Resumo de How A Police Officer Was About To Be Sacrificed By A Witch Doctor

On June 17, I received a call from one Mike whom I met last year in Arua where he had gone to visit a herbalist. As an HIV/AIDS activist for 15 years, I got involved with herbalists because some of my patients prefer herbal medicine.

He said I had won an award for working as an HIV/AIDS activist. I was not suspicious about any danger. We met at Shell Mulago from where Mike led me to a dark filthy room within Mulago, a Kampala suburb.

On entering the house, an invisible person welcomed us. Another voice spoke in Kiswahili, ?Asante sana kwa kujja hapa. Tumeiona roho yako iko nzuri? (Thank you for coming. We have seen you have a very clean man with a good heart. You have helped people in Uganda. Today the spirit of Buganda has recognised your efforts with an award of sh50m). A wooden box dropped from the roof and contained both Kenya and Ugandan currencies. I did not count it.

The voices said the Kenyan currency was sh48m and the rest was Ugandan currency in demoninations of sh20,000. I fled leaving behind my car keys, a briefcase with sh400,000, a calculator and textbooks.

After recovering from the shock I returned to the scene. To my surprise, my bag was not there. The voices gave me two conditions if I wanted my bag back.

The first condition was to meet the kabaka in the hills in Mukono or never to mention what had happened. But I broke the latter condition. I went home and told my wife what had happened. She accampnied me back to see Mike.

On seeing her, Mike asked who she was and I replied she was my wife. At this point, the mysterious voices said the award had increased from sh50m to sh100m now that we were two.

Another condition was set to get the sh100m. We had to go Nyanzi hills in Mukono to which we obliged because we wanted to recover our bag. At this point I thought Mike was conning me because I did not think this could involve human sacrifice.

At the hills we were welcomed by talking rocks. One rock instructed us to sit down; another to stand up while others ordered us to kneel down. We were confused.

A guide, the only man we found there, dressed in a bark-cloth led us to a place where we saw something like a corpse wrapped in a pair of white sheets, in a big metallic suitcase and my bag. There was a lot of money in sh10,000-50,000 notes. The voices said it was sh100m and would be mine if I gave them two academic gowns in two days.

We declined the money and they they directed me to go and beat the kabaka?s drums which was a rock.

The rock hangs atop a deep wide trench filled with blood. Failure to drum it would mean falling into the trench. I struggled for four minutes, but failed the exercise.

I was wearing my rosary on so I was a bit strong. I, however, cried for help when the thought of death crossed my mind. My wife helped me out and I managed to push the rock to make the sound.

Some people who got to know my experience say that Buganda rejected me because of my tribe. After that incident, my captors released me saying I was now their member and I was free to take the money once I delivered the gowns. I and my wife left in fear.

People told us we would die in two days.
On our way back, our tyre burst along Bugerere Road, almost killing us.

My bag is still in the hills. I think many people who have disappeared mysteriously cannot be isolated from this experience. I am convinced these are not merely conmen who use witchcraft.

A police officer at CID police headquarters, Kampala who preferred anonymity said Oucha?s case file no. GEF 361/ 2006 had been recorded.

The officer however, said though this was his first time to record a case involving the Nyanzi hills, Oucha?s story is familiar.

?There are many similar cases where some conmen are using witchcraft to rob,? he said.

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