His Voodoo Magic

11/12/09

"Simphiwe, we must be strategic- we must be smart about this. Last time I tried to get these girls to talk to me- I failed. This old man is verrrry clever. We must be careful."

We arrive at their homestead. Sticks, mud, and stone hold this family together. Two babies wander naked. A young girl in dirty jeans and no top runs up to us- smiling. Not the greeting I was expecting. "This is Bhule." It means beautiful. Behind her stands a tall, lean girl standing in a doorway. She watches with her big brown sad eyes. "And this is Jaboliso." It means happiness. But she is anything but.

Bhule brings us a mat to sit on. We sit. Dumile asks them where they sleep at night. Bhule points to a small one roomed hut. "And where does Mkhulu sleep?" She points to the same one roomed hut. Bhule tells Dumile they share a mat with the old man. She asks them why don't they sleep in the empty hut behind us. She tells her that is where the mother died and they believe it to be cursed. Jaboliso says nothing. She is withdrawn she is scared. Dumile translates as I explain to them that I have asked other students to write me their sad stories. I give them examples of the abuse and the neglect. I hand them pen and paper. "I would like to hear your sad stories." Dumile and I sit and watch the two girls write down their sad stories. Bhule, still smiling, is writing quite a lot, but Jaboliso- she's stuck. Still on the first sentence and it's been ten minutes. Something's not right between these two girls. I could sense it even when we arrived.

Bhule doesn't want to write anymore. "It makes me sad." She wants she and Jaboliso to talk instead. I agree. "But separately." Jabaliso leaves while Bhule talks with us. In Siswati she describes how happy she is at home. In English she says, "I am happy here. I am comfortable." It's now Jaboliso's turn. Bhule goes to get her.
"Something's not right." Dumile whispers to me. "Those words are too big for her vocabulary. The Mkhulu must have put those words in her mouth. He's telling her what to say to people when they ask."

Jaboliso sits next to us, paper in hand. Her paper is full of writing now. She sits and stares at the ground- not making eye contact and hands Dumile her paper. Dumile reads her story. Jaboliso's eyes still focused on the ground. Dumile's eyes widen. She quickly folds the piece of paper and shoves it into my hand.
"Simphiwe, quick. Put this in your bag."
"What's wrong?" I ask.
"She's going to be victimized if we push any further- we must go." As we're getting up to leave Bhule comes running up. Dumile tells Bhule, "Jaboliso is going to walk us to the neighbor's house." The one who feeds them when there is no food. Bhule insists on coming too. "No Bhule. Stay." She tells her.

The three of us walk to the neighbors, Jaboliso walking behind- her eyes following the gravel road. We ask her if we take her somewhere private if she would finish her story- she agrees. We ask her if she wants to leave the homestead- she says yes. Dumile tells me, "Jaboliso spoke of taking care of her dying father. Her father is Mkhulu's son. She wrote about the maggots in his mouth that she would have to wipe away. When he was close to death he asked Mkhulu to take care of Jaboliso. Mkhulu promised he would treat her like his own and give her a good home. She writes that Mkhulu did not do this. She talks about Mkhulu chasing her mother away and leaving her behind. From the neighbors, I have heard that he chased her away because once his son died he tried to get Jaboliso's mother to sleep with him. She refused him and therefore was sent away. Jaboliso goes on to talk about Mkhulu forcing her to fetch water late at night. Her last two sentences she writes how he grabs her hands and forces her to kiss him. And then she writes..."don't trust Bhule."

We hear Bhule yelling and running towards us. "Bhule I told you to stay." Dumile yells. Bhule shakes her head no. The four of us now walk together in silence to visit the neighbor. When we arrive, we ask the two girls to wait at the entrance. I walk past Jaboliso and whisper, "Ngitawubuyala wena sisi." I'm coming back for YOU. Dumile, neighbor, and I huddle together and whisper. We think that maybe the Mkhulu is sleeping with Bhule too. "This is why he asks Jaboliso to fetch water at night." Bhule is straining to lean forward and hear our whispers. "And don't trust that one." The neighbor tells us of Bhule. "I think the Mkhulu is using her as a spy. To tell him if Jaboliso speaks to anyone. She reports everything back to him." I ask the neighbor how she knows what she knows. She points to her neighbor. "Jaboliso confided in that neighbor there. She is part of Lihlombe Lekukhalela- Shoulder To Cry On. These women are trained what to do when they hear stories of abuse." "And what did she do with this story of abuse?" I ask. "Nothing." "WHY!" I exclaim.

The neighbor yells to the two girls to go back home. Once they've gone she leans in and whispers to me.
"Umtsakatsi."
"What?"
Dumile pulls me aside. "Simphiwe, do they have witchcraft in America?"
"Oh you got to be kidding me!"
Neighbor leans in. "Simphiwe, people around here are scared of this Mkhulu. He does witchcraft. You should be careful. You might come home to a snake in your hut, or lightening might strike your hut down. We are afraid to get involved."
"Well you can blame the white girl." I say. "He can do his voodoo magic on me behind bars." Volunteers who have been here for over year- most have never even seen a snake. And there's a lightening rod on my homestead- I'm not worried.

The two women continue to talk in Siswati to each other. Im starring at the ground, making shapes with my feet in the sand. "Simphiwe...here he comes.. Simphiwe. Pretend to talk about food." The two women speak louder now....about food. Dumile and I had made a point to convince Bhule we are only here to find out what the homesteads in the area need. I am a volunteer trying to understand the food situation in this homestead and how many have died. The Mkhulu walks up to us. "Sanibonani." He says. We reply. My hands in my pocket trying desperately not to claw his face off. I grind my teeth hard. Mkhulu goes to shake our hands. Both women laugh and shake mine instead. They are afraid to shake his hand. I'm wondering if it's because of the whole witch rumor. He looks at me, his arm extended. I shake his hand hard. He asks Dumile why we were at his house talking to the children. Dumile tells him our made up story of food. As they talk amongst themselves Mkhulu looks hard at me. He pulls out an old shampoo bottle and sprinkles some sort of soil and herb into his hand. He separates it as he stares at me.

The conversation is over and Dumile and I are free to go.

"Did he buy it?" I ask Dumile.
"I think so."

Our next step is to contact the aunt who stays there sometimes. Dumile is convinced she will open up to us. We need Jaboliso to confide in the authorities. We need to figure out who these authorities are. But we also need to find a home for her. It isn't safe for Jaboliso to be there if Mkhulu knows what we are up to. We need to be careful and we need to be quick. Dumile and I take refuge from the midday sun inside a little shop. I call neighboring PCV who works at Cabrini. Cabrini- an orphanage and school set up by two American nuns. The reception is poor and I have limited airtime so I'm quickly throwing out what I need from this PCV. "I need you to contact the nuns. I need a safe place for one double orphan and possibly a single orphan. Mkhulu might be sexually molesting the children and I'm sure he's positive. Can they help us?" As I'm shouting out acronyms and peace corps jargon a South African walks into the shop. A huge smile on his face he asks for a coke. His upbeat attitude is inappropriate in my world right now. He walks by me. He stops and turns around. "It's you!" He shouts. "The little girl I see walking the streets everyday." I'm trying to listen to PCV on the other end tell me what she needs from me before Cabrini can act. "I see you all over and I tell myself- this girl...she's not just anyone. She's with something..something BIG."

"WHAT!?" I ask.
"Who are you with?"
"Peace Corps."
He says ok and goes to leave. He shouts one last thing to me but I don't hear. I continue my conversation. I feel a hand on my shoulder. He's standing right next to me now. "I said, take care of yourself ok kid?"

PCV talks with the nuns and she thinks they can send someone from Cabrini to talk with Jaboliso during school Monday. Dumile and I have tracked down the aunt and the three of us agree to meet in Manzini and talk. "But we need to talk to the chief Dumile." Dumile tells me we need to talk to him WITHOUT the inner council. "They are corrupt and won't let us talk to him. We have to get at him without them knowing." She calls the sister to the chief who convinces him to meet with us tomorrow morning. "We will tell him EVERYTHING." I say.

I return home. By the heat I know it's noon, but my body tells me it's evening... time to sleep. I pour myself a nice cold bucket bath. I take off my skirt and top. Only in my undies now I step into the bucket. I look up. And there, in my hut...is a large bright green...snake. I run outside, trip and fall to the ground. In the middle of my homestead, in my skimpies, I sit and remember:

"Simphiwe be careful, you might find a snake in your hut or lightening might strike your hut down."