From Superstition to Science: The Truth behind Voodoo Dolls

It all started when I stumbled upon an old wooden box at a local flea market. Its faded paint and worn-out look intrigued me, and I couldn't resist purchasing it, even though I didn't know what was inside. Little did I know that this box would bring unforeseen consequences into my life. When I brought the box home and opened it, I discovered an intricately crafted voodoo doll. Intrigued and slightly unnerved, I began to question the origins and purpose of this mysterious object. Without hesitating, I decided to keep it, as I found its craftsmanship fascinating.

Our main character in this film is a small, eight-year-old girl named Shula. She isn’t originally named Shula. She is unnamed at first, a threat that has suddenly appeared on the horizon and dubbed a witch. No one knows where she came from, who her parents are, and she refuses to speak properly. Surly and serious, the people immediately have decided that she must only be a witch.

The girl, later named Shula, that is the uprooted, by her companions in the camp, is accused of witchcraft by a local woman who, walking from the village well with a bucket of water balanced on her head, encountered Shula in the road and collapsed before her; she claims the child has bewitched her. In August this year Zambia s Human Rights Commission stated that it was deeply concerned at the growing pattern of killing older persons on suspicion of witchcraft , and while the country s Witchcraft Act prohibits anyone from indicating any person as being a wizard or witch , this phenomenon continues today.

Without hesitating, I decided to keep it, as I found its craftsmanship fascinating. Days turned into weeks, and I couldn't help but notice that unusual occurrences were happening around me. Objects would mysteriously fall off shelves, lights would flicker without reason, and strange noises echoed throughout my house in the dead of night.

I Am Not a Witch review – straight-faced satire on Zambian witchcraft casts a spell

Z ambian-born Welsh director Rungano Nyoni has delivered a pulsingly odd and strikingly original debut: a tale of dogma, prejudice and corruption in the country of her birth. It’s a strange witches brew of deadpan farce and arthouse stillness that some will find exasperating, and it’s not without its missteps; but there’s a confidence and clarity of vision that’s hard not to admire, especially for a first feature.

Events open with Shula (Maggie Mulubwa), a shy and inexpressive orphan, being accused by her fellow townspeople of witchcraft: one woman has alleged that she made her trip over while carrying a bucket of water, and a man has backed up her allegation with his own account of the girl chopping of his arm with an axe. (Said arm has miraculously reattached itself by the time he makes this claim.) A gloriously droll police officer indulges these accusations with a mix of apathy and outright disdain, but the will of the people is clear, and Shula is exiled from the town.

Shula falls into the care – though that word is used with a degree of caution – of Mr Banda (Henry BJ Phiri), a venal and desperately inept public official who spies an opportunity to make a fortune from the girl’s supposed gifts. She’s swiftly enrolled into a witch camp, a shabby conurbation on the edge of town whose occupants are, Shula aside, exclusively elderly women. Shula has a white ribbon attached to her back – the other end is attached to a large spool – and is told that if she cuts it she will become a goat. The presence of the ribbon naturally brings to mind Michael Haneke’s The White Ribbon, and there are certainly the same themes of puritanism as seen in that film, albeit expressed in a far less austere manner.

Soon Shula is being put to work, picking criminals from lineups, appearing on talk shows in full witchy get-up, and attempting to summon rain to the dried-up region. Shula does all of this grudgingly, far more sceptical of these superstitious beliefs than the adults around her – although it is notable that the general belief in witchcraft seems to be conditional, and tends to be expressed more vociferously when there’s a benefit to doing so. Many of the witches, for example, are elderly relatives who family members were keen to dispose of, and a tourist industry has built up around the camp.

I Am Not A Witch. Photograph: film company handout

There’s a seam of straight-faced satire running through I Am Not a Witch that curiously brings to mind the naturalistic farce of The Thick of It. Phiri is excellent as the officious Banda, a snake oil salesman frequently upended by his own incompetence, reminiscent of Chabuddy G in People Just Do Nothing or David Brent at his most brazen. Yet Nyoni never lets the comedy overwhelm our outrage at the treatment of Shula, especially when events take a troubling turn towards the film’s conclusion.

For all its charms, there is a languidness to Nyoni’s film that can become aggravating. Scenes that should pass by in moments outstay their welcome, and the film sometimes prioritises aesthetics over clear storytelling, with one of the film’s most crucial moments rendered difficult to understand due to a tricksy camera shot.

Still, there’s more than enough here to mark out Nyoni, whose film has been supported by Cannes’ Cinefondation Residency, as a major talent. In the staid and Eurocentric world of arthouse cinema, she looks set to be a significant new broom.

Satire, humour, eccentricity and clever dialogue evoke a range of emotions. Many scenes are bizarrely entertaining and yet ultimately the film, and the many serious themes it covers hit like a punch in the stomach.

I couldn't shake off the feeling that someone was watching me, lurking somewhere in the shadows. One gloomy evening, as I was starting to question my own sanity, I noticed a note hidden underneath the voodoo doll. The handwriting was barely legible but it read, "Whoever has my voodoo doll, prepare for the consequences." My heart raced as I realized the truth - I had unknowingly become the possessor of someone's powerful and potentially dangerous voodoo doll. Fear gripped me, but I couldn't simply get rid of the doll. I felt connected to its twisted history, both intrigued and terrified by its potential. Determined to uncover the truth, I embarked on a quest to learn about the voodoo doll's origins and its previous owner. Through my research, I discovered that voodoo dolls are powerful tools used in various rituals and ceremonies. They can be used for both positive and negative purposes, depending on the desire of the person manipulating them. It became evident that whoever had created this doll held deep resentment towards someone, and I had become entangled in their feud. As days turned into nights filled with uncertainty, I couldn't shake off the feeling that something ominous was approaching. Strange dreams and unexplained encounters haunted my every thought. The voodoo doll had become a symbol of both dread and fascination in my life. However, I couldn't let fear consume me. I had to confront the darkness head-on, find the original owner, and discover a way to end this haunting curse. With every passing day, my determination and courage grew stronger. Whether through sheer coincidence or divine intervention, I stumbled upon a voodoo priestess who possessed the knowledge I sought. She revealed that the voodoo doll's previous owner had sought revenge upon a rival, using the doll as a vessel to inflict pain and suffering. Now that I had it, the curse had been unintentionally transferred to me. Under the guidance of the voodoo priestess, we performed a complex ritual to remove the curse from my life. As the flickering candlelight danced upon the doll's face, I felt a weight lift from my shoulders, and the sense of foreboding lifted from my home. With the curse lifted, I reclaimed my life and sought solace in knowing that the voodoo doll would no longer harm others. I decided to keep it safe, locked away in a hidden corner of my attic, as a reminder of the power that lies within objects and the importance of understanding the consequences they can bring. In the end, this haunting experience taught me the value of respect for the unknown and the significance of delving into the mysteries of our world. And so, the voodoo doll remains a silent reminder of a tale that weaves its way through the tapestry of my life, forever altered by the discovery of its existence..

Reviews for "A Journey into the Voodoo Doll Subculture: Voodoo Conventions and Gatherings"

1. Emily - 1 star

I was extremely disappointed with "Whoeber has my voodoo doll". The story was confusing and lacked any kind of coherence. The characters were poorly developed and I found it hard to connect with any of them. The dialogue felt forced and unnatural, making it difficult to follow the storyline. Overall, I would not recommend this book to anyone looking for a well-written and engaging read.

2. John - 2 stars

I had high hopes for "Whoeber has my voodoo doll" as I had heard good things about the author. However, I found the plot to be predictable and unoriginal. The writing style was average, lacking any real depth or creativity. Additionally, the pacing of the story was off, with certain parts dragging on while others felt rushed. I was left feeling unsatisfied and underwhelmed by the end of the book.

3. Sarah - 2 stars

I struggled to finish "Whoeber has my voodoo doll" as it failed to capture my interest. The characters lacked depth and the storyline felt disjointed. The author attempted to incorporate humor, but it fell flat and felt forced. The overall execution of the book was underwhelming and did not live up to my expectations. I would not recommend this book to anyone seeking a captivating and well-crafted novel.

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