Officially, about 40% of the population is Christian, 25% Muslim and the
rest animist. In reality, nearly all of the population has a residue of animism
in them. This basically means a belief that all or most objects have souls
and also that people's ancestors continue to play an important role in their
lives. Homage is to be paid to these ancestors at certain times and they are
to be consulted in the taking of all important decisions. This also means a
belief in spirits and a belief in the power of curandeiros (traditional healers)
feiticeiros (witch doctors) and profetas, who read signs and are the links to
the ancestors.
rest animist. In reality, nearly all of the population has a residue of animism
in them. This basically means a belief that all or most objects have souls
and also that people's ancestors continue to play an important role in their
lives. Homage is to be paid to these ancestors at certain times and they are
to be consulted in the taking of all important decisions. This also means a
belief in spirits and a belief in the power of curandeiros (traditional healers)
feiticeiros (witch doctors) and profetas, who read signs and are the links to
the ancestors.
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| realmozambique.org A personal look at this intriguing country on the Indian Ocean |
| The AK47, with the hoe and the yellow star, pictured as part of the national flag, revives memories of the Marxist part of its recent history. |
| Religions, Customs, Beliefs Spirits everpresent in daily life |
Along the 6-7 kilometers of Maputo beach there is one
stretch that is, at certain times of the week, They come
to carry out baptisms, pray to the ocean, have
exorcisms, etc.
I watched as two women are rolling a third in the
small waves that are lapping the beach and wetting
her thoroughly. They then rolled her up the beach until
covered in sand. They brought her back down to the
water, washed her, and started all over again. There
was a good-humoured atmosphere about it and I
thought, at first, it might be a game but noticing how
they were dressed I saw there was something more
serious going on.
One of the women was wearing a sky-blue white-
fringed smock dotted with stars with a large cross in
white embroidered on its back. Nearby I noticed a
white walking stick stuck in the sand by the edge of
the sea. It had a coloured tassel tied half-way down its
length. Standing beside it, waiting, was a shaven-
headed young man. His attire was a white blue-
fringed smock and a large coloured sash draped over
his right shoulder. The sash, too, flourished a tassel.
The young woman was brought to kneel in front of the
walking stick. Onto her shoulders and head were
vigorously rubbed butter or margarine, clay and sand.
She was then taken out to the young man who, by this
time, was chest high in the water with his arms
outstretched, chanting. He placed his hand on the
young woman’s head, reciting something. He had her
repeat his chant and then plunged her into the water
several times. This whole sequence of events was
repeated several times.
The young man who performed the water part of the
ritual explained to me what was happening. He had
done it often. It worked very well he said, proudly. The
young woman was possessed by the devil. She
would wake up in the middle of the night shrieking.
She could become violent without reason. She had
other strange behaviour he didn't elaborate on. After
this ceremony she would be fine because they were
casting out the evil spirit. It was the devil, he assured
me. Towards the end he also plunged his two women
helpers and the possessed woman’s child, who was
playing on the sand, in the ocean, all done very
energetically.
Lastly, facing out to sea, he unfurled a red cape letting
it blow in the wind. It too had a large white cross
embroidered onto it. He turned and wrapped it around
the possessed woman who was again kneeling in
front of the walking stick. A blue headscarf was fitted
around her head. She beamed and everybody looked
happy.
Surely there was something healthy about all this, I
felt. The vigorous introduction of the possessed
women to elements like water and earth ( the
butter/margarine left me perplexed).The zealous
plunging in the water. The helpful hands that rolled
you, stroked you and took charge of you. The praying
and crying out to the ocean. At the end, the smile of
the previously possessed was deep and angelic. I
tried to banish the thought that, somehow, just
fleetingly, I could see something a little crazy lurking
behind it.
As I looked up and down that particular stretch of
beach I could see several other exorcisms taking
place.
Mozambique seems to be place where lots of spirits
are alive and well.
stretch that is, at certain times of the week, They come
to carry out baptisms, pray to the ocean, have
exorcisms, etc.
I watched as two women are rolling a third in the
small waves that are lapping the beach and wetting
her thoroughly. They then rolled her up the beach until
covered in sand. They brought her back down to the
water, washed her, and started all over again. There
was a good-humoured atmosphere about it and I
thought, at first, it might be a game but noticing how
they were dressed I saw there was something more
serious going on.
One of the women was wearing a sky-blue white-
fringed smock dotted with stars with a large cross in
white embroidered on its back. Nearby I noticed a
white walking stick stuck in the sand by the edge of
the sea. It had a coloured tassel tied half-way down its
length. Standing beside it, waiting, was a shaven-
headed young man. His attire was a white blue-
fringed smock and a large coloured sash draped over
his right shoulder. The sash, too, flourished a tassel.
The young woman was brought to kneel in front of the
walking stick. Onto her shoulders and head were
vigorously rubbed butter or margarine, clay and sand.
She was then taken out to the young man who, by this
time, was chest high in the water with his arms
outstretched, chanting. He placed his hand on the
young woman’s head, reciting something. He had her
repeat his chant and then plunged her into the water
several times. This whole sequence of events was
repeated several times.
The young man who performed the water part of the
ritual explained to me what was happening. He had
done it often. It worked very well he said, proudly. The
young woman was possessed by the devil. She
would wake up in the middle of the night shrieking.
She could become violent without reason. She had
other strange behaviour he didn't elaborate on. After
this ceremony she would be fine because they were
casting out the evil spirit. It was the devil, he assured
me. Towards the end he also plunged his two women
helpers and the possessed woman’s child, who was
playing on the sand, in the ocean, all done very
energetically.
Lastly, facing out to sea, he unfurled a red cape letting
it blow in the wind. It too had a large white cross
embroidered onto it. He turned and wrapped it around
the possessed woman who was again kneeling in
front of the walking stick. A blue headscarf was fitted
around her head. She beamed and everybody looked
happy.
Surely there was something healthy about all this, I
felt. The vigorous introduction of the possessed
women to elements like water and earth ( the
butter/margarine left me perplexed).The zealous
plunging in the water. The helpful hands that rolled
you, stroked you and took charge of you. The praying
and crying out to the ocean. At the end, the smile of
the previously possessed was deep and angelic. I
tried to banish the thought that, somehow, just
fleetingly, I could see something a little crazy lurking
behind it.
As I looked up and down that particular stretch of
beach I could see several other exorcisms taking
place.
Mozambique seems to be place where lots of spirits
are alive and well.
| Getting the bad spirits out! |
South Africa to the south
and Tanzania to the north
plus Zimbabwe, Malawi,
Zambia and Swaziland.
and Tanzania to the north
plus Zimbabwe, Malawi,
Zambia and Swaziland.
Patricia is a 21-year-old educated girl from Beira.
Her mother is a nurse who, when younger, fought in
the war of independence with an AK47 slung over
her shoulder. Her father who died recently, was an
engineer, having been, like many others, sent to train
in Communist Eastern Europe.
Patricia believes that for a pregnant woman to have
sex in the six months before birth is dangerous. The
sperm can lodge around the baby’s head and
suffocate it. She insisted that this was a well-known
fact and her mother has seen white sperm-like liquid
on the heads of babies as they were being born.
She believes that white South Africans kidnap and
kill Mozambican children. They do it for two reasons:
They bring some of the organs to witch doctors who
ask for “fresh meat” as part of the their fee or they
use body parts as bait for deep-sea game fishing.
Her parents though busy building a modern
Mozambique sent two of their three daughters to
participate in traditional puberty rites. Learning how
to cook, to look after a house and how to please a
man in every way. Each day, for example, the lips of
the girls' labia were gently pulled and extended. A
lengthy labia, which can wrap around the penis of a
man, gives extra pleasure.
As James Brown might sat, "It's a man's world".
Her mother is a nurse who, when younger, fought in
the war of independence with an AK47 slung over
her shoulder. Her father who died recently, was an
engineer, having been, like many others, sent to train
in Communist Eastern Europe.
Patricia believes that for a pregnant woman to have
sex in the six months before birth is dangerous. The
sperm can lodge around the baby’s head and
suffocate it. She insisted that this was a well-known
fact and her mother has seen white sperm-like liquid
on the heads of babies as they were being born.
She believes that white South Africans kidnap and
kill Mozambican children. They do it for two reasons:
They bring some of the organs to witch doctors who
ask for “fresh meat” as part of the their fee or they
use body parts as bait for deep-sea game fishing.
Her parents though busy building a modern
Mozambique sent two of their three daughters to
participate in traditional puberty rites. Learning how
to cook, to look after a house and how to please a
man in every way. Each day, for example, the lips of
the girls' labia were gently pulled and extended. A
lengthy labia, which can wrap around the penis of a
man, gives extra pleasure.
As James Brown might sat, "It's a man's world".
From time to time there are stories in the
media concerning the traffic in human
organs here in Mozambique. One might think
that these organs are for transplants for rich
westerners. Not so.
There are stories of children disappearing or
been found killed with their sexual or other
organs missing.
-When it is a matter of sexual organs or
hearts or livers, etc. then it is said that these
organs are being taken to give to
witchdoctors who need them for concocting
their medicines
-When it is a matter of eyes it is for fishermen
who attach them to the top of their nets to
attract the fish.
Manucha is a 24 year-old single mother with a
four year old son who, recently, was sick twice
in rapid succession.
One day a next-door neighbour told her that she
knew what the problem was. The neighbour
explained that the man with whom her mother
lived and who she, Manucha, thought to be her
father was not her real father. Her real father
lived in another town and was upset that he had
not seen Manucha since she was a baby. More
important was that this man’s father, Manucha’
s grandfather, was very upset at not having
seen Manucha grow up. The fact that this
grandfather was dead did not change this fact.
In fact it made it worse. The grandfather had
made it known through a local “curandeiro” or
witchdoctor that he was upset. It was this
unsettled spirit that was responsible for
Manucha's son’s sicknesses.
To calm this unquiet spirit Manucha had to buy
a white chicken and a new razor blade to take to
the witch doctor. The witch doctor slit the throat
of the bird and mixed the blood into a basin of
water. She then mixed some of her own
crushed “magic” plants into the liquid. Manucha
undressed and bathed in the potion, thus
washing herself pure in the eyes of her
grandfather.
Manucha goes to the mosque occasionally and
does not touch pork. She also helps to cook
when there is a special occasion. Does she
believe in the “Curandeiro”? Maybe it’s a money-
making trick? She shrugs her shoulders, “It’s
what you do.”
Since then her son has been sick again and
she has met her real father for the first time.
She did not like him nearly as much, she said,
as her “unreal” one.
At seven on a Sunday morning I saw her
walking in my direction along the beach.
She was clearly from the country as she
seemed dressed in her “visit-to-town”
clothes. Cheap and flimsy the beige
synthetic skirt hung sideways, her slip
showing in places. What had once been an
off-white jacket was buttoned over a t-shirt.
A worn satchel hung on her shoulder. She
was thin to the point of gauntness. She
went to stand on a rock, faced out to the
ocean and began to speak.
I stopped and listened. She spoke quickly
and, it seemed to me, a little aggressively.
She was gazing intently towards the
horizon, concentrated. She was speaking in
Portuguese and not one of the local dialects
so I could catch occasional words. I heard
the words for brothers and sisters, the
names of people, the names of places,
something about making a greater effort…
After ten or fifteen minutes she started back
in the direction she had come. Then she
stooped and began to fill a small plastic
bag with sand. Sure that this was for some
esoteric practice, I spoke. No, the sand was
for helping her to wash better her dishes.
She came to speak to the sea because it
was so big that she could feel the presence
of God there. Could I not? He had brought
me to Mozambique, had he not? To the
ocean she just said what was on her heart,
talked about her problems. Her top front
teeth were missing. She also talked in
church, she said. Not as loud of course.
One of the priests in her church was from
Holland. Wanting to show that she knew
some words of English, she waved her
hand to say goodbye and said, “Good night,
How are you?”
A few minutes later she retraced her steps
to ask if I might have a job for her son who
spoke some English.
Services in the Christian Churches can last so
long that they would drive many non-African
congregations towards the exits long before
the end. Not so in Mozambique; this is partly
because of the colour and vibrancy of the
ceremonies. Lots of singing, dancing,
drumming and exuberance in the aisles. In
brief, participation by the congregation. The
two or so hours pass quickly. On special
occasions, people bring food and picnic in the
grounds of the church or nearby after the
ceremony.
long that they would drive many non-African
congregations towards the exits long before
the end. Not so in Mozambique; this is partly
because of the colour and vibrancy of the
ceremonies. Lots of singing, dancing,
drumming and exuberance in the aisles. In
brief, participation by the congregation. The
two or so hours pass quickly. On special
occasions, people bring food and picnic in the
grounds of the church or nearby after the
ceremony.
| Manucha– Islam and a touch of chicken blood. |
| Speaking to the ocean |
A penitent, a supplicant? Male or
female? Is this person, on the beach
early morning, asking God for a
favour, telling their problems to the
sea or declaiming against evil
spirits? I didn't dare ask.
female? Is this person, on the beach
early morning, asking God for a
favour, telling their problems to the
sea or declaiming against evil
spirits? I didn't dare ask.
| The members of this evangelical church sit in the shade of a tree after their service. It is quite an extraordinary sight to see, early morning, its female members trip down some dirt track, winding between mud, bamboo and thatch huts, impeccably dressed in white-from the bonnets on the heads to the slippers on their feet. Men dress in black suits, white shirt and black tie. Once, attending one of their services, I was invited to take part in their communion. Everybody, once they are old enough to swallow a biscuit, participates. Communion was a sip of cheap Portuguese wine and a tiny aperitif biscuit from the local supermarket. Then we had a fire-and-brimstone sermon warning girls not to be misled into going half-naked to the beach |
| While Hinduism is a minority religion in Mozambique, most Indians living in the country having come from the Muslim North of India, there are some temples in different parts the country, like this one in an isolated area, on a dirt road, 50km south of Maputo. |
| Not the waters of The River Jordan but the waters of the Indian Ocean are a warm alternative |
| After being rolled in the sand, pummeled by hands, lightly struck by the "magic" stick another "possessed" girl (always girls?) is left alone for a moment before the next stage. A forlorn figure, but only temporarily. |
Manuel has a small movable shop, which consists of
a small table and a couple of planks, which operates
on the pavement across from the building in which
he lives. In reality, he lives in a makeshift room on the
roof of the building. He lives there with his wife and a
recently new-born baby.
He is about 30 and comes from a central country
area of Mozambique. He was a most sociable young
man full of fun and laughter. Too much so at times.
He spent a lot of of his money on beer and could
become loud and boisterous but never nasty. The
young men of the neighbourhood would gather
around his shop each day to play cards. There was
always much noise, shouting and laughter and
banging down of cards.
About a year ago Manuel had a stroke. He lost much
of the power in his right arm and leg and could only
speak with difficulty.
This would normally be a case for medical attention
but in Manuel’s case, no. For him, there could only be
one reason for this calamity and it was not medical.
Someone had wanted to do him harm. He would
need a curandeiro or feteicheiro or both to help him
solve the problem.
To argue that there was simply a medical reason for
the problem would seem naïve to many
Mozambicans. They might agree that “yes”, there
might be a medical reason but why should it happen
to Manuel. What about all his friends? Why had it
happened to him and not to one of them? They would
ask me to explain that.
Manuel went to stay with his sister who lives on the
outskirts of Maputo. While there he consulted two
different “feteicheiros” spending around $100 in the
process.
He arrived back month later none the better and was
persuaded to try the hospital. He fled in the middle of
the second night. He said that he didn’t like the
things they stuck in his arm and the way he was
treated. He decided to go back to his home village
where the witchdoctors were more powerful. There
he spent three months but arrived back unchanged.
He is now quite depressed, more by not knowing
why this was done to him than by his medical
condition. He has opened his shop again but none of
his friends have returned to play cards. Not because
he can no longer bang down the winning card with
his right hand but simply because they too feel, as he
does, that he might be in some sinister way, cursed.
The once powerful Catholic and Anglican churches are losing ground to the hundreds of evangelical churches who, well-funded, come from the United States, Brazil, etc. They find Mozambique a fertile hunting ground. These white women lay their tender hands on a child in Pemba, in the north of the country. A huge tent had been erected for a week of evangelising. |
| Eulalia comes from an unusual family. Her grandfather is a “feiticheiro” and her mother is a “curandeiro”, she herself, she says, is inhabited by a demon. A curandeiro can either help or harm a person. For this they need information about the person, better still if they have something that comes from the person, fingernail clippings are ideal. Then they can use spells to do things like make you fall in love, fall out of love. etc. Once I was warned never to leave my underpants drying on the line outside. It was easy for someone to remove the waist elastic and substitute another charmed one. This happened often, according to people. This would leave me in the power of some girl who might have paid a curandeiro to make me fall in love with her. I wished at times that the tall svelte beauty that I sometimes met on my way to work might take this extreme action. I did once get a flirty look but doubt it had anything to do with the elastic in my underpants. They, the curandeiros, can also use incantations, plants, sacrifices etc to achieve their aims. Eulalia claims that her mother caused a car accident in which her ex-boyfriend, who had treated her badly, was injured. However, a curandeiro cannot kill. Eulalia’s grandfather is a feiticheiro. Feiticheiros do only harm. Most people believe they can kill, even at a distance. They have the power to kill just with a look. Literally, a killing look. Eulalia says that her grandfather caused the death of his first wife as he wanted to get rid of her in order to marry his niece. How? He went to his home district and bought the unquiet spirit of a dead man. This spirit, he caused to inhabit his wife’s body and her behaviour changed. Amongst other things, she started to drink heavily and died within the year. Eulalia’s grandfather then married his niece and so that lady is now both aunt and grandmother to Eulalia. She swears her grandfather, like some other feiticheiros, can fly. When I asked her how, she made flapping gestures with her arms. Before I even started to smile I began to think. Don't hundreds of millions of Christians believe in the power to fly physically up to heaven. Compared to this, the nocturnal tripping of a flying grandfather seems like a walk in the park. Eulalia, herself, seems inhabited by a troublesome spirit, a demon she calls it. She drinks heavily at times and can be wildly unpredictable and aggressive. At times she speaks in strange tongues, sometimes with a male voice. She says it is her grandfather speaking through her. She has twice undergone treatment to expel the demon but to no avail. She has several small razor-blade incisions on her skin in various parts of her body this being part of some types of treatment. The demon has lingered on though. |
| Palm Sunday in Maputo |
| Patricia’s Ideas |
Victoria is now a fully initiated Mozambican
member of an evangelical church with its
headquarters in Brazil. Unlike many other
importance of the environment. Many weekends
its members are to be met on Maputo streets
handing out small delicately petalled flowers
snugly fitted into tiny baskets.
To become an initiate it takes some months of
instruction before one receives the light. The light
in this case is not just symbolic but "real". When
the master feels that a would-be pupil is ready to
receive then he can pass the light on through the
tips of the fingers. The pupil feels they can
actually see the passing and then the light is
stored in a spot which seems to be located
somewhere beneath the rib cage. This light
should help the initiated one find their true path
in life.This light costs $100 which is more than
two times the minimum monthly wage in
Mozambique.
Victoria comes originally from a Muslim family.
Her father died recently. He had a string of shops
in a large Northern coastal town. He had nine
wives in his life, all but two still alive, and over
sixty children. He was sixty nine when he died
and his latest “wife” of 20 was pregnant. Victoria
says she only ever knew about half of her half-
brothers and sisters. She says that now there
are a lot of problems as different families
squabble over what they feel should be theirs.
| Dancing in the aisles in the "Church of the Lord" |
| Manuel and the curse |
Victoria showing the two important points of the
body in her religion. The finger tips through
which the light passes and the point where the
light is stored
body in her religion. The finger tips through
which the light passes and the point where the
light is stored
| Human Organs |
| Talking to the Ocean |
| Muslims are much more numerous in the North than in the South of the country. The small mosque in the upper picture in from the central town of Inhambane and dates from the early 19th Century. The lower photo shows the main mosque on Isla de Moçambique in the north of the country. |
| This graveyard is also on Isla de Moçambique and dates from a time when religions were less exclusive. There are both christian and muslim graves here and Hindus also have a small crematorium in the same space. Isla de Moçambique was the first capital of the country and stayed so for several centuries. |
On the surface of things Mozambicans are the most
cheerful and open of people. Meetings are full of big
smiles, happy hugs, elaborate handshakes, much
hand-slapping, touching, caressing, laughing. After a
time in Mozambique, however, it might begin to seem
like an elaborate social game rather than an attempt
to communicate.
When I asked a Mozambican about this, he agreed
that this would be fair enough picture of public social
interchange. Why?
His reply was that it was, probably, a means of
people protecting themselves. "From what?", I asked.
From witches and witchdoctors, he replied. The first
type of prevention is very simple - never say too much
about yourself to people you suspect might be using
witches. If you say little of importance you may be
protected. If a witch does not have information, he or
she will not be able to do his/her work properly. That
is why many Mozambicans do not like to show their
material wealth too openly, speak about happy
occasions or speak about things that are really dear
or important to them. That is why they are reserved
and hide a lot. They do not want to provoke jealousy.
Another manner of protection is to be positive to
people. Mozambicans relax when see that there is no
potential danger to them, e.g. one doesn't want to rob
them, take their job, tell lies about them or steal their
wife. Another manner of protection might be to be
Christian. Believe in God, go to church, pray. This will
keep the witch’s power in check.
It seems quite a lot of hard work.
cheerful and open of people. Meetings are full of big
smiles, happy hugs, elaborate handshakes, much
hand-slapping, touching, caressing, laughing. After a
time in Mozambique, however, it might begin to seem
like an elaborate social game rather than an attempt
to communicate.
When I asked a Mozambican about this, he agreed
that this would be fair enough picture of public social
interchange. Why?
His reply was that it was, probably, a means of
people protecting themselves. "From what?", I asked.
From witches and witchdoctors, he replied. The first
type of prevention is very simple - never say too much
about yourself to people you suspect might be using
witches. If you say little of importance you may be
protected. If a witch does not have information, he or
she will not be able to do his/her work properly. That
is why many Mozambicans do not like to show their
material wealth too openly, speak about happy
occasions or speak about things that are really dear
or important to them. That is why they are reserved
and hide a lot. They do not want to provoke jealousy.
Another manner of protection is to be positive to
people. Mozambicans relax when see that there is no
potential danger to them, e.g. one doesn't want to rob
them, take their job, tell lies about them or steal their
wife. Another manner of protection might be to be
Christian. Believe in God, go to church, pray. This will
keep the witch’s power in check.
It seems quite a lot of hard work.
| Finding the right protection |
| This is the oldest European building in Southern Africa. It vaulted interior and dates from 1522. It faces the sea on Isla de Moçambique. Immediately behind it is the fortress of St Sebastian, one of the oldest in Africa. |
| The Portuguese brought Christianity to Mozambique in the 16th century. This early church has a somewhat forlorn look among the palm trees of the Indian Ocean. |
| In an orphanage outside Maputo an evangelical service, with its music and song, brings a little colour into the lives of the children. |
| Lots of colour and symbolism. Coloured smocks with crosses and stars embroidered on them, sashes, walking sticks with tassels, water, sand, butter, coloured head scarves, Mozambicans love giving ceremonies the pomp and pageant they feel ceremonies deserve. |
| A White Chicken and a New Razor Blade |
| A White Chicken and a New Razor Blade |
| safely |