FREE AT LAST

On the 14th of March, I suddenly and quietly, did my last ceremony as a twasa (Sangoma apprentice).Having dedicated 7 years to my apprenticeship, with 3 formal Sangoma teachers, I can say I have learn't a lot.

In the meantime, I am living with a family on the next hill from where I did the last stage (3 years) of my apprenticeship. They, the Cele family, have given me a hut to live in and another for my mutis (medicines) and to through the bones in. The room I lived in when I did my apprenticeship is now my office, as it has electricity, and my fenced off garden is close by. My office houses my computer, and it is where I have started writing again.

Now I am preparing a piece of land, in this same village, as my own home. It has a run-down house, with 4 rooms, on it. There is no electricity, and water can be found across the road at a communal tap. It still needs a toilet and a hut for my ancestors.

My dream for my new home is to establish it as a healing centre for locals and foreigners alike.

My ancestors

This is the second day I work on my book. As I sat here writing earlier on I started experiencing a very empty feeling in my stomach. It can't be hunger, I thought, I'd just eaten something. Then I started to feel giddy and really spaced out. My feet started aching. An uncomfortable feeling over my navel. What was going on? Ah, it came to me that this was the doing of my ancestors. They talk to me, not in audible words or in visions. In fact I find it rather difficult to explain. It is a profound knowing, as if my ancestors are in my head and in my body. It is not a feeling of possession rather a feeling of presence. Sometimes the presence is outside of me in a particular space, as if someone is actually there. These ancestors are not just those from whom I descend. These beings are also relatives and close friends who have passed on. They always guide me when I make herbal preparations. They are the ones who have set me on my path as a healer. I never feel like I'm on my own but often feel alone. It is seldom now that I meet anyone who shares the same experiences. I still suffer with the illness of calling yet; I seem unable to finish my Sangoma training. Mostly, this is due to lack of finance. Ceremonies need large amounts of money. I was once fortunate to have someone sponsor one of my ceremonies. I sometimes wonder if I'll ever graduate. Usually the family of a twasa will assist with the costs involved. I have no such support. The illness of calling is driving me crazy.