Witchcraft Problem in South Africa

Associated Press/October 30, 1999

Botlokwa, South Africa -- The boy was found at dawn, kneeling outside a house on his road, head down and gnarled fists next to his ears.

A crowd gathered. The boy rose up. He said his grandmother had sent him to the house to bring back the people inside as dead bodies.

That night, a mob of youths burned down the homestead of the grandmother, Johanna Ramalepa, accusing her of being a witch. She escaped -- one of the lucky ones in this remote region of South Africa not to die in the wake of rampant accusations of sorcery.

The arson attack Sept. 20 in this dirt-road village 215 miles north of Johannesburg was one of a rash of witchcraft-related crimes in recent months that has authorities worried. Sharpening the concern is the arrival of spring rains, bearing destructive lightning and charges that witches conjured up the jagged bolts.

Such ideas are not new in this society, where belief in "muti" -- the power of magic -- is strong and traditional healers are a respected and established group. Hundreds of witchcraft accusations are reported every year and police have recorded about 600 killings in Northern Province since 1990.

The violence has declined in the past several years, but not the number of witchcraft reports.

From 506 witchcraft accusations in 1997, the number rose to 676 last year. This year, the accusations total 837 already through September, said Capt. Prince Makgoshing, a police researcher in Pietersburg, the provincial capital.

Several recent cases, including the beating death of an elderly woman, captured public attention and prompted the provincial government to rekindle a campaign of village meetings, rallies, radio messages and appeals to church leaders to speak out.

"I pray to God this violence comes to an end," said Frank Makadikwa, a pastor here for the Assemblies of God church.

It may not for Mrs. Ramalepa's family.

Her brother was stoned to death in 1985 after a witch accusation. After the attack on her home, she fled to Johannesburg, where two of her children live. But her sister, Matsie Masela, 65, remains behind.

Mrs. Masela says she is still confused about what happened last month, but recalls hearing her sister say the grandchild was drunk.

Sitting on the concrete courtyard of her concrete box of a house, Mrs. Masela said people now think she is a witch. The suspicions are fueled by her role as a traditional healer, accusations against her siblings and malicious talk from a nephew.

"How can you not be frightened? They could come and kill us," she said.

The causes of the violence are complicated.

Poverty, ignorance, isolation, deep-rooted traditional beliefs and rebellion against authority under apartheid form the background, said Prof. Thias Kgatla, a University of the North theology professor studying the issue. On such fertile ground, a natural disaster or sudden death is easily blamed on sorcery, and a mob mentality takes over. Charges often result from family feuds, political rivalries or jealousy of a person who seemingly finds inexplicable wealth amid poverty.

Recently, many are blaming a state television soap opera about witches, broadcast in the local Northern Sotho language.

In a broader sense, Kgatla said, the attacks can be seen as another of the violent ways to settle disputes in this society, where rivalries between taxi companies or political parties have claimed thousands of lives. The problem is so severe that five Northern Province villages are filled with nothing but accused witches and their families. The villages are forgotten places, poor even for their impoverished surroundings.

At Helena, a village near here, about 150 people live in tin shacks or cement houses. They have no electricity or phones and only received a communal water pump last year. It is a 7-mile walk to the bus, even farther to the hospital.

Sekhethi Lebogo, 85, said he was accused of being a witch by his wife's lover, beaten by a mob and chased away. Helen Makwiya's mother was accused of witchcraft by the son of a rival wife. A crowd poured gasoline on family members and set them alight, she said. Her mother, sister and aunt died. But at least there is harmony in the village. "We feel for each other because we've got the same problem," Makwiya said.