I CAUSE ACCIDENTS TO COLLECT BODY PARTS FOR MY MONEY RITUAL SNAKE

My story is dark, painful, and shameful — but it is my story, and I am tired of carrying it alone.

For many years, I have been living with a money ritual snake. I accepted it because I was desperate for money, and that single decision destroyed everything I once believed about myself. I became someone I fear. Someone I regret. Someone I no longer recognise in the mirror.

My journey started in the Eastern Cape, where I went to see a healer known for “changing lives overnight.” At that time, I was tired of struggling. I was tired of being broke. I was tired of watching other people succeed while I was drowning in debts and disappointment. When the healer told me he had a ritual snake that could bring instant wealth, I agreed before he even finished speaking. He warned me that once I accepted the snake, I had to follow rules that could never be broken. I thought I was strong enough. I thought I was ready. I was wrong.

Before receiving the snake, I had to complete a cleansing ritual. It was nothing like what I expected. Seven days without water. Seven days without speaking. By the third day, my tongue felt dry like sandpaper. My lips cracked. My body shook. I felt like my spirit was separating from my body. On the fifth day, I saw shadows moving even when the room was empty. I heard footsteps outside the hut though no one was coming. But the worst part was still waiting for me.

I had to eat monkey dung. Not dry. Not old. Fresh — still warm. The healer said the snake only accepts a person who “humbles their spirit.” So I walked through the forests, dizzy and weak, waiting under trees for monkeys to drop fresh dung. Sometimes the wait took hours. Sometimes the dung got cold before I could bring it back, and the healer would send me out again. The day I finally found the right dung, I cried while picking it up. I cried harder while eating it. I told myself it was the last suffering before the wealth came. But I was wrong again. It was only the beginning.

On the seventh night, the healer took me to a hidden river deep in the mountains. The water was muddy, cold, and thick like oil. He told me to remove my clothes and enter the water. I dipped myself seven times. On the last dip, something alive touched my leg. It was cold and heavy. When I came out shivering and crying, the healer wrapped me in a red cloth and whispered, “You are now a very wealthy man.” And for a while, it was true.

Money appeared from nowhere. R10,000 today. R50,000 tomorrow. More the next week. People admired me. They thought I was blessed. They believed I worked hard. But inside my house, the air grew heavy. The walls felt alive. The floors vibrated. The snake hissed loudly whenever it was hungry. It never spoke words, but I felt its commands. I felt its anger. I felt its hunger spreading through the house like smoke.

To keep my family safe, I had to feed it what it demanded — fresh human body parts. I found a quiet road with no cameras and fast-moving cars. On feeding days, I poured oil on the tar and waited. When cars lost control and crashed, I rushed there before anyone else. I never looked at faces. I never asked names. I took what the snake needed and left. Every time I did it, a part of me died.

A few months ago, the snake changed. It stopped accepting body parts from strangers. It became violent. It moved aggressively in the house. It hissed at night. My nightmares grew stronger. Terrified, I returned to the healer. He looked at me with cold eyes and said, “The snake now wants someone from your own blood.” The room went silent. My heart broke. My world collapsed.

I walked out shaking, crying, refusing to accept it. I could live with my own destruction, but not the loss of my child. Now every night, I sleep with fear. Sometimes I feel the snake under my bed. Sometimes I hear whispering in the walls. Sometimes I feel it watching my son. I know time is running out. I know the ritual is closing in on me. I know I opened a door that cannot be closed. But I will never sacrifice my child. I would rather die.

I am sharing this story because someone out there is thinking about visiting a healer for fast wealth. Someone is thinking of taking shortcuts to become rich. Let my confession be your warning. Never seek wealth that requires your soul. Never choose money over life. Never trust rituals that promise fast success. Some wealth comes with a price that you can never pay — not with money, not with blood, not even with your life.