India, although she has the same problems as Africa has-a burgeoning population, religion as well as tribal strife-although India has got an incredibly poor section of her population, as well as an incredibly rich one, she has achieved things that Africa has failed to achieve. Now, I ask myself "Why? Why?" Because India was established by people from Africa, and I don't think, sir, as the Black races about this.
This is a fact that, thousands of years ago, people from Africa laid the foundation of the greatest civilization of India, as well as other countries in Southeast Asia. There is overwhelming archeological evidence of this. But, why is Africa drowning in war, in disease, and in hunger? Why? Many times, sir, I sit in my hut and I cry when I see diseases like AIDS destroying us; when I see senseless wars destroying those countries in Africa which had thrived for thousands of years. Say, Ethiopia is a country that has been free for thousands of years.
Ethiopia was once the school of all of Africa. Nigeria was once a great country with a long tradition of self-government-long, long before the White man came to Africa. But today, all of these countries and many others are being destroyed. Today, sir, there are parts of Africa which have been totally depopulated by war and by the disease called AIDS, a disease which shows every sign of being a man-made disease. I ask myself, "Who or what is destroying Africa, and why?" Because there are tribes in those villages I lived in, who assisted my search for knowledge, before the Second World War and after. But today these tribes no longer exist anymore. They are gone, dispersed, totally exterminated in senseless wars that gain the Black people nothing.
I am in South Africa now. Here I was born, and here I was to die. But I see my country falling apart like a rotting mango. South Africa was once a powerful country. She had a powerful army. She had huge industries, which were producing everything from locomotives to little radios. But today my country has become a drug-sodden, crime-ridden piece of rubbish. Why? A country doesn't get destroyed almost overnight, unless there are definite forces which are determined to obliterate it. I recently saw, sir, the destruction of another country inside South Africa. The country is Lesotho. This country, Lesotho, is inhabited by some of the oldest and the wisest tribes in South Africa. Amongst them is a tribe called the Bakwama. The Bakwama people are so ancient that they actually describe to you a mysterious land of huge pointed mountains, a mysterious land ruled by a great god, who had the head of a human being and the body of the lion. [One immediately thinks of the Sphinx in Egypt.] The Bakwama call this country Ntswama-tfatfi. This land that they name Ntswama-tfatfi means "the land of the Sun-hawk".
The hawk is the bird of prey in Heaven-you know? Now, these Bakwama people did, in South Africa, know about the land of Egypt where they say their ancestors came from. And they call this mysterious land of the gods, "the land of the Sun-hawk, or the Sun-eagle", which is exactly how the Egyptians portrayed their country, sir. They portrayed it as "the land of Hor", the god Horus in Greece. Now, when Princess Diana died, in 1997, I was one of the first Black people to suspect that Princess Diana had been murdered, and I will tell you why this thing happened, sir. Because, about a year or 8 months before Diana died, there died a king in Lesotho, King Moshoeshoe II. King Moshoeshoe II's death was detail-for-detail identical to Princess Diana's death. Consider this please, all of you who might find my words incredible: Princess Diana died in a tunnel, but the king of Lesotho died in a ravine. He had gone far away to investigate a problem in his cattle ranch. It was found that he was overdue, and when the people went to search for him, they heard from various boys who were looking after the cattle in the Basotho-land mountains, that the boys had heard what sounded like a rifle shot, and when the men went to look where the rifle shot had sounded, they found the king's car off the road and deep in the ravine. They went down their and they found that the king of Lesotho was in his car. He was strapped in a safety belt, but he had a terrible injury at the back of his head. And they found that the king's driver was dead at the steering wheel. But, the two men who were the king's bodyguards, who were riding in the king's vehicle in the seat directly behind the king, had escaped without a scratch.
One of the men entered the car and pulled out the dying king. The king apologized to them for messing-up their hands with his blood, which was a tradition, that a dying king must thank the people who are trying to get him out of where he is. And he must apologize to them for putting them into trouble, because anyone who handles the sacred blood of the king is in spiritual trouble of some kind after that. Then, when the king's car was brought out of the ravine, it was found that there was a hole, like a bullet hole, in one of the tires of the car. And that car's tire was mysteriously removed, afterwards, when the king's car was stored not in a safe place, but in a yard outside where anybody could get at it. And, when an autopsy was conducted on the body of the driver of the king's car, it was found that the man had been so drunk as to not have been able to drive the car at all.
And third, the man who had driven the king's car and who died at the wheel had not been the man who usually drives the king's car. Now, sir, do you see this mystery now? The death of the Lesotho king matched that of Princess Diana, which was to follow it. In many other amazing details than I have detailed now, and so the nation of Lesotho was reduced to a retch after the king's death, when rioting took place as a result of a general election which provisional party members prospected and controlled. Today Lesotho is an economically moribund nation. And Lesotho is a country which was the place of a strange experiment-an experiment which consisted of the building of a huge dam, whose purpose was to supply South Africa, and not Lesotho, with large quantities of water.
And we have recently heard ugly rumors emanating from that country, that somebody was bribed to facilitate the building of this huge dam where the water of a small nation is being used to supply, to supplement the water supplies of a highly industrialized nation. There are many strange things, sir, which have taken place in South Africa, and are taking place, as well as in other parts of Africa, which make no sense to me as an African. There are wars which take place in Africa, where after an African country has gained its independence from the colonial power, then a force of rebels pick up weapons against that country's government, but instead of the rebels fighting the government to the bitter end, what happens again and again is that the rebel forces split into various groups which end up fighting not only the government in power, but also each other. And the result is that, in several African countries, the country is so destroyed that, no matter which party wins, the people lose. The United Nations are caused to be called in, in order to create some semblance of peace. In other words, Africans have now started fighting wars which bring about not victory, but the destruction of themselves, as well as their people.
I would like to draw your attention, sir, to the senseless tide which is still raging in the Sudan, as well as other parts of Africa. I would like to draw your attention, sir, to the longest and most terrible civil war which is destroying the southern parts of the Sudan. I would like to draw your attention, and that of your readers, sir, to the terrible war which is destroying Angola. And one part of the world, to the East of Southern Africa, has been so raped by many years of war that there are now places where you don't even hear a bird-thing. All living forms of life have been wiped-out in that place. Now, why? And then, I have found that these countries that are being destroyed by senseless wars which are totally out of character for us Africans, and I speak as an African, are those countries which, had they been left alone, could have supplied the whole of Africa with food, with water, and with valuable minerals.
I am told, sir, that under the surface of Angola, under the plains of Angola, are deposits of coal which are without equal in this world. I am further told that in parts of Angola there are deposits of oil which are second only to those reserves of oil which are in the Middle East. The Sudan is a country which I visited several times during, and even after, the Second World War. In the Sudan there was so much food that you received free food from the villagers, as you traveled through the Sudan. Today, southern Sudan is a starvation-torn, battle of rage hellhole where children die of diarrhea in the bush while the vultures and buzzards wait on the branches of trees to feast. Africa is being systematically and deliberately destroyed by a power of such relentlessness that it is continuing the destruction even now. But, this power is getting desperate.
Martin: Excuse me. Did you say there was coal in Angola or gold?
Credo Mutwa: Coal, sir, coal. There are diamonds in Angola, sir.
And I have learned from reliable people that there is more oil under Angola, in certain places, than there is in certain parts of the Middle East. Is this what Africa is being destroyed for? Is this what our nations are being slaughtered for-for coal under the surface, for diamonds? If so, who is this intelligence that is behind this? Are people less valuable than minerals? Are people less valuable than oil? Because, sir, genocide, worse than anything that Hitler ever committed upon the Jewish people, is taking place in Africa NOW, and the people of America don't seem to care a damn. Why? We are the best friends that the United States has got. We are the best people. We buy American products. Our children want to look like American children. Our kids wear jeans, sir, and they even speak with American accents, because you American people are our role model. Why are you allowing us to be slaughtered? Why? Why?
Not only are we being killed by war, sir, we are being killed by drugs. There were no drugs in South Africa during the days of the apartheid government. Now, under our democratic government, our country has become one drug-sodden cess pit. Why? Today, sir, and I speak as a traditional shaman, one of my purposes is to try and help people with a drug problem. Sir, I can help a young African who is abusing marijuana or hashish. I can help a young African who is dependent upon Dakwa. But, sir, I am useless, my skills are rubbish and I fail again-and so do many like me-to help young Black people who are addicted to a new type of drug which is called "crack". It is a hard-looking drug. It's like hardened chocolate when you see it, and this thing is so addictive that no shaman can help a young victim of this drug.
I am asking the people of the United States of America, I am asking my Black brothers and my Black sisters over there, why are you allowing the country which is your mother to be exterminated? I don't care what skeptics say, sir. Please forgive me when I really get hot under the collar. I don't care what skeptics say, but there IS a force destroying Africa and I am not buying the nonsense that it is the bankers of the IMF and other big banks. You don't kill the goose that gives you the golden egg, so why would the bankers want to destroy Africa? There is another force behind these people, a terrible, alien force, which does things behind the scenes which-and the sooner we recognize this, the better-sir, it is very common for human beings who are in trouble to blame forces other than those inside themselves. But, I have studied the situation in Africa since the end of the Second World War, and before, and I have evidence that points to an alien force at work in Africa. What, who is wiping out Africa's oldest tribes? Please, sir, let me tell you a thing that cuts my soul. May I please?
Martin: Please, continue.
Credo Mutwa: Please, I'm sorry to talk so much. Please forgive me. I belong to the Zulu nation, a nation of warriors, a nation of wise people. My people, sir, have never been studied by White anthropologists thoroughly, but the Zulu people knew things that, if I were to share with your readers, they would be amazed. Let me show you this. The Zulu people KNEW, amongst many things, that it is the Earth which moves around the Sun, and not the other way around. They said, to explain this thing to the initiated, that the Earth is a feminine creature and the Sun is a male creature, and, therefore, the Earth is the mobile one who dances around the Sun-the beautiful princess who dances around the fiery king who is the Sun.
Our people knew that the Earth was a sphere. Our people knew about germs and their function. When the White man came to Africa, where did this incredible knowledge come from? I do not know. The people of America and the people of Europe say that it was Albert Einstein who came out with the idea that time and space are one and the same thing. My answer to that is, "No!" My people, the Zulus, knew that space and time was one thing. In the language of the Zulu, one of the names for space is umkati. And the Zulu name for time is isikati.
Now, our people knew that space and time were one and the same thing, hundreds of years before Einstein's birth. And furthermore, our people believed, like the Dogon people, that there are 24 planets in our part of space which are inhabited by intelligent creatures of various states. And, this knowledge has never been recorded in any book, and I and my aunt are the only surviving high sanusi [shaman] in South Africa who are the keepers of this knowledge. My aunt is still alive. She is about 90-something years old, and I am now close to dead, suffering from diabetes-a terrible killer of African people nowadays.
And, what I am trying to tell you is that, although my people had this tremendous knowledge, which has never been written down in any book, the Zulu people today, a huge percentage of them, are victims of HIV or outright AIDS. And it has been calculated, sir, in the next 50 years, fully three-fourths of the Zulu people in Natal are going to die. And I am the keeper of sacred objects which I inherited from my grandfather. I am, from my mother's side, a direct descendant of the last true Zulu king, Dingame. And, my duty should be to protect my people from anything that threatens their existence. Look, please, sir. Anyone who studies humanity with love, with understanding, and with care, recognizes the fact that there is a shining God which is struggling to be born within each and every one of us. We are trying to fight back, although many of us are not yet aware of this. We are developing an attitude of wanting to protect our planet, no matter who or what we are.
There are chiefs in Africa who fine you very heavily if they see you destroying a tree unnecessarily. This thing was common in the past, but it disappeared with the coming of the White people; but now it has come back again. Man is becoming, is struggling to become a more advanced, more caring being, and the aliens are not going to take this lying down. They are going to cause us to kill each other, again. And I am worried about what is going to happen. Sir, I can show you many strange things that African people did to protect themselves against the Grey aliens. The things that our people did were not the result of superstition. They were the result of terrible personal experience. One day I hope to share with you, sir, the story of how I got "taken", we say. We believe, sir, that the Mantindane ("the tormentor"), the Greys, are really servants of the Chitauli. And that they, contrary to what White people think-White people think a wrong thing, sir, many-that the Mantindane are experimenting with us. They are NOT. I repeat, they are not. Anyone who has been through the hells of these beings will tell you that there is nothing experimental in what they do. There is a cold, cold, cold-blooded resolve, and they are not doing what they do to us for themselves, they are doing what they do to us for greater creatures than they are. Please, sir, can you give me a little time to share with you, briefly, what happened to me?
Martin: Oh yes, absolutely, please. We have all the time you need.
Credo Mutwa: Sir, it was an ordinary day, like any other day. It was a beautiful day in the eastern mountains of Zimbabwe, which are called Inyangani. These are mountains to the East of Zimbabwe. Now, I had been instructed by my teacher to go and find a special herb which we were going to use in the healing of a certain initiate who was badly ill. And my teacher, a woman called Mrs. Moyo, was Ndebele, from Zimbabwe, once known as Rhodesia. I was looking for this herb, and I was not thinking about anything, and I had no belief whatsoever in these creatures. I had never encountered them before, and although we African people believe in many things, I was mighty skeptical, even about certain entities that we believed in at that time, because I had never encountered anything like that before. And all of a sudden, sir, I noticed that the temperature around me had dropped, although it was a very hot African day. I suddenly noticed that it was now cold and there was, what appeared to be, a bright blue mist swirling all around me, getting between me and the eastern landscape. I remember wondering, stupidly, what this thing meant, because I had just begun to dig one of the herbs I had found. Suddenly, I found myself in a very strange place, a place that looked like a tunnel lined with metal. I had worked in mines before, and where I found myself appeared to be a mine tunnel which was lined with silver-greyish metal.
I was lying on what appeared to be a very heavy and very large working bench or a working table, sir. But yet, I was not chained to the table. I was just lying there and my trousers were missing, and so were the heavy boots that I always wore when I was out in the bush. And all of a sudden, in this strange, tunnel-like room, I saw what appeared to be dull, heady-looking, grey, dull-like creatures which were moving toward me. There were lights in this place, but not lights as we know them. They seemed to be patches of glowing stuff. And there was something above the far entrance which looked like writing, that writing against the silver-grey surface, and these creatures were coming at me but I was hypnotized, just as if the witchcraft had been put upon my head. But I watched the creatures as they were coming towards me. I didn't know what they were. I was frightened, but I couldn't move my arms or my legs.
I just lay there like a goat on a sacrificial altar. And when the creatures came towards me, I felt fear inside me. They were short creatures, about the size of African Pigmy. They have very large heads, very thin arms, and very thin legs. I noticed, sir, because I am an artist, a painter, that these creatures were built all wrong from an artist's point of view. Their limbs were too long for their body, and their necks were very thin, and their heads were almost as large as full-grown watermelons. They had strange eyes, which looked like goggles of some kind. They had no noses, as we have, only small holes on either side of the raised area between their eyes.
Their mouth had no lips, only thin cuts as if made by a razor. And while I was looking at these creatures, sir, in amazed fascination, I felt something close to my head, about my head. And when I looked up, there was another creature, a slightly bigger one than the other, and it was standing above my head and was looking down at me. I looked up into its eyes and I was totally hypnotized, and you know, I was spellbound. I looked into the thing's eyes and I noticed that the creature wanted me to keep looking into his eyes. I looked and saw that, through these covers over their eyes, I could see the creature's real eyes behind this black, goggle-like cover. It's eyes were round, with straight pupils, like those of a cat. And the thing was not moving it's head. It was breathing; I could see that. I could see little nostrils moving, closing and shutting, but sir, if anybody says to me that I smelled like that creature, really, I would konk him one on the face.
Martin:(Laughter)
Credo Mutwa: The creature smelled like nobody's business. It had a strange smell, a throat-tightening, chemical smell, which smelled like rotten eggs, and also like hot copper [sulfur], a very strong smell. And the creature saw me looking at it, and it looked down at me and, all of a sudden, I felt a terrible, awful pain on my left thigh, as if a sword had been driven into my left thigh. I screamed in pain, horrible, calling out for my mother, and the creature placed it's hand over my mouth. You know, sir, it was like-if you want to know how that felt, please sir, take the leg of a chicken, a live chicken, and place it against your lips. That was how the creature's hand felt upon my mouth. It had thin, long fingers, which had more joints than my human fingers have. And the thumb was in the wrong place.
Each one of the fingers ended in a black claw, almost like certain African birds. The thing was telling me to be quiet. And how long the pain went on, sir, I don't know. I screamed and I screamed and I screamed, again. And then, all of a sudden, something was pulled out of my flesh, and I looked down and saw my thigh covered with blood, and I saw that one of the creatures-there were four of them, other than the one standing over my head-they wore tight fitting overalls, which were silvery-grey in color, and their flesh resembled the flesh of certain types of fish that we find in the sea off South Africa.
And the creature standing above my head appeared to be a female. It was somehow different than the others. It was taller, bigger, although it didn't have breasts like a woman, it appeared to be feminine. And the others appeared to be afraid of it, I don't know how I can describe this. And then, while this terrible thing was going on, another of the creatures came up to me-it walked sideways, in a slightly jerking way, as if it was drunk-it walked up along the table, to my right side, and it stood next to the one standing above my head. And before I knew what was happening, this creature stuck something that was like a small, silver, ball-point pen with a cable at one end, it pushed this thing, coldly, into my right nostril. Sir, the pain was out of this world. Blood splattered all over.
I choked and tried to scream, but the blood got into my throat. It was a nightmare. Then, it pulled the thing out and I tried to fight and sit up. The pain was terrible, but the other thing above my head placed it's hand upon my forehead and kept me down with very little force. I was choking and trying to spit out the blood, and then I managed to turn my head to the right to spit out the blood, which I did, and then what the creatures did to me, sir, I don't know. All I do know is that the pain went away, and in place of the pain, strange visions flooded my head, visions of cities, some of which I recognized from my travels-but, cities which were half-destroyed, the buildings having their tops blown away, with windows like empty eye-sockets in a human skull. I saw these visions again and again.
All the buildings that I saw were half-drowned in a reddish, muddish water. It was as if there had been a flood and the buildings were sticking up out of this great flood, partly destroyed by a disaster of some kind, and it was a terrible sight. And then, before I knew it, one of the creatures, the one standing next to my feet, drove something into my organ of manhood, but here there was no pain, just a violent irritation, as if I was making love to something or someone. And then, when the creature withdrew the thing, which was like a small, black tube which it had forced into my organ of manhood, I did something which produced a strange result, and I did not do it intentionally. I think it was-my bladder opened, and I urinated straight into the chest of the creature which had pulled the thing out of my organ. And if I had shot the creature, it would never have reacted as it did. It jerked away and nearly fell, and then it recovered and staggered away like a drunken insect, and left the room. I don't know whether my urine did it; I don't know. But that is what happened. Then, after a while, the other creatures went away, leaving me with a dull pain in my nostril, with blood on my thigh, and the table wet with urine. And the thing standing above my head had not moved. It just stood there with it's right hand touching it's left shoulder, in a strangely beautiful and feminine way. It stood there looking at me.
There was no expression in its face. I never saw any of the creatures talk or make any sound of any kind. All I do know is that they appeared to be mute. And then, out of somewhere there arrived two other creatures, one of which was made entirely out of metal. Even in my worst nightmares, I still see this creature. It was tall. It was big. And the area in which we were was too small for it. It walked with a slight stoop, moving forward, and it was definitely not a living thing. It was a metal creature, a robot of some kind. And it came and it stood near my feet, its whole body clumsily bent, looking down at me. There was no mouth. There was no nose. There were just two bright eyes, which seemed to change color, and seemed to move somehow, like the crackling of an electrical device. And then, behind this huge, bent creature, came a creature which surprised me. It was very, very, very, very swollen, sir, in appearance. It had pink skin.
It had a blondish, very human body. It had very bright, blue, slanting eyes. It had hair which looked like nylon fiber of some kind. It had high cheek-bones and an almost human mouth, with full lips and a small, pointed chin. The creature, sir, was definitely a female but like an artist and a painter, which I am, and also a sculptor, I noticed that the creature was totally out of proportion. It was wrong. First, its breasts were thin and pointed, and set too high upon its chest, not where a normal woman's breasts would be. Its body was powerful, almost fat, but its legs were too short and its arms were too short in proportion to the rest of its body. And it came towards me, looked down at me, and before I knew what it was doing, somehow it mated with me. It was a horrible experience, sir, even worse than what had been done to me before.
But even now, the trauma of that day had affected my life even now, exactly 40 years later. And after that, when the creatures had gone, leaving only the one creature which had been standing about my head, the creature standing about my head shook me by the hair, it gripped me by the head and forced me to stand off the table and to get off the table. I did that, and such was the state that I was in, that I fell onto my knees and hands, onto the floor. And I noticed that that floor was strange. It had moving patterns in it, which kept on changing and shifting-purple, red, and greenish patterns, on a metal-grey background. And the creature pulled me by the hair, again, forcing me to stand up, and it pushed me roughly and made me follow it. Sir, it would take too long for me to describe what I saw in that strange place, as the creature pushed me, roughly, from room to room.
Even now my mind can't grasp what it was that I saw. Amongst many things that I saw were huge cylindrical objects, made of what appeared to be glass of some kind. And in these object, cylinders, which reached from the roof to the floor of the place we were going through, was what appeared to be a sort-of a greyish-pink liquid. And in this liquid I saw small editions of the alien creatures floating round and round, like disgusting little frogs, inside this liquid. I couldn't understand what it was that I was being shown. But then, in the last room I was led through, I saw people, and other strange creatures, which, even now, my mind can't make head or sense out of, lying on the table. And I passed a White man, a real White man, who smelled like a human being, was smelling of sweat, urine, excrement, and fear. This White man was lying on a table like the one I had been lying on, and I looked into his eyes and he looked into mine as I went by. And then I found myself out in the bush. I found that my trousers were missing.
There was a terrible pain in my left thigh. There was a pain in my penis which was starting to swell, and when I tried to pass water, the pain was excruciating. I took off my shirt and I used it as a loin-cloth and I walked through the bush. I first met a group of young Rhodesian Black people who guided me to my teacher's village. And when I arrived outside that village, I smelled so horribly that every dog in the village came yapping and snarling to tear me to pieces. And it was only my teacher and her other students and the villagers who saved me on that day. My teacher and the villagers were not at all surprised by what I had to tell them. They accepted it, sir. They said to me that what had happened to me had happened to many other people before, and that I was lucky to return alive, because many people have disappeared in that part of the land, never to be seen again-White people, Black people, and so on. Sir, I'm cutting a very long story short. In the year following, 1960, I was delivering parcels in the city of Johannesburg. You see, I was working in a curio shop, when a White man shouted at me to stop.
I assumed that the White man was a secret policeman who wanted to look into my identity documents. And when I tried to produce the documents, he told me, angrily, that he didn't want to see my stinking documents. Sir, he asked me this question: "Listen, where the hell have I seen you before? Who are you?" I said, "I am nobody, sir; I am just a working man." He said, "Don't bullshit me, man; who the hell are you? Where did I see you before?" And then I looked at him. I recognized him-his long, straggly, golden-brown hair, his ridiculous mustache and beard. I remembered him-his blue eyes blood-shot and naked-terror, shining upon his eyes, and his skin as pale as that of a goat. I said, "Meneer", which is the African's way. "Meneer-I saw you in Rhodesia in a certain place underground." And if I had hit that White man with my fist, he wouldn't have reacted the way he did, sir. He turned away and walked with a terrible expression, and he disappeared on the other side of the street. Now, roughly, this is what happened to me, sir, but it is not a unique experience at all. Since that time I met many, many, many people who have had the identical experience that I said, and most of them were traditional Black men and women who can neither read nor write. They were coming to me to seek my help as a shaman, but I was, myself, looking for somebody wiser than I to tell me what had happened to me, exactly.