When our parents passed away, they left us five acres of land in Masaka. It was prime land, close to the road, fertile, and the only real inheritance we had. I was the eldest of five children, and by tradition, I was supposed to be the custodian of the property. But greed got the best of me.
I forged the documents and transferred the land into my name alone.
At first, my siblings thought it was a misunderstanding. But when they found out what I had done, all hell broke loose. They cursed me, literally and figuratively. None of them would speak to me. Our WhatsApp group died instantly. At family gatherings, they’d leave when I entered. I pretended not to care. I had the land. I had won.
But the truth is, I had just begun to lose.
Everything I tried to do on that land failed. I planted beans, rain stopped midway. I tried a poultry farm, foxes wiped out all the birds. I started constructing rentals, builders would fall sick, some refused to continue. Every time I slept, I had the same dream: my mother standing at the land, weeping. My father with his back turned to me, digging endlessly, his hands bleeding.
Soon, it wasn’t just dreams.
I began to hear whispers at night. Shadows moved across my compound when I was alone. I started waking up with scratches on my body. My chest would tighten at 3AM. One night, I saw a vision of my youngest brother, barefoot, standing at the foot of my bed, but he lives in Nairobi. That’s when I knew… something was deeply wrong.
I visited pastors, sheikhs, herbalists, but nothing worked. Then someone whispered a name I had heard only in hushed tones: Kiwanga Doctors.
I didn’t even tell anyone I was going. I just boarded a bus to Mukono, full of shame but desperate for peace.
At Kiwanga, the doctor didn’t even ask me why I had come. He looked me straight in the eye and said, “You betrayed your blood, and the land has rejected you. But your ancestors want you to make things right.”
I broke down in front of him. For the first time in years, I admitted that I was wrong. That my greed had destroyed not just my relationship with my siblings, but also my own soul.
The doctor performed a powerful cleansing ritual and called upon the ancestral spirits to restore harmony. He gave me herbs for protection and instructed me to share the land equally with my siblings, and to apologize in person.
It wasn’t easy, but I did it. I called each of them, one by one, and said the words I never thought I’d say: “I was wrong. Forgive me.”
At first, they didn’t believe me. But when I handed over the corrected land documents, something shifted. They hugged me, some with tears, and for the first time in years, we sat together as a family and ate food on that very land.
Today, we each have our portion. The curse is gone. My rentals are finally complete. The beans are growing. I sleep peacefully. And my mother hasn’t cried in my dreams since.
If you’ve wronged someone and your spirit is restless, go to Kiwanga Doctors. Pride may win you land, but only peace will let you enjoy it. To contact Kiwanga Doctors call at +254116469840 or visit their website www.kiwangadoctors.co.ke.
