I Fed a Ritual Snake for 15 Years and I’m Finally Telling the Truth

Before I tell my story, I want you to understand one thing: I am not proud of what I did. I am not writing this to brag or to scare anyone. I am writing because guilt has been eating me for years, and I want to free myself from the shadows I have been living in.

My story truly began 15 years ago, at a time when everything in my life was collapsing at once. I wasn’t sleeping. I wasn’t eating properly. Every morning I woke up with a heavy chest because I didn’t know how I was going to survive the day. My debts were piling up, my electricity kept getting cut, and even the people who used to greet me started pretending they didn’t see me. I was tired. I was embarrassed. I was desperate in a way that makes you stop thinking straight. I just wanted one break—just one moment where life didn’t feel like it was trying to bury me alive.

I didn’t wake up one day deciding to visit a sangoma. It happened slowly, after months of people giving me advice I never asked for. One friend told me about an old man in Limpopo who “helps people when life is stuck.” At first, I ignored him. I wasn’t the type to chase spiritual shortcuts. 

But when you’re sinking, you’ll hold on to anything. One afternoon, after another job rejection and another embarrassing message from a creditor, I just snapped. I took a taxi there without even thinking. I remember sitting outside the sangoma’s yard for a long time, asking myself what I was doing. I felt stupid, ashamed, but also strangely hopeful. I told myself, “Let me just hear what he says. Maybe it will help.” And that small decision changed my entire life.

He made me lay on my back with my shirt off. Right next to my left nipple he took something that looks like the old iron, he put it in my chest. It was hot,I screamed and he told me I needed to feel pain for his Muti to work. He said my pain and scream was an invite for the snake to find me.

He literally burnt me,it was so bad that my entire skin on that part was removed. He then poured Muti on it,I was in pain but he didn't seem to care. He was just there to do his job. Then he gave me a 1L bottle with red liquid. He said i should pour the liquid in a glass every morning before eating anything.

I should mix the red liquid with my urine before drinking it every morning. Yes I had to drink my own urine for this. He told me not to put on a Shirt from that day until the next 7 days when I was done drinking the Muti.

He gave me more tasks to do,that is the day the ritual snake entered my life.

People imagine a physical snake. Mine was different. It lived in the spiritual world, but its presence was real. Too real. I could feel it moving around me even when my eyes saw nothing. The sangoma said it would attract money, business, connections, and protection. He was right. Within months, my life changed. Money started coming in ways I couldn’t explain. Deals that used to fail suddenly succeeded. People respected me. Some even feared me.

But every blessing came with hunger.

The snake demanded to be fed, and its hunger came in cycles. At first, the tasks were simple—midnight candles, oils, and strange powders. Then the demands became darker. Sometimes it needed a live animal. Other times, it needed something I do not have the courage to write openly. I will only say this: the kind of hunger it had was not meant for the living world.

I fed it everything it wanted because the money felt good. Life felt easy. People called me lucky. But they had no idea that I was living with something that watched me even when I slept. The people around me just enjoyed my money,they never wondered why so many deaths were happening in my family. 

When I wouldn't feed it what it wanted then it started appearing in my dreams. Every night, I would see its eyes—huge, bright, and hungry. It spoke without speaking, threatening me with things I didn’t want to understand. The night it first touched my leg while I was sleeping is the night I stopped sleeping peacefully forever.

For 15 years, I lived like this. A rich man outside, a prisoner inside. I could never travel freely. I could never stay out late without fear. I could never skip a feeding. The sangoma died years ago, and I had no one to turn to. The snake became my master, and I became its servant.

But everything changed last year when I missed one feeding. I was sick and couldn’t complete the ritual. That was the night everything collapsed. My business fell. My car crashed mysteriously. People who trusted me turned against me without explanation. Every day felt like a punishment.

The snake was angry.

I tried to run away from it. I tried to pray. I tried everything. Nothing worked. My life became a slow death, one day at a time.

Today, I am confessing because I am tired of living like a shadow among people. I want someone to hear me. I want someone to know how darkness enters your life quietly and never leaves the same way it came.

I don’t expect forgiveness. I don’t expect sympathy. I just want my story to be heard.

This is the truth I carried for 15 long years.