FIRST SEE:
THE WITCHES BEHIND CHILD SACRIFE IN UGANDA
http://watchmanafrica.blogspot.com/2009/01/reaction-to-mwambutsya-ndebesas-article.html
THE ANGLICAN CHURCH IN UGANDA IS IN BED WITH WITCHCRAFT PROMOTING KINGDOMS
http://www.yesumulungi.com/index.php/apostasy-watch/118-The%20threat%20of%20the%20church%20from%20without%20is%20Satanism.html
Women found tied with chains Ndaula’s shrine
http://www.bukedde.co.ug/detail.php?mainNewsCategoryId=2&newsCategoryId=60&newsId=534816
http://www.bukedde.co.ug/detail.php?mainNewsCategoryId=2&newsCategoryId=62&newsId=534921
Police opens file against Ndaula, the satanic priest
http://www.bukedde.co.ug/detail.php?mainNewsCategoryId=2&newsCategoryId=61&newsId=535066
Inside the world of the abasamize
http://www.monitor.co.ug/artman/publish/sunday_life/Inside_the_world_of_the_abasamize_88661.shtml
Sunday Life | July 26, 2009
They have been labelled as people who practice witchcraft and have been accused of trying to take over the Buganda Kingdom, but the leader of this religious sect say all he wants to do is redeem his people, Edwin Nuwagaba writes.
The Uganda Convention for Community Development in Rubaga may seem like another business at first glance. They repair cars, sew clothes, have a school and a community bank, hold training sessions to learn math and science, and run a large security business.
But step inside, ask a few questions, and a deeper spirituality becomes apparent. These are the followers of Jjaja Ndawula, a spirit that has shown its followers a new way: a path of miraculous healing, religious rituals, and intellectual empowerment.
A few weeks ago, having asked Omulangira Ssuuna how he came to name his studio Maureen, the artiste led me to this area in Rubaga - the base of abasamize, spirit worshippers. Maureen, as I found out, is a spirit that most members of the sect take on for their businesses. You perhaps have heard of Maureen Security, which is hired when there is an international artiste in town. It is one of the businesses they own.
I was introduced to the leader of the sect, John Musoke Sendawula, above - a short, dark-skinned man in sandals; the man who has drawn over 2,000 members to the sect. His followers refer to him as Jjaja because he is the intermediate for Jjaja Ndawula, the chief spirit.
Ndawula was one of the first kings of Buganda about 200 hundred years ago. Other spirits or guardian angels possess Sendawula and other members during rituals.
Past the bank and community shop, past men hammering metal and women sewing clothes, the smell of incense pierces the air and wafts through more than 20 shrines. Inside these shrines are spears, dolls, dimly lit lanterns, small flower pots, and other items typical of traditional shrines.
I tried to resist the cold chill running through my body, but this is not just an ordinary place, and yes, there is something totally strange here. No wonder Ssuuna told me the reason he came here with other members of a well known band was because they needed blessings.
While some of the members left shortly after because they were not comfortable with the happenings, Ssuuna stayed on to train other members of the community when Sendawula recognised his talent. “Most people come here sick or mad and on healing, decide to stay,” says Roushitrah Matovu, a student of Geology at Makerere University.
Roushitra himself came in a terrible condition, but says he was healed by the spirits. Although people at school misunderstand him, he feels at home here and knows he is doing the right thing.
Every shrine here has a different spirit that inhabits it, like Jjaja Mukasa and Jjaja Walumbe. But the most eye-catching shrine of all belongs to Jjaja Walumbe, which has a coffin-shaped box wrapped with a crystal-white cloth and is surrounded by flowers and a number of small spears and teddy bears.
Some people come to the compound occasionally for a visit, while others make their homes there and stay permanently. As I stood there, a beautiful young lady dressed in school uniform crossed and went into one of the shrines.
This was just an introduction to the followers of Jjaja Ndawula. Outside, a van was heading to Buwali in Wakiso District at the sect’s headquarters, where the leader of the sect was going to inspect a few things. I saw this as an opportunity to get a more intimate look into the sect. While in the vehicle, I discussed a number of things with the 47-year-old leader of the sect. He told me that he did not choose to start the sect.
“It is the Jjajas who possessed me,” he said. “I started getting sick and later I started hearing strange voices; I was then told that there were people who were going to start joining me. That is why you see all these people.”
The spirits sent him to Kongogye at Nakibinge Omulwanyamuli, Jjaja Ndawula’s grandfather’s place, where he was sworn in by the spirits.
Society, he says, carries many misconceptions about the community. “They relate us to witchcraft, which is not true,” he said. “We do not even sacrifice animals.” In a sad tone, Sendawula said that black people have been fooled, and their traditions have been tarnished by foreigners, who mislabel them as witchcraft.
But he said Jjaja Muwanga has come to redeem his people. Perhaps this is why these people work hard all day, have numerous gardens of maize, own a chain of cars and run a number of companies like Bukasa Telecom, which Sendawula brags will be the leading telecom service provider in Africa within five years.
Roushitra told me that Jjaja Ndawula compels them to study as a way to get themselves out of poverty and ignorance. A number of their young followers have been sent to universities in China, the US and other foreign countries to study modern technology.
Sendawula went on to say that there have been conspiracies by traditional healers to stop him, simply because his leader, Jjaja Ndawula, does not concede with the practices of traditional healers.
“A man came to me one day and told me he was a policeman. He had a rope that a person had used to hang himself and wanted to sell it to me, but I chased him away,” he said.
He also told me of a certain prince in the Buganda Kingdom who once alleged that the sect leader wanted to take over the kingdom. “But look at me, who am I to take over the Buganda Kingdom?” Sendawula’s eyes zero on his sandals, and he laughs at himself.
In the middle of this chaos, President Museveni invited him to State House and asked him about the allegations. “I told him we are just doing the work of our balubaale (ancestors), and he referred me to the late Noble Mayombo, who found us innocent,” he recalls. Sendawula said the reason why the prince could have shown fear is because Jjaja Ndawula falls in the lineage of Buganda kings.
When one has stayed in the community for some time, they change their names to suit their new identity. For instance, the accountant in the community bank calls herself Alicentre, because she is at the centre of most activities. Members also abstain from eating meat and drinking alcohol.
The following Monday, with a photographer, I went to see how these people worship at the sect’s headquarters. And, as we travelled to the shrine, the members told me that Jjaja Ndawula had told them never to dismiss any spiritual book. They believe that both Mohammed and Jesus were messengers of God who have now turned into spirits, just like Jjaja Ndawula.
While they believe in misambwa, also known as djiin (spirits), these people also read both the Bible and the Quran, and they refer to them often. Emerolds Mukasa claimed he understands the Bible better than many church-frequenting Christians. They keep these two books in their shrines and use them as books of wisdom.
Another man, Ezaya Ngabo Kiggundu, argued that most people with spiritual possessions rush to churches instead of seeking ritual interventions, and that is why there are many mad people. If they performed the duty that the spirits want them to, he said, they would be healed. I asked him to give me an example, and he told me:
“For instance, your grandfather could have left his spear somewhere and your ancestors tampered with it, so all he needs is for you to go and replace that spear, and that’s all.”
We finally arrived at the central shrine for all the spirits that these people have tapped into their lives. This time the place was brightly lit with lights. Cars slowly arrived, carrying people who had gone home to freshen up for the all-night event.
Men and women hugged each other as if they had spent a long time without meeting. Inside the temple, the leader of the sect played the keyboard as the choir members rehearsed the worship songs. These songs are in a wide variety of languages and are composed by members of the sect.
Outside at one of the shrines, two men served fruits; Mukasa told us they were sent by the spirits to do that task. “The spirits can tell you to do anything,” he said. The hut for serving the fruits is called eya abalongo, the shrine for the spirits of children who passed away at a tender age. The shrines here are bigger than those in Rubaga, and they have grass-thatched roofs.
In the temple, everyone gets possessed differently. One woman cried out loud, while two women in a corner held their cheeks, as another man, all dressed in red, bowed at the altar.
At around 5a.m. early the next morning, is when the main spiritual activities take place. There is a tall building here called the white house. The leader goes there, gets possessed, and comes down to speak to his people. We did not stay long to see all this, but we were told that the sect leader, who during the day seemed strong, walks with difficulty, and speaks in a shaky voice with a frowned face after getting possessed.
Followers sit inside, listen to him, and ask him questions. Mukasa told us that they learned before any other person that the twin towers in the USA were going to be crashed into because the Jjaja had prophesied it. And because the spirits tell them that they are fighters naturally, there is a ritual in which they all pick spears and act like they are piercing themselves.
One thing about this sect is that with all the mystery that surrounds their practices, they are peaceful people who carry out their beliefs in secret while working hard and producing fruitfully.
