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.

Because, sir, when I get caught by the Mantindane, you become so traumatized, your life becomes so changed, you become so embarrassed and ashamed of yourself, you develop a self-hatred which you cannot understand, and there are subtle changes in your life which make no sense to you. One: You develop a strange love for humankind. You want to shake everybody by the shoulders and say, "Hey, wake-up people; we are not alone. I KNOW we are not alone!" And, you develop a feeling that your life is no longer your own; and furthermore, you become compelled with a strange edge to move from place to place, to travel. You become worried about the future; you become worried about people. And another thing, sir, which I hoped one day you would send people to me to see for their own self: you develop knowledge which doesn't belong to you. You develop an understanding of space, an understanding of time and creation which makes no sense to you as a human being-it is a state, after your terrible torture, after substances have been removed from you, some kind of exchange takes place where you suddenly know things that the Mantindane would know, which ordinary human beings do not know. But, sir, I know that this sharing of God often happens even when-for example, at one time, in 1966, in South Africa, sir, I was arrested and rather savagely interrogated by the security police. It was that time when every Black intellectual, no matter who he or she was, had a visit from these really nasty guys, who put you to torture, sometimes, who used to put electrical devices on you, and ask you questions, and so on. Sometimes, when these "human beings" were torturing you, you often used to sense what they were thinking. Somehow, when you are being tortured by human beings, not by Mantindane only, there is a transference of thought. For example, when a particularly nasty secret policeman was coming to beat you, you KNEW what he was thinking, even before he burst into the room in which you were held.

You knew that he was coming, and you knew exactly what he was thinking and what he intended to do to you. So, this is why I say the strange things that flood my mind. And what flooded my mind on that day were visions from the mind of the Mantindane. Since that time-I am a man of only very limited education-I found it hard to speak, let alone to write English. I take long to say things which people of better English would say in few words. But, my hands are capable of making things which nobody ever taught me. I make engines, rocket engines that actually work. I make guns, of any type I wish, and all people who know me will tell you this and, Mr. David Icke, sir, might show you pictures of what I've done around my new home. I have made large robots out of scrap iron, and some of these robots are going to work. I don't know where I acquired this knowledge from. And since that terrible day, the visions I have seen since I was a child, and the ordinary impressions which I have as a shaman, have grown much more intense. I don't know why, and I want to know the reason why. But I can tell you, sir, that these creatures, which people wrongly call aliens, are not aliens at all. Over many years of looking into this thing, trying to understand it, I can tell you this: that the Mantindane, and the other kinds of alien beings that our people know about, are sexually compatible with human beings. The Mantindane are capable of impregnating African women. And I have come across many cases of this during the last 30 years or so. For example, according to our culture, abortion is regarded as worse than murder. And if a tribal woman from a rural area in South Africa is found to be pregnant by some unknown person, and then her pregnancy disappears, that, sir, relative to that woman, accuses her of having committed abortion, and yet she denies this, of course. And because of the fight that results between her and her relatives, the husband's relatives, then she challenges these people who are accusing her to take her to a sangoma; that is a person like myself.

The sangoma will sometimes examine the woman and, if the sangoma finds that the woman had been pregnant, and had somehow had her fetus removed-a thing which, when it is done by the Mantindane, results in specific injuries to the woman which anyone with experience can recognize-then, the sangoma knows that the woman is telling the truth. Also, the smell which clings to people who have been through the hands of the Mantindane, that meticulous man which is unforgetable, always clings to all women who have been impregnated by the Mantindane, no matter how much perfume or powder they try to use. So, that is why many such cases land on the doorstep of my life.

Sangomas bring such people to me in large numbers, because they think I am the best one to help in such problems. So, in the last 40 years or so, I have received many women who have actually been impregnated by the Mantindane and their pregnancies mysteriously terminated, leaving the woman feeling defiled, feeling guilty, and rejected by her family. It becomes my duty to convince the family of the woman's innocence, to try and heal the terrible spiritual and mental-as well as physical-trauma that the woman has undergone, and to otherwise help her and her members of the family, and forget what happened. No, sir; if these aliens are from a far away planet, why are they able to impregnate women? And why did that strange creature, which was naked, with red pubic hair, which climbed over me on that working table, why did it have an organ which, though slightly different from that of a normal woman, was still a recognizable female organ? The creature's organ was in the wrong place. It was slightly more in the front, where that of normal woman is between the legs. But it was recognizable, and it looked like a female organ. It had hair like a woman's organ. So, sir, I believe that these so-called aliens don't come from far away at all. I believe that they are here with us, and I believe that they need substances from us, just as some of us human beings use certain things from wild animals, such as monkey glands, for certain selfish purposes of our own. I believe, sir, that we should study this dangerous phenomenon very, very, clearly and with objective minds. Far too many people fall into the temptation of looking upon these "aliens" as supernatural creatures. They are just solid creatures, sir. They are like us; and, furthermore, I'm going to make a statement here which will come as a surprise: the Grey aliens, sir, are edible. Surprised?

Martin:Please continue.

Credo Mutwa: I said, sir, the Grey aliens are edible.

Martin: Yes, I heard that and I'm anxious to....

Credo Mutwa: Their flesh is protein, just as animal flesh on Earth is, but, anyone who ingests Grey alien flesh comes very, very close to death. I nearly did. You see, in Lesotho there is a mountain called Laribe; it is called the Crying Stone mountain. On several occasions, in the last 50 years or so, alien craft have crashed against this mountain. And one last incident was reported in the newspapers not so long ago.

An African who believes that these creatures are gods, when they find the corpse of a dead Grey alien, they take it, put it in a bag, and drag it into the bush, where they dismember it and ritually eat it.

But some of them die as a result of ingesting that thing. About a year before I had the experience from the Inyangani Mountains, I had been given, by a friend of mine in Lesotho, flesh from what he called a sky god. I was skeptical. He gave me a small lump of grey, rather dry stuff, which he said was the flesh. And he and I and his wife ritually ate this thing, one night. After we had eaten this thing, sir, on the following day, exactly, our bodies erupted into a rash which was like nothing I had experienced in my life before. Our bodies were so full of the rash and urticaria, it was as if we had small pox. We itched, the itching was horrible, especially under the arm-pits and between the legs, and the buttocks. Our tongues began to swell. We could not breathe. And for a number of days, my friend, his wife and I were totally helpless, secretly attended by initiates who were studying under my friend, who was a shaman. I came very close to death. There was bleeding from nearly every orifice in our body. We passed blood, much blood when we went to the toilet. We could barely walk, barely breathe. And after about 4 or 5 days, the rash subsided, then the pealing of the skin took its place now. Our skins began to peal, in scales like that of a snake shedding it's skin. Sir, it was one of the most terrible experiences I had undergone. In fact, when I began to feel better, I think that my being abducted by the Mantindane was the direct result of my having ingested flesh from one of these creatures. I had not believed that what my friend was giving me was flesh from a creature. I assumed it was some kind of root or herb or whatever. But, afterwards, I recalled the taste of the thing. It had a coppery taste, and had the same type of smell that I was to encounter in 1959. And, after the rash went down-while I was still peeling and we were smeared from head to foot with coconut oil by the initiates, every day-a strange change came over us, sir, which I am asking all people of knowledge who would read this in your country to try and explain to me. We went crazy, sir, utterly crazy. We started laughing like real loony tunes. It was ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha, day after day-for the slightest things we started laughing our heads off, for hours, until you were nearly exhausted. And then the laughing went away; and then a strange thing happened, a thing which my friend said was the goal which those who ate the flesh of a Mantindane wanted to achieve. It was as if we had ingested a strange substance, a drug, a drug like no other on this Earth. Suddenly, our feelings were heightened. When you drank water, it was as if you had drunk a wine of some kind.

Water became as delicious as a man-made drink. Food began to taste amazingly. Every feeling was heightened, and it's indescribable-it was as if I was one with the very heart of the universe. I cannot describe it any other way. And this feeling of amazing intensity of feeling lasted for over 2 months. When I listened to music, it was as if there was music behind the music, behind the music. When I painted pictures-which is what I do for a living-and when I was holding a particular color on the tip of my brush, it was as if there were other colors in that color. It was an indescribable thing, sir. Even now I cannot describe it. But let me now, sir, go to something else. The Mantindane are not the only alien beings that we Africans have seen and know about, and have got stories to tell about. Many, many, many centuries ago, before the first White-man came to Africa, we African people encountered a race of alien beings which looked exactly like the European White-man who were going to invade Africa in our future. These alien creatures are tall. Some of them are rather well built, like athletes, and they have slightly slanting blue eyes and high cheek-bones. And they have got golden hair, and they look exactly like the Europeans of today, with one exception: their fingers are beautifully made, long and like those of musicians and artists. Now, these creatures came to Africa out of the sky, in craft which looked like the boomerang of the Australian people. Now, when one of these craft comes down to land, it creates a whirlwind of dust, which makes a very large sound indeed, like that of a tornado. In the language of some African tribes, a whirlwind is zungar-uzungo. Now, our people gave several names to these White-skinned aliens.

They called them Wazungu, a word which loosely means "god" but literally means "people of the dust-devil or the whirlwind". And, our people were familiar with these Wazungu from the start. They saw them, and they saw that some-in fact, many-of these Wazungu carry what appears to be a sphere made of crystal or glass, a sphere which they always playfully bounce like a ball in their hands. And when a force of warriors tries to capture a Wazungu, the Wazungu throws this ball into the air, catches it in his hands, and then disappears. But, some Wazungu were captured by Africans in the past and forcibly kept prisoner in the villages of chiefs, and in the caves of shamans.

The person who had captured the Muzungu, as he is called in singular, had to make sure that he kept the glass-globe well-hidden from the Wazungu. So long as he kept the globe hostage, the Muzungu could not escape. And when Africans saw the real Europeans, the White men from Europe, they transferred to them the name Wazungu. Before we met the people from Europe, we Africans, we had met White-skinned Wazungu, and we transferred the name Wazungu to the real Europeans, from the aliens. Now, in the Zulu language, we call a White man Umlungu. Now, the word Umlungu means exactly the same as Wazungu, "a god or a creature which creates a big whirlwind underground". In Zaire, called now the Democratic Republic of the Congo, White people are called Watende or Walende. This, again, means "a god or a White creature". And, the word Watende not only is used to refer to the pink-skinned alien, but is also used to refer to the field Chitauli. In Zaire, when shamans talk fearfully about the lords who control the Earth, they refer to them not as Chitauli, but they refer to them euphemistically as Watende-wa-muinda-that is, "the White creature which carries a light" because at night the Chitauli's forehead eyes glow like red lights in the dense bush. They glow like the rear lights of an automobile in the dense bush. So, a Watende-wa-muinda "the White creature of the light", that is what the Chitauli are called in the Democratic Republic of the Congo. There are over 24 other alien creatures, sir, that we Africans know about, but I will tell you briefly, now, about only two. Sir, in the country called Zimbabwe, where I had my encounter in 1959, there is also another creature. This is the most amazing creature, and I saw it once, and so did several other people, some Black and some White, who were with me. This creature is a huge creature, and shaped exactly like a gorilla, but it is unlike a gorilla, which often walks on its feet, as well as on its knuckles.

The creature I'm talking about, sir, stands about 8 feet or 9 feet high, and is built exactly like a gorilla, but its body is very powerful. Its shoulders are very wide, it's neck is very thick. It is covered with thick, rough fur, like no other wild animal in Africa. It is a humanoid creature, with thighs and legs and feet, as well as arms and hands which look exactly like those of a human being, only covered with a heavy mat of dark-brown fur. This creature, sir, is known as Ogo by the people of Zimbabwe. And schools of people have seen this creature, hundreds over the many generations. Some of these creatures have been seen right here in South Africa, in isolated bushy and mountainous places. And these Ogo are, detail for detail, exactly like what the Native American people of the Northwestern United States call a Sasquatch or Bigfoot. In fact, I say it is the same creature and we have it right here in southern Africa. It is also exactly the same creature, but with a totally different skin color, as the one that is seen by the people of Nepal on the slopes of the Himalaya mountains, the creature that is called a Yeti. Now, then, the last creature, sir, a creature which is so well known in South Africa, and elsewhere in Africa, that if you mention its name, people smile. It is called a Tokoloshe. Every African knows what a Tokoloshe is. Some call it Tikoloshe. It looks like a very nasty looking teddy-bear in appearance, in that it's head is like that of a teddy-bear, but it has got a thick, sharp, bony ridge on top of its head. The ridge goes from above its forehead to the back of its head, and with this ridge it can knock down an ox by butting it with its head. This creature causes the Black people in certain places to raise their beds on bricks, one brick laid on top of the other one, about 3 feet above the ground. And you find this all over South Africa. This Tokoloshe likes to play with children, and has been seen hundreds of times by school children, in various parts of South Africa, even in recent times. Sometimes it will terrorize children by scratching them as they sleep, leaving long, parallel scratches on a child's back and upon a child's thighs, scratches that become infected and itch terribly. About two years ago, a creature like this terrorized a whole school of children in Soweto, near Johannesburg. And the school children called it pinky-pinky. Now, this creature is not only known in South Africa amongst Black people, it is also known, sir, amongst Polynesian people of Hawaii, and other islands in the Pacific. These people lift their huts, their grass houses, on stilts, to the height exactly that Africans lift their bed. When you ask a Polynesian, "Why do you built your huts like this?" The Polynesian will say, "We want to protect ourselves from Tiki." Now, this is interesting, sir-that a creature exactly like the one seen in South Africa is also seen on some Pacific islands, and the name by which it is known in the Pacific, Tiki, is very close to the African word Tikiloshe, or Tokoloshe. One day I hope to share more of this information with your readers, but my appeal, again, is this: Please investigate! Please, let us investigate! Let us stop being too skeptical. Excessive skepticism is just as dangerous and as evil as gullibility. Nobody can tell me that aliens don't exist. Let someone tell me, what is the meaning of this hole in my side? Let someone tell me, why is it that after I had been mated to that strange creature, in that strange place, my organ of manhood swelled horribly, and for many years after that I couldn't make love to an ordinary woman, properly.

Why? If that was a figment of my imagination, how can a figment of one's imagination leave you with scars and cracks on your male organ, some of which have not healed to this date? Let such people answer me that question. We must investigate, sir, because there is every sign that the alien creatures sharing this planet with us are getting desperate. Why? Because, you see, there is a great fight shaping up, and anyone who thinks deeply about such things can see this fight coming. What am I talking about? Sir, until 30 or 40 years ago, very few people cared about the environment. Very few people were concerned about the destruction of the rain forests in Africa and elsewhere.

Very few people were concerned when White hunters, who, at that time were regarded as heroes, massacred Africa's animals in the thousands.

Very few people were concerned when the great nations of the world, such as the United States, Russia, Britain, and France, openly tested nuclear weapons in many parts of the world. Today there are people who would spit at a big-game hunter if he showed himself in a hotel and announced what he was. Today a big-game hunter is no longer looked upon as a hero, but rather as a murderer.

Today there are men and women, Black and White, who are prepared to risk their lives to save trees, to save animals, and to stop the insanity of testing nuclear weapons. Sir, what does this tell you? It tells you that, after many thousands of years of being dominated by alien creatures, human beings are starting to fight back. Human beings are starting to care about the world in which they live and in which they find themselves. But, the aliens, the Chitauli, the Mantindane-call them what you will-are not going to take that lying down. They are going to punish us, as they did centuries before. The aliens once destroyed a nation whose name has come down to us Africans as the nation of Amariri. It is said that the kings of Amariri, this fabulous country which we believed lay beyond the setting of the Sun, were refusing to do what the Chitauli were telling them to do. The kings, at that time, were refusing to sacrifice their children to the Chitauli. They were refusing to make war on fellow human-beings, in order to sustain the Chitauli, with their god's image. It is said that the Chitauli brought down a fire from Heaven. They took fire from the Sun itself and they used it to burn that great civilization away. They caused earthquakes and tidal waves and destroyed the great civilization of the Red people of the long green hair, who are said to have been the first people ever to be created on this Earth. It is said that the Chitauli allowed only a few surviving people to escape the destruction of Amariri, and that they are prepared to do this again in the very near future. I'm worried about what is going to happen in other countries in the world. All these earthquakes, which have caused the destruction of human life in the Middle East and in parts of Africa and India, why does my heart feel frightened when I read about all this? These earthquakes are happening with unnatural regularity now, in Egypt, in Armenia, and one of these earthquakes was so powerful, it went right through the planet Earth and caused a very sacred rock in Namibia, a rock known as the Finger of God, which has been standing for tens of thousands of years, to collapse in a heap of rubble. And when that rock collapsed, I received many worried letters from sangomas who believed that because this rock had fallen, then the end of the world was very, very near. Is there a question, please?

Martin:I read your poem, your pledge. In your pledge you mention the name Jabulon. Can you explain who that is?
Credo Mutwa: Jabulon, sir, is a very strange god. He is supposed to be the leader of the Chitauli. He is a god, to my great surprise, which I find certain groups of White people, especially, worshipping.

We have known about Jabulon for many, many centuries, we Black people. But I am surprised that there are White people who worship this god, and these people, amongst them are people whom many have blamed for all the things that have happened on this Earth, namely, the Freemason people. We believe that Jabulon is the leader of the Chitauli. He is the Old One. And one of his names, in the African language, sir, is Umbaba-Samahongo-"the lord king, the great father of the terrible eyes"-because we believe that Jabulon has got one eye which, if he opens it, you die if he looks at you. It is said, sir, the Umbaba ran away from an eastern land during a power struggle with one of his sons, and he took refuge in Central Africa, where he hides in a cave, deep underground. And it is an amazing thing, sir-it is said that under the Mountains of the Moon in Zaire is this great city of copper, of many thousands of shining buildings. There dwells the god Umbaba or Jabulon. And this god is waiting for the day when the surface of the Earth will be cleared of human beings so that he, and his children, the Chitauli, can come out and enjoy the heat of the Sun. And, one day, sir, I had a very unexpected visit while I was living in Soweto, near Johannesburg. I was visited by priests from Tibet. One of these priests, I'm sure you have met him or you know of him.

His name is Akyong Rinpochce. He is one of the leading Tibetan priests in England who was exiled with the Dalai Lama, and he visited me one day while I was in my medicinal village in Soweto. And one of the things that Akyong Rinpochce asked me was, "Do I know of a secret city which is somewhere in Africa, a city made of copper?" I said, "But, Akyong, you are describing the city of Umbaba, the city of the unseen god, the god who hides underground. How do you know about this?" And Akyong Rinpochce, who is a very serious investigator of strange phenomena, told me that at one time the great Lama left Tibet with a group of followers and came to Africa searching for this city. And the Lama, and his followers, were never seen again. They never returned back to Tibet. Now, sir, we have got stories in central and southern Africa about little Yellow men who came to Africa looking for the city of Umbaba, the city from which you cannot return alive. What is amazing, sir-I don't know whether this falls within the orbit of your newspaper, but-there are very, very disturbing stories which I have followed-up here in South Africa, stories which make no sense to me. (Break for a few minutes.)

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