I Became Rich After a Ritual That Still Haunts Me
I never thought I would one day write this, but my heart is heavy. I can’t sleep at night anymore. Every sound feels like a whisper from the people I sacrificed for my wealth. This is my confession.
It all started in 2017 when I lost everything. My business had collapsed, my wife left me, and I was drowning in debts. I was desperate to make money — any way possible. That’s when I met “the man with the ring” in Johannesburg. People said he could change your life overnight, but nobody ever spoke about the price.
He took me to KZN, near the mountains, to meet an old man — a traditional healer known as Baba Mandla. The air around his home felt strange. There were bones hanging on trees, and the smell of burned herbs filled the air.
That night, he said to me,
“You want money, but money has a spirit. You must feed it before it feeds you.”
He gave me a small wooden box and told me to bring something that had my bloodline. I didn’t understand at first — until he explained that the spirit of wealth must come through someone close to me.
I couldn’t do it. But after days of hunger and shame, I gave in.
The ritual happened on a Friday at midnight. I was told to come naked with only a white cloth and a candle. The old man drew strange symbols around a black pot. Inside the pot was a mixture of animal blood, herbs, and something that looked like a human finger.
He cut my left palm and dropped the blood inside the pot. Then he whispered words I didn’t understand, calling names I had never heard before. The air grew thick — and the candle flame turned blue. I swear I saw faces in the smoke.
After that night, things changed fast. My business suddenly grew. Contracts started coming from nowhere. People respected me again. But I couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was wrong.
At night, I would hear footsteps in my house even when I was alone. Sometimes, I’d wake up to see a shadow sitting at the edge of my bed. My phone would ring at exactly 3 a.m., but when I answered, I’d hear nothing except breathing.
The old man told me never to stop feeding the spirit. Every three months, I had to offer something — usually blood. If I failed, it would take something by itself.
Last year, my firstborn son died in his sleep. Before him my grandmother passed away in the same manner. Doctors said it was “natural causes,” but deep down, I knew. The spirit had collected its payment.
Today, I have everything — cars, hous
es, respect. But I would give it all back just to see my son again.
If you are reading this and thinking of doing a ritual for money, please don’t. The world of the spirits doesn’t give anything for free. The price is always higher than what you expect.
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