I DID A MONEY RITUAL THAT K!LLED MY ENTIRE FAMILY IN A CAR ACCIDENT.
Some years ago I went to Gauteng in hope that I will find a job and feed my family back in the village. I am from Giyani and a father of two beautiful girls by two different women.
My children were my everything even though I had them at a very young age. When I was in high school I was the principal's child so every girl wanted me. That's how I ended up impregnating two different girls at the same time.
My parents were very angry at me for that behaviour. It had not been my first mishap. I once stole my father's car while he and my mother went away to a family funeral for the weekend. I made an excuse not to go and stayed behind.
They used my mother's car so my dad's car was left at home. I called them asking about where they left the keys because I wanted to wash the car for them. They trusted me so they told me where they put the key.
I was in grade 11 back then so I took the keys and drove around the hood just to look cool and earn respect. My dad had showed me how to drive a couple of times just so should there be an emergency I'll be able to drive them to the hospital.
Little did he know that I had grown wings and decided to use his lessons for my bad habits. I crashed my mother's car because it was a Saturday and my friends and I decided to go drinking and driving.
Luckily no one got hurt, but the car was damaged. My parents disowned me when I quit school in matric because there was no way they were going to see me through life while I had no ears to lend them.
That's when I decided to move to Gauteng and nothing was as rosy and easy as I thought it would be. I mingled with the wrong people and I ended up joining the wrong crowd. I went for a money ritual which clearly indicated that blood was part of the sacrifices.
At first, I did not take it seriously. They gave me things to bury, things to burn, and things to bath with at night. They told me that in exchange, my path would open and money would flow. They only warned me: “One day, blood will answer for the wealth you seek.”
Weeks later, things really changed. I got jobs I never even applied for. I suddenly had money in my account. I bought new clothes, I ate well, and I started sending money back home. My family was happy and proud again. For the first time in my life, I felt respected.
But little did I know that the same money was a rope around my own neck.
One Sunday morning, my parents and my two daughters were traveling back from church. They were all in my father's car. A truck lost control and crushed them on the main road. Not a single one of them survived.
When I received the news, I fainted. When I woke up, I was told the truth. My whole bloodline—my mother, father, and my two little girls—were gone in one moment. Four coffins in one funeral.
That same night, I dreamed of the man who gave me the ritual. He stood laughing in the dark, telling me: “We warned you. Blood has answered.”
Since then, I cannot sleep in peace. Every time I close my eyes, I see my daughters calling my name from inside the wrecked car. I see my parents shaking their heads in disappointment.
Yes, I became rich. But what use is wealth when the very people I worked so hard for are no longer alive?
I walk around Gauteng like a ghost. People see me driving fancy cars, wearing nice shoes, and they envy me. They don’t know the price I paid.
If I could turn back time, I would have stayed poor but kept my family alive. Money without love is a curse. And I carry that curse until my last breath.
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