Sorry all, haven't had my camera out for a while, so no photos, but next time, I promise.
I’ve received bits of correspondence, comments, news articles, etc. from some of you with regard to the practice of witchcraft in Cameroon, so thought I’d tell you a little about the experiences I’ve had in the 5 months I’ve been here. As a heads up, this one’s a bit long and not jam-packed with a lot of wit. I apologize in advance if it seems like I’m rambling, but this is a subject I find most interesting. To be more accurate, it’s really just a bunch of self-indulgent hearsay, but that’s the beauty of having my own blog.
One of the regular sites here in Santa is a woman who wanders the streets talking out loud to whoever may be listening. There’s never anyone listening. I realize that’s commonplace just about everywhere, but the difference between this woman and mentally ill people I’ve seen at home in Canada is that this woman’s feet and hands are bound in chains – she has to take small steps to move forward. As an extra measure, there was another chain connecting the chains between her hands and her feet, like an inmate. I couldn’t understand what this was about, so I asked a few locals, who all had the same answer. She had gone mad, so her family placed the chains on her, in order to ensure she doesn’t wander too far away from home. A variation of looking out for the well-being of one’s kin, I suppose.
The other well-known ‘madman’ in Santa is a fellow who, up until a few years ago, was a schoolteacher. Recently, I saw him in the middle of the street, doing somersaults and making the strangest noises. It was such a bizarre sight; I’d have thought he was making a really bad attempt at poking fun at the mentally ill. A few days later, he was walking around town wearing only a shirt (emphasis on the word ‘only’). I’ve been told he lives with his father, and that he ‘went mad’ while he was still employed, which entitles him to compensation for life from the school where he worked, that his father collects on his behalf.
Obviously, these stories could charge up a lot of commentary without my contribution, so I will refrain.
It seems that, in almost all cases, when a person ‘goes mad’, the reason is that someone had a spell cast on them. That is the case for both of the foregoing stories. If there’s no obvious explanation at the outset, then it must be witchcraft. Often, even when there is an obvious explanation, witchcraft still becomes part of the equation. It’s hard not to notice that witchcraft is used only to hurt people, and that any good that comes one’s way is due not to a good spell, but to the grace of God. Yay God, boo witches.
One of my best friends here is a politician with the Santa Council by the name of Sam. One time, in telling me about his kids’ education, Sam explained how his eldest daughter had to leave school because she inadvertently stumbled over a spell that was directed at him. Apparently, someone buried a potion in front of his house, which was supposed do Sam great harm, but his daughter left the house before him and stepped over it. He told me that for the longest time, his daughter was so badly affected that she was unable to speak. She eventually regained her ability to communicate, but her mind was never the same, so she had to quit school.
My pal Sam is a very bright fellow with good business savvy, and a very good reputation with his constituency. He started his story about his daughter with the comment, ‘some Africans still believe in witchcraft.’ By the end of his story, it was apparent he is one of them.
Here’s another one. I was going to save this story to the end of my stay here, as I found it a bit disturbing, but I feel as though I have my feet on the ground and a strong support network of friends here, so I’ll share it with you. My pal Vincent advised me a couple of months ago that there is a women in town who took a shine to me, so she went to a traditional doctor (no one here is called a ‘witch’) to have a spell cast on me so I would fall in love with her and take her back to Canada with me.
Apparently the ‘doctor’ told her to bring him the eyeballs of a cat, and he would create a potion from it. I don’t know if she succeeded in fulfilling the doctor’s requirement, although it will be fine with me if I never find out. Sad to imagine the sacrifice some poor cat might have made.
As you may have guessed, I’ve created a great distance between myself and this woman since I heard this story. Haven’t fallen in love, and that’s ok with me.
Learning about this stuff makes me wish I’d taken up anthropology; I find it so fascinating. What’s more is that, as I’d noted in a previous entry, this place is profoundly religious, and predominantly Christian. I’d never really thought about it before coming here, but I suppose my perception on witchcraft in Africa was that it was common only in remote areas where western influence (particularly in terms of religion, education and medicine) was not so prominent. The surprise to me is that isn’t the case. Belief in witchcraft is ubiquitous to the area. There are several people here who don’t take it so seriously, but I’ve yet to hear anyone outright say that it’s all a bunch of hooey.
I’ve never used the word ‘hooey’ before. I’m not sure how I feel about it.
Who am I kidding? Starting today, it’s my new word!!
Actually, I do have one friend here who thinks witchcraft is a bunch of hooey, although I found his rationale most interesting. He insists that spells will never work on him because he is not a believer. However, he also feels that, if you do think witchcraft works, then the spells will work on you. That’s about as close to a non-believer as I’ve met so far.
Many people here have scars that have been intentionally placed on their body, often on the face, when they were young. Parents will cut their children, and continue re-opening the cut until the scar becomes thick and elevated above the skin, so it remains permanent. The parents believe that this is the way to ward off evil spirits.
I could go on for a while with the stories, but will leave those highlights with you for now.
At this point, I will stand upon my soapbox and pretentiously feign wisdom. I can appreciate if you choose to disregard, dispute, or take offence to the balance of this entry.
At home in Canada, we feel a great distance from witchcraft, voodoo, spells, etc., ‘knowing’ that it is nothing more than unfounded superstition, and our own belief systems have a much deeper and justifiable foundation. However, I do find it difficult not to be intrigued by the mindset within this society. Have no fears, I have not converted, but I find it amazing how witchcraft continues to be ingrained in Cameroonian culture. I certainly won’t try convincing my friend Sam that his daughter was not affected by a curse that inhibited her ability to communicate.
I recall a story in the news in Calgary several years ago, where a Buddhist statue at a local temple started accepting drink offerings (I can’t recall what, but I think it was milk). People would hold a spoonful of milk to the statue’s lips, and the fluid would disappear from the spoon. Easy enough to scoff at, but an admittedly sceptical journalist from the Herald went to test the claim, and found that it really did happen. After a few days, it stopped.
There are all kinds of stories like that one; they can be real whether we want to acknowledge them or not. We also have the habit of choosing to believe only what fits within our own realm of existence, whether we are Hindu, Christian, Atheist, Boogaloo, whatever. Pick a religion or philosophy, and there will be a related story that can’t be explained with our Western rationale.
I don’t see a point in criticizing anyone else for what they choose to believe, since it isn’t really possible to prove any belief system entirely ‘right’ or ‘wrong’ (although many people would argue this point).
That’s the beauty of it, to my mind.
I’ll leave you with this thought: My dear departed mother was one of the most inspirational and giving people I’ve ever known, and she had always attributed who she was to her faith in God and the Catholic religion. Admittedly, I strayed from Catholicism several years ago, but I have to say it’s beyond me how anyone could find criticism in something that inspired someone like my mother to the great accomplishments that she achieved.
That’ll get you atheists going!!!
OK, I’m done. Soapbox aside, back down to earth. Say what you will, I find it nothing less than fascinating to learn of the different ways we find to rationalize what’s happening around us.
As my wise friend Frankie says, ‘you are a beautiful, complex, and tragically flawed human being.’
I’m pretty sure he was specifically thinking of you & me when he said that.
Amen, brother.
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