DISEASE
At Yangambi, apart from a few students who attended the magic demonstrations that I had in the open air in Kisangani, nobody could suspect my mysterious activities. My conscience reproached me for not taking care of my parents. Indeed, they knew I was studying in Kisangani, and one of my teachers was giving me accommodation. Sometimes when I was still with Helena, I sent them small amounts of money, while making them understand that I was unemployed. In reality, I could not arouse their attention by giving them large sums of money. So I arrived at Yangambi and appeared completely normal to them. I was well received, neighbors came to say hello. I felt a little grief at the idea that I will miss all these dear people for good after noonday, that is to say, after my death!
At eleven fifty-five in the morning, I told them I will withdraw into my room to rest. Actually, I do not want to die in the presence of my parents. Before I laid down on the bed, I made this prayer: "Lord Jesus, to join Thee I have left all my glory, all my wealth and my happiness. Now I'm going to die. I ask you one thing, Lord Jesus, I want my spirit not to leave for the cemetery, where I was from. Send your angels to get my spirit, that I may not be the laughingstock of those I have left to follow You. I wish my spirit to go where the spirit of the third corpse from the cemetery has gone. Forgive my sins and take care of my parents. Amen!"
At noon, I felt a weakness invade my body. My whole body, as well as the room where I was, was flooded with a strong smell of perfume. I told myself that the doctor had kept his word. Indeed, after more than ten years of service in the occultic world, the demons had given me some knowledge of their manners. For example, when I lived with Helena, and when I was taking a bath, I was using perfume bottles instead of water. Where were they from? I do not know. So when I smelled perfume in my room, I knew demons had come. Then I lost consciousness.
At four in the evening, I came to consciousness, and I realized that I was not dead. A few moments later, I became paralyzed, that is to say, the joints of my body no longer properly obeyed my will. I had lost my memory. I did not know how to calculate or what my name was. I did not know how to express myself properly. I could not stand on my legs for more than five minutes without falling or losing balance. In short, I had become mentally retarded!
My parents did not understand what had happened. I knew, but I was not able to tell them. In their haste, they took me to the healers to help me. For two weeks, I followed this native treatment without success. They made incisions in the neck, kidneys, face, abdomen, and wrists with razor blades, while rubbing into those incision some black powder substances with their fingers. I followed this treatment without any improvement in my health.
Sometimes I regained my memory for a limited time interval. One day, in a moment of lucidity, I said to my parents, "This native treatment is of no use to me. Spirits are responsible for my present condition. These witch doctors can do nothing against those spirits. They all serve a single master. Take me instead to the hospital where I go to die, instead of damaging my body through such unnecessary incisions. What good is all this spending?"
The next day, my parents brought me to the hospital to INERA Yangambi. The doctors, after having examined, diagnosed heart palpitations. For more details, and for those who would one day check the veracity of what follows, I give you the names of the two doctors who made the diagnosis: the doctor LIKWELA and the doctor KANDE. These doctors concluded that I would be discharged after two weeks.
My dear brothers and sisters, instead of the predicted two weeks, I stayed two years in the hospital, just to be able to get my two front feet out! Two years of hardship and agony.
Besides my isolation and my suffering, there was also the problem of my diet. Indeed, seven years of feeding on that food prepared at the cemetery had conditioned my stomach. All the normal prepared food that I wanted to swallow either caused me to vomit or gave me diarrhea. I was therefore forced to reconnect with my old diet that consisted of eating only raw foods when I was still with the teacher. It was easy for me to follow this diet. But such a scheme of eating only raw foods in a hospital in Yangambi was a luxury that was beyond my means. So I spent three to four days fasting since no one could give me the kind of raw foods I needed to eat. I'm not condemning my parents for lack of food. I understood. First, they had nothing to do with what happened to me. Then the food they had to give me was rare on the market. Finally, the distance between the hospital and the house was also largely responsible for this deprivation. So I understand them.
My little brothers who were to bring me the food were tired too. As the days went by, my parents lost interest in me because of the length of my illness. My disease was also never well defined. Two years in the hospital is not a small thing in the life of a human being. My parents wanted to see my recovery and my cure, or my death. Because they were outraged, yes, outraged to see me suffer and to be unable to do anything to help me. So they prayed, asking the Almighty to heal me or take away my life, for that I remain in this condition did not satisfy anyone except Satan, of course, my old boss.
My health went from bad to worse. I was worsening day near day, despite the drugs that were administered to me, thanks to my family relationships with some nurses. My younger brother was a trainee nurse in this hospital. After his internship, he confided to me the care of his friends, so that I was treated well. Despite all the care, my illness became worse.
I was not afraid at the thought of dying. What troubled me was the idea that after my death my spirit could return to the cemetery. To end this ordeal, I decided to kill myself. But, remembering the condition of suicides at the cemetery, I refused to perform what I personally had plans to accomplish. I preferred to achieve death through someone else.
I once asked a nurse to end my days, for example by exceeding the dose of medication, or just poisoning me. At the time, the nurse said nothing. Two days later he placed himself at the head of my bed and told me, "It's not because you're the brother of my friend that gives you the license to die at our hands. The act that you think of committing towards yourself is a disgrace in the field of medicine. No doctor, no nurse in the world can agree to commit the act you're asking me to commit without incurring lawsuits from the order of physicians. Besides, I would be erased from the medical association, and could no longer exercise this profession of medicine. So you see, what you ask me to do is to betray my oath. But since you want to die, wait, I'll help you thereby chasing you out of here! That way, you will die where you like, but not here in any case."
I wish to inform you that this nurse had been informed about my past and that he knew who I was. For him, what I asked him to do was worst than magic. However, I knew it was Satan who made me suffer like this, to make me understand that it was not easy to terminate my service to him.
They brought me to the hospital for tests because there were fewer patients in this hospital. Several days passed. One day I was sitting on the veranda, leaning against a column. I noticed that the world where I was started to avoid me. In other words, images and sounds were going away from me and returning. When they went away, everything became smaller, and sounds become inaudible. This phenomenon lasted at least ten minutes, then everything went back to normal.
I informed my nurse. This nurse told me at once that it indicates the death was coming, and that I should think that it was time for me to pray or confess. Contrary to his expectation, perhaps, when he gave me this response, it filled me with so much joy that he could not imagine. I told myself that at last, I was going to die, that suffering and isolation were over, as well as illness and torment, and I was finally going to see Jesus. I was going to see Him face to face, He, the King of all spirits, He who was so feared, He, the epitome of all power!
After the nurse announced what had happened, they changed my room. I was then transferred to the room of the dying. There was already a man who had preceded me in this room and occupying a bed where he was already dead. I inform you that, during the five days preceding my room change, no one had brought me food. In addition to my illness, I was so hungry, and despite the blankets, I was cold.
I felt in myself a total shutting down invading my whole being. I was lying on my sick bed. There was a boy who had come to visit a sick relative. After he looked all over the hospital, he was sent to the room where I was. There he found his parents in agony. The young man hastened to warn the family of the state of their parent. Before he left, I motioned him to come closer. He recognized in me the magician of Kisangani despite my weight loss.
Without giving him time to utter a word, I told him to go and tell my parents the seriousness of my condition, and I added, "I feel that death is approaching. I will die. I sensed that and besides, the doctors have told me that. You will tell my parents that I am dying and tell them to hurry because this will be their last visit. They will not come back here after my death, if not to carry my dead body and bury it. By dying, I put an end to their torment. Tell them I do not want them to die so young. It's not their fault. They, they sent me to study, and I, because I wanted to get rich quickly, I dabbled in magic. I have only one regret regarding this: I die like a dog. Dying as someone who has no family, no one beside me to close my eyes after my death. I die hungry: for five days, nobody came to see me, and I have not eaten anything. Tell them I do not blame them. It's my fault. Go and repeat to them everything I have told you."
Touched by this mournful speech, the boy began to cry. He refused to leave, saying he preferred to wait until I die, for he will close the eyes after me, and then he would go and do what I have asked him to. But I categorically refused his proposal. To convince him, I added, "Make it quick. Perhaps if you hurry, they can find me still alive, and so I can tell them that I have not had the courage to tell you. Hurry up!" Reassured, the boy went, but it was sad.
A few hours after the departure of the young man, I felt strange sensations in my body. Lying on my bed in the room where I was, I saw the sky coming down at breakneck speed and covering my eyes. I repeat that I was in the hospital room. I turned my eyes left to right to try to understand what was happening to me, but everywhere my head turned, I saw only the blue sky. Not the black of night, but the blue sky. My ability to see was parting away from me. (Eccl. 12: 4 And the doors shall be shut in the streets when the sound of the grinding is low, and he shall rise up at the voice of the bird, and all the daughters of music shall be brought low;).
Moments later, the sound went away. I felt the sounds that were around me move away gradually, until disappearing completely. No sound or noise was more noticeable to me. I concluded that I had become deaf. The hearing was, in turn, parted from me. (Eccl. 12: 6 Or ever the silver cord be loosed, or the golden bowl be broken, or the pitcher be broken at the fountain, or the wheel broken at the cistern.). I was not blind, yet all I could see was blue. I was deaf. I saw nothing and heard nothing about me, but I felt everything was happening there. So I was still conscious, somehow. A moment later, I found that my jaws weighed so heavy and not obeying the force of my will to yawn or close. I could not speak or make any sound out. However, my heart was still beating and I was breathing, although with difficulty, but I still breathed. The speech was parting from me. (Eccl. 12: 6 Or ever the silver cord be loosed, or the golden bowl be broken, or the pitcher be broken at the fountain, or the wheel broken at the cistern.).
Then I suddenly felt a freezing cold, if not mortal, coming over me and grabbing my toes and my fingers. From the toes and fingers, cold gradually spread throughout my body and converged on the heart. Each member of my body became insensitive through the cold as if it no longer existed. It then became impossible for me to move even a finger. All members of my body had become too heavy and did not obey me. The sense of touch had left. (Eccl. 12: 7 Then shall the dust return to the earth as it was: and the spirit shall return to God who gave it.).
Then came the critical moment, an excruciating moment that will be experienced by all born of woman. The beating of my heart sounded in me with great amplification, like a hammer on the anvil of a blacksmith. Thoum! Thoum! Thoum! The sequence of shots became irregular. The interval between stroke and the following widened more and more. I was afraid and I wanted to cry. (Eccl. 12: 7 Then shall the dust return to the earth as it was: and the spirit shall return to God who gave it.).
I wanted to shout to call for help! But the voice never went out of my throat. I wanted to call a preacher of the Good Word, the pastor to baptize me. I wanted to make even a short prayer, but the ideas were too late. Everything was confused in my head. I was suffering and my pain was increasing more and more.
My dear brothers and sisters in Christ, I cried, regretted my life, especially my youth. I told myself that it was my fault that I had to suffer so. Why had I sought to get rich? Why had I sought the power and the glory by resorting to dishonest means? Why had I blindly followed the teachings of the teacher? Why had I practiced magic? Now I die prematurely, young and poor, while those of my age still lived, although poor but still alive. Now I had to pay the price, but what price? (Eccles. 12: 1-3 1 Remember now your Creator in the days of your youth, while the evil days come not, nor the years draw near, when you shall say, I have no pleasure in them; 2 While the sun, or the light, or the moon, or the stars, be not darkened, nor the clouds return after the rain: 3 In the day when the keepers of the house shall tremble, and the strong men shall bow themselves, and the grinders cease because they are few, and those that look out of the windows be darkened.)
A throbbing pain gripped my heart. It looked like a mysterious surgeon, better yet, a butcher, using scissors cutting a region at the heart center in a crude and raw manner. With each cut of the pair of scissors, the pain increased in intensity. With each stroke, I took in a breath of fresh air. I inhaled the air in large quantities, but my lungs were never filled! It looked like they had holes in them and air passed through without being retained. We all know that breathing is to inhale fresh air and exhale air already processed by the lungs. But I did not inspire, while my lungs did not allow me to exhale.
Each new blow, the pain became more and more acute, and I inspired now much larger puffs of air as the previous times. Dear brothers and sisters, it is at this moment that every man needs his Creator. Besides, I have no comments to make on this, since you are already born. So you will die one day, and you will go through this experience to verify its veracity. I may not be able to find the appropriate words to describe the way things are. It was at that moment that you know you covet thy God, thou who hast not yet known, and you were obstinate to ignore. The last cut of the pair of scissors snipped the final thread of my life! All the air in my lungs came out and I exhaled my last breath. I was dead!
ON THE OTHER SIDE OF DEATH
A few seconds after my lungs rejected all the air they contained, I found myself getting up from my bed so that my feet touched the ground. Beside me, on the other bed, I noticed a person who also rose from his bed. This person wanted to know if I was ready for the trip. Indeed, it seemed that I had to make a journey, but to where I did not know! So I answered in the affirmative.
My new companion and I went down from our respective beds, and we headed for the exit. While we pulled away, I threw a glance at the place I had just left. On the bed, I noticed an elongated shape covered with clothes. I did not recognize this form as my old body because I had another, and I was not crazy either. We got out of bed and we headed for the exit, in order to find a means of transport to get us to the destination. I said that this destination was unknown to us until then. We started getting to the other side of the road.
A white car came to rest just meters from where we were. The driver got out and asked us if we had seen two people with packages in hand, and he added, "The King sent me to fetch two people who, in principle, should be there." My friend and I eagerly replied that we must be that two persons he was looking for. The driver stared at us for a moment without saying anything, returned to his car and left.
After starting the car, our attention was drawn to a group of people who were making a lot of noise, beating their chests while lamenting. Without noticing our presence, they passed us and entered the room where we came out from. Inside, they kept making more noise than they did outside. Grouped around the two beds they bustled around in lamenting still more, looking at the two elongated shapes on the beds.
Since the noise they made exasperated us, I approached one of them for him to explain the reason for all the noise. I touched him and asked him the reason for all the noise. The other did not even glance in my direction. I went to find another one in the same group. The reaction of this second person was the same as the first. I wanted to contact a third person when my companion intervened and told me to stop. He added, “Do not you see that they cannot see us, or feel, or hear us? If they cannot see us, smell us or hear us means that we are dead.”
This deduction by my companion put him at unease. Annoyed with what he said earlier, he countered, “We're not dead and we will never die, at least in my case. I am alive and I will not die!”
But hearing the tone of his voice and seeing the calmness with which he spoke, I could no longer doubt that I was dead. Convinced, I said nothing and went back to take my place on the roadside, beside him. Later, the people in question departed from the hospital, carrying two packages.
A long moment passed without any incident to disturb our tranquility. Then came another vehicle, a bus this time, that stopped near to where we were. The driver, without leaving his vehicle, asked us the question of whether it was good for us, and were we the two passengers that he was ordered to return with his vehicle? Our answer was affirmative. Astonished at our answer, he went away disappointed.
The silence was broken by a voice coming from above us and saying, "Christian Women, African Christian Women." Raising our eyes in the direction where the voice came, we saw a big ship, a ship that sailed into space!
The passengers on the boat were black women, all wearing white handkerchiefs. On the boat was set a Jesus flag. When they saw us, the women waved their handkerchiefs in our direction, and sang a melody which reads, "The flag of Jésus floats and shows us the way to heaven." We stood gazing at the ship, which disappeared with passengers in the clouds. We responded to their greetings by waving our hands.
Long after the ship is gone, I put this question to my companion, 'My dear, you who say we're not dead, have you ever seen a boat sailing in the air?”
“Me, not yet, it is only here that I see such things.”
“Then, have you heard the words of the song of the women who greeted us in the boat, just now? "The flag of Jesus shows us the way that leads to heaven." Have you ever heard this before, you who pretend not to know death? "
In response, after smiling like someone who pities, he said, “If you're thinking you have died, I do not know, dear. But if you want us to talk about something else, please do, because I do not know what you mean, and I do not want to explain it to you anyway.”
I felt ridiculous at the attitude of my friend. Every answer he gave me, I felt the futility of my insistence. So I said nothing, and I resigned myself to not cause him trouble with my questions.
A loud noise startled us: it was a great aircraft. I called it an airline for a better understanding, but in reality, it was not a plane. The plane in question, therefore, came to rest just meters away from where we were. The driver got out of his cab and waved to my friend to go on board. The latter did not think twice. He entered without protocol. I was also about to enter when I saw the door slam in my face. The pilot, using a microphone, said he had not received specific instructions about me; he told me he had to wait for the decision of the King, who had to spend a while at another location. Inside the craft, my companion was following my argument with the driver.
Suddenly, a loud voice was heard, "THE KING!"
All of a sudden, the KING appeared. His body was transparent as crystal, that is to say, our eyes could see across His body easily and clearly see objects that were on the other side. He was handsome and had the stature of a normal man. Someone came out of the plane clutching a document in which He read all my past life. It described all my actions, since the day I became aware until I sent the young man to tell my family to hurry to the hospital. The KING followed everything without a word and then at the end, He made a negative nod. He uttered no word. Then He disappeared. At the same moment, the plane took off, taking my companion. While it was going, great sorrow filled my heart! I stood alone, abandoned. This sense of isolation was so bad that I felt like crying.
But all at once I heard a distant voice saying, "JESUS CHRIST, JUDGE OF THE DEAD! JESUS CHRIST, JUDGE OF THE DEAD! JESUS CHRIST, JUDGE OF THE DEAD!" This voice came to me and amplified so that the third time I felt like my eardrums were bursting. No longer, and in a final effort, I woke up!
A RESURRECTION AT YANGAMBI!
So I was alive! When I opened my eyes, the first thing I noticed was the palm branches hanging over my head. When I turned my head around, instantly there were two movements in the crowd that was around me: those who were close fled, running away from me so that those who were distant approached to see why the others were fleeing. So there were two simultaneous movements. It was time for contemplation and admiration. Personally, I did not understand what was happening.
There were several people around me. Among them, I recognized some faces. To my left, there was a casket with all the elements ready for burial: there were many white sheets, pillows, and some of my clothes. I was wearing a suit that I did not remember to have ever worn.
I had white socks and white gloves on my hands. Everything smelled perfume. The flask was also placed beside the coffin. It was nearly fourteen hours when I came back to life. Candles glowed around the coffin. When I realized what had happened, a great joy flooded my heart. I was dead, and now I was alive! When I got up from the bed where I laid, my first words were, "GLORY TO JESUS CHRIST! JESUS CHRIST IS ALIVE!" People around me were astonished, wondering where I had known Jesus.
After this moment of immense joy, I expressed the wish to go to the hospital where I was hospitalized, where I was pronounced dead. When they learned of my resurrection, everyone ran to see me. I had spent more than a day from the dead because I was dead the day before at ten o'clock, and I was alive the day after around two o'clock. My funeral was already being prepared when I returned to life.
En route to the hospital, everyone was astonished that I was talking about JESUS THE SAVIOUR. I felt a force pulling me to the hospital. I did not even know what I would do there. Arriving at the hospital, I was recognized by the patients as someone who had died earlier as they were there the day before. Without taking care of what they said, I cried aloud, "GLORY TO JESUS CHRIST! JESUS CHRIST IS ALIVE!" These words, spoken around three hours in a hospital in Yanganibi produced a great miracle.
All the patients were cured. All, without exception! Even those who had been operated in the afternoon of the same day were healed and the doctors were amazed! One of them, Dr. Baylo approached a former patient that he himself had attended to in the afternoon. But, seeing the patient jumping and running with joy, he thought he had gone mad, in addition to his illness, or that it was himself who was going crazy. To verify one patient who claimed to be healed, he called him and forced him to undress. This physical examination caused the doctor to acknowledge that He who had formed the body of the man with the dust of the earth also healed this patient - JESUS! There remained no scars nor any trace of any surgery.
It was a miracle! A true one, anyway or anyhow you look at it! The doctor did not know what to think or say. Of course, he knew definitely what a miracle was, but it was never manifested in such a way before in his life as a doctor. That day, the opportunity was given to him to see one, and he believed. Later, he was baptized by immersion in the name of JESUS! Without patients, the hospital was empty.
After this great miracle, I remembered my companion, who had flown away in the plane of the Great King Jesus. I expressed the hope of Christ in us that brings us home to heaven. I saw the grief of this companion's relatives was in full swing. I approached his relatives and asked them to listen. When they recognized me, they were silent. I advised them not to weep, but to rejoice because their deceased parent was in a "good" place where he was taken to after his death. I explained what had happened, and how I had trouble understanding the deceased when we were both dead. How my fellow deceased companion advised me not to try to find out why the mourners were making such loud noises of lamentation. I made them understand that crying and lamentation doesn't do anything for the dead. Everything they had needed was the peace and quiet. I also explained to them how the Great King had sent a plane to transport their deceased relative that they were crying for. They all listened to me intensely. Nobody dared to interrupt me while I was speaking. At the end of my story, everyone stopped crying. It was time to bury the body of my companion.
Although weakened by illness, I also carried the coffin of my friend. I thought to myself, "If I was still in magic, I would not be able to see the spirit of this companion!" Arriving at the cemetery, there were two holes dug in the ground in one place. One was meant for me, and the other was for my companion. Our graves were adjoining because we had died the same day. The view from my grave aroused in me the same feelings of desolation that I felt when the plane took off, taking my friend.
Fatigue, hunger, and grief finally broke the little strength I had left again. Remembering the departure of my companion, I wept. Why was I alive? To suffer even in this world? My body needed a lot of rest and food. I fell for lack of energy, and I fainted! Fainted, they brought me home. I regained consciousness along the way.
NEXT: Lisungi Mbula 7 Recovery
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