It was a sweltering afternoon in Kampala, the kind of day when the heat clings to your skin and the air is thick with humidity. I had just finished my morning meetings and was about to head to lunch when my phone rang. It was my husband, and from the tone of his voice, I knew something was wrong. “You need to come home right away,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “There’s something you need to see.”
I immediately felt a knot form in my stomach. My mind raced with thoughts of what could have happened. I quickly gathered my things and rushed home, my heart pounding in my chest. When I arrived, my husband was sitting calmly in the living room, a peculiar smile on his face. “What’s going on?” I asked, my anxiety spiking.
He looked at me and said, “You know that conman who sold you those fake gold metals for $5,000?” I clenched my fists at the mention of that painful memory. Just a week ago, I had been conned by a man who had promised to sell me genuine gold for a business deal I was working on. I trusted him after months of negotiation and handed him the money, only to find out later that the “gold” he sold me was nothing more than worthless metal, painted to look like gold.
The betrayal had stung deeply. It wasn’t just the money; it was the humiliation of being duped. I had trusted him, and he took advantage of that. My anger had boiled over the past week, and I had been consumed by thoughts of revenge. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t track him down. It was as if he had disappeared into thin air.
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My husband continued, “I think you should come with me. You’ll want to see this for yourself.”
Without saying another word, I followed him out the door. We drove for about 5 kilometers outside Kampala, deep into a rural area. I was confused. What could possibly be out here? But I trusted my husband, and so I kept quiet, waiting to see where this strange journey would lead.
As we neared a small clearing, I saw a crowd of people gathered around something. The closer we got, the more bizarre the scene became. In the center of the crowd, there was a man crawling on the ground, desperately munching on clumps of grass like a wild animal. His clothes were tattered, his hands and knees caked in dirt, and his eyes were wide with fear and confusion.
I gasped as I recognized him—it was the very man who had conned me out of $5,000. He looked nothing like the smooth-talking, well-dressed businessman I had met just a week ago. Now, he was reduced to an animal, chewing grass and mumbling incoherently. My mind struggled to process what I was seeing.
“Is this really happening?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
My husband nodded, his eyes never leaving the man crawling on the ground. “Yes. It’s happening. And it’s all thanks to Mugwenu Doctors.”
I turned to him in shock. Mugwenu Doctors? I had heard of them before, but I had never really believed in their powers. My husband had mentioned them a few times, saying they were known for helping people with all kinds of problems—health, wealth, revenge, and even love. But I had always brushed it off, thinking it was just another superstition.
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Apparently, my husband hadn’t brushed it off. While I had been stewing in anger and frustration, he had taken matters into his own hands. After seeing how much pain and humiliation the conman had caused me, he had reached out to Mugwenu Doctors, asking for their help. He explained to me that he had requested a revenge spell to be cast on the man who had wronged us. I could hardly believe it. Could this really be the result of a spell?
As we stood there watching, the man continued to graze on the grass, oblivious to the crowd that had gathered around him. His once-proud demeanor had been completely shattered, and he looked like a shadow of the person he once was. It was both shocking and strangely satisfying.
I turned to my husband, still trying to make sense of it all. “How did you know this would happen?” I asked.
He smiled gently and said, “I didn’t. But I knew Mugwenu Doctors had a reputation for justice. When I saw how much this con had affected you, I couldn’t just stand by and do nothing. I went to Mugwenu, explained the situation, and they assured me that the conman would face the consequences of his actions. I never expected it to be so… dramatic, but here we are.”
I looked back at the man, who had now collapsed in exhaustion, his hands gripping the earth beneath him as if it were the only thing keeping him grounded in reality. Nearby, I spotted something shiny on the ground. It was a bundle of cash—$5,000, the very amount he had stolen from me. My money was just lying there, untouched, as if the universe had decided it was time for it to be returned to its rightful owner.
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I bent down and picked up the cash, my hands shaking as I held it. I couldn’t believe it. Not only had this man been punished for what he had done, but I was getting my money back, too. It was almost too surreal to comprehend.
The crowd began to disperse, some whispering in awe about what they had just witnessed, others laughing at the misfortune of the once-proud conman. But I felt no need for laughter. I felt relief—relief that justice had been served, that the man who had wronged me was facing the consequences of his actions, and that I could finally move on from the ordeal.
As we drove back home, I turned to my husband and said, “Thank you for doing this. I don’t know if I would have had the courage to seek Mugwenu’s help myself, but I’m so glad you did.”
He smiled at me, reaching over to squeeze my hand. “I couldn’t stand to see you hurt like that. And I knew that Mugwenu Doctors could help.”
In the weeks that followed, I reflected on what had happened. While I had never been one to believe in spells or traditional healers, the evidence was undeniable. The conman had been reduced to an animal, crawling on the ground and eating grass, while my money was returned to me as if by magic.
Justice had been served, and while I still felt anger at the betrayal, I was at peace knowing that the man would think twice before ever conning anyone again.
