I DID A RIVER MONEY WEALTH NOT KNOWING THE RESULTS WOULD BE HARSH

I DID A RIVER MONEY WEALTH NOT KNOWING THE RESULTS WOULD BE HARSH

I live in Limpopo, South Africa. Some years ago, I met a man. He was handsome and spoke with a foreign accent. He said he was rich and promised to make me wealthy too. I did not know his ways were dangerous.

He lived a very comfortable and fancy life,ofcos as a normal person who struggled a lot in life it was so easy to fall into the trap.  He promised me wealth and he was determined to deliver. After a long time of thinking about it I finally accepted and we sat up a date where he would pick me up.

He did warn me though that we would be going to a river which was very secrete and I needed to be pure until such a time.

One night, he took me to the river. The water was dark and moving fast. He said the river could make us rich, but it demanded sacrifices. I did not understand, but I obeyed. He gave me a black plastic bag and told me to throw it into the river. I heard wet sounds and quiet screaming inside, but I could not look. “The river takes slowly,” he said, “and it watches everything.”

After that night, I felt different. Money appeared in small ways—coins on the street, gifts from unexpected people—but it was never enough. The man said this was just the beginning. He moved from town to town, performing the same rituals, looking for people desperate for wealth. I realized he was never truly mine. He used me, just as he used others.

The river began to follow me. I could feel its presence even when I was far from it. I heard whispers at night, soft at first, then louder, calling my name, telling me I must return or lose everything. One morning, a neighbor told me she had seen a man throwing a black bag into the river. “He comes often,” she said. “People disappear. Some say the river takes more than it gives.”

Life became terrifying. Dreams were filled with rushing water and screams. Water dripped mysteriously in my house. Muddy footprints appeared in my yard, leading toward the river and disappearing. Money continued to come, but every coin was cold and heavy. Every gift brought misfortune to someone I loved.

Then a child disappeared from the neighborhood. The search found nothing, only a black plastic bag floating down the river. I understood—the river was testing me. It demanded my obedience, my fear, my soul.

One night, I walked to the river at midnight, alone. The water looked darker than ever. Whispers called my name. My body wanted to run, but my mind felt trapped. I realized the man had known all along—the river gives, but it takes far more than anyone can imagine. Wealth, power, even life itself is never free.

I tried to resist, but the river’s pull was too strong. The water rose around me, cold and heavy. I felt invisible hands dragging me in. My screams were swallowed by the river, and I knew that if I did not escape, it would claim me completely. It was not just a river. It was a collector. And I was its prisoner.

Now I live in fear, even far from the river. I hear whispers at night, warning, laughing, calling me back. I know that one day, the river will come for me fully. No charm, no ritual, no wealth can save anyone from it. And the man… the man moves on, seeking the next soul desperate enough to serve the river.