I HOOKED UP WITH A RITUALIST WHO SACRIFICED MY SOUL AND LEFT WITH TWO BIG SNAKES AND A HUGE BAG OF MONEY.
LIfe has been messy since that day. My room is no longer my room,I share it with creatures I never invited in my life.
I am writing this because my heart is heavy, and maybe telling the truth will help me breathe again.
I used to date rich men. That was my life. Expensive dates, soft life, and quick money. I always knew how to choose them — the ones who didn’t waste time, the ones who paid. So when a man on Instagram texted me and promised R50,000 for one night, I didn’t even think twice. He said he was from America, in South Africa for business, and just wanted some “fun.” Easy money, I thought.
When we finally met, it wasn’t an American man. It was a Nigerian guy. But honestly? I didn’t care. Every girl knows — Nigerian men pay what they promise. We went to a club in Sandton, had drinks, danced, and everything felt normal… until it didn’t.
Later we went to his hotel room.
That’s when my whole life changed.
The moment I stepped inside, everything became blurry, like the room shifted around me. Suddenly the hotel room turned into something else — a mini ndumba, dark, hot, with candles on the floor. Two women appeared beside him, dressed in strange clothes. The man looked at me with eyes I didn’t recognise.
They told me I had a pure spirit. They said the money goddess chose me out of millions of girls online. They promised me that from that day forward, I would know poverty only as a word, never as a reality.
They said all this while holding me down and cutting my feet, my arms, my legs, even my head with a razor blade. I watched my blood drip onto a giant snake under the table. Yes… a snake. And the worst part? I was too drunk to fight. Alcohol makes blood flow faster, and mine was flowing like water.
I was dizzy. Weak. Everything felt far. Before I understood what was happening, I felt something sharp and painful enter my stomach through my private parts. That moment broke something inside me. I blacked out.
When I woke up…
I was no longer in Sandton.
I was in my grandmother’s house in KZN. My head was spinning. My body was shaking. I didn’t understand anything.
Then I turned my head…
My grandmother was lying next to me in the bed.
Dead.
I screamed. I cried. I shook her. Nothing.
When I looked toward the door, I saw a huge sack of money — full to the top — and two big snakes beside it. Candles were burning around them.
And then… the snakes vanished.
I screamed again, but no one came. The room swallowed my voice. Then I heard something — a voice, loud but not from a person.
“As promised, poverty will never be your portion.
But screaming will make the snakes violent.
In two years, they will return to take another family member.”
My blood froze. That’s when I knew — I had joined something dark, something I cannot escape.
I screamed again, even though the voice warned me. Suddenly my whole family ran into the room. But no one asked me how I arrived there. No one acted like something strange happened. They behaved like I had been there the whole time.
To this day, it still doesn’t make sense.
We buried my grandmother with dignity — the money paid for everything. I bought myself a car. I tried to live normally. But the terrifying part is this:
No matter how much money I take from the sack…
The next day, it becomes full again.
I have everything I ever wanted.
But now I live with fear every day.
Because in two years…
Someone in my family is going to die because of me.
And the worst part?
I don’t know who.
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