.

The Electoral Commission of Kenya's Coast representative, Joseph Hamisi Dena, says it is illegal for candidates to use witchcraft.

"There is precedence. In 1992, the former Webuye MP, Musikari Kombo was found guilty of practising witchcraft and disqualified. He was banned from contesting for five years," said Dena.

He says once ECK gathers enough evidence, it will automatically bar the candidate from occupying any elective office.

Dena says use of witchcraft by candidates to secure elective posts is not confined to Coast Province, and that politicians in other places do so in secrecy.

"They do it in secret. This is because in some instances, it involves doing some things while stark naked. They would not like being seen naked in public," Dena explains.

Lawyer Joel Obura of Obura and J Advocates says evidence of a candidate having used witchcraft would form a very strong basis for a petition.

Besides, section Seven of the Witchcraft Act treats witchcraft a criminal offence. "It is an offence to bring a person to employ the use of non-natural means to discover the perpetrator of a crime or any other act," it states.

If convicted one is liable to a fine of Sh500 or six months imprisonment. The fine applies to both the candidate and the witchdoctor

"Practice of witchcraft is an electoral offence. If a petition is filed the culprit can be disqualified. It should be brought to the attention of ECK," the lawyer says.

Now that Wa Tinga has made his bed by soliciting the services of a witchdoctor, it appears he must lie on it as he navigates the landmines that lie ahead.


Forward Ever (by any means necessary)!
Karen C. Aboiralor

Se Alafia Ni
The sad thing is they continue to use the word witchdoctor, witchcraft etc, When Christians and Muslims pray why isn't that considered witchcraft. It is religion, that is not western in it's concept, or for that matter Arabic, always the distintion of something that is African or indigenous

Ifaleye

The sad thing is they continue to use the word witchdoctor, witchcraft etc, When Christians and Muslims pray why isn't that considered witchcraft. It is religion, that is not western in it's concept, or for that matter Arabic, always the distintion of something that is African or indigenous---Ifaleye

I the religion of others is always less in value structure of the beholder.

I is even true within religionous demoninations.

Bar none.

Religion is a bitch.

PEACE

Jim Chester