By Besa Mwaba

The Zambian online media may well have been splashing a humorous twist to their reporting when they quoted a Solwezi resident as saying that the flight failure of President Lungu’s helicopter last week was a juju attack, but from the readers’ comments one could easily conclude that the assertion was not entirely taken as a joke.
Belief in the capacity of a human being to enlist supernatural assistance cuts across all cultures. What differs however is the form that a particular belief manifests itself.
In most African cultures, the admitted propensity toward the usage of juju lies in a strong belief in its ability to enhance one’s natural abilities to attain a goal. This is more so when bread and butter issues are at play. In Africa, as is the case with other areas beyond, politics are a source of bread and butter. Therein, the practices of juju abound.
An interesting example involves how people perceived Adamson Mushala’s political ambitions and his ability to evade the Zambian security forces in the 70s while waging a guerilla war. It was widely held that Mushala could appear and disappear at will to terrorize villagers in the mineral rich North Western region of Zambia. At least one narration which spread like wild fire was that he could even enter state house undetected, have a meal with the president (undetected) and then afterwards leave a thank you note on the dining table.
In the minds of Zambians, it created a picture of a merciless, evil, dangerous and daring terrorist with supernatural connections. The idea was to paint him as public enemy number one.
What was omitted in these narrations however is that Mushala, like other independence fighters, expected a job from the Government. When that failed to materialize, other considerations came in. He left UNIP and joined the UP. When UP was banned he crossed the border to train in guerilla warfare. He horned his skills in South Africa before reentering Zambia as a rebel with a group numbering not more than two dozen fighters. Many natives of the North Western region viewed him as some kind of “Robin Hood” in that his declared mission was to rob the rich in order to distribute to the poor, although in reality, it is fair to state that the poor never saw much of what he got from the wealthy.
It is also a fair opinion to believe that rather than (or in addition to) relying on the use of juju, Mushala was an exceptionally well trained dissident. Some of his advanced tactics may well have been difficult for the security forces to cope with. And if taken into consideration that the his operational area was vast featureless bush, it is easily understandable that juju, rather than comparative incompetence, was cited as the reason behind their failure to capture him for seven years.
Supernatural intervention is also often cited when someone finds herself in a vantage position through hard work. When one is very determined and utterly focused on attaining a goal, outcomes that seem miraculous may be yielded.
Take the Zambia nation team at AFCON 2012 as an example. Their performance was nothing short of miraculous. With a pacey, glittering and devastating approach, Zambia was able to put to the sword accomplished teams like Senegal, Ivory Coast, Ghana and Equatorial Guinea. What was behind it all?
Well a day before the final match, the team was taken to the Atlantic shore where their colleagues had perished in 1993. Their mission was to conduct a memorial service as well as to “connect” the two teams. The overwhelming impression created was that some spirits were behind the Zambian success story.
Omitted from these narrations is the fact that the players themselves had decided that 2012 was their year. Most were nearing their career end, and they felt that winning the trophy in the land where their predecessors had perished would be the most fitting closure. To a superstitious onlooker, however it was “obvious” that spirits were driving the team’s fortunes.
Believing that supernatural intervention can enhance one’s natural abilities is one thing. But using that ability to harm others is an entirely contentious matter altogether. This perception of juju being employed to cause harm to an opponent has led to violence in many places. In Zambia it led to the premature halt to the wrestling match between Zambian William “Tiger boy” Nkandu and Congolese Lubandi Muloji Wa Baloji in February 2005.
A well marketed event, the wrestling match attracted a huge number of spectators from all walks of life to the Mulungushi international conference centre. In the midst of the usual euphoria and morale boosting atmosphere, Muloji entered the ring covered in powder and carrying what he said were charms. His appearance wasn’t sportsmanlike either. Lacking the physique of a bodybuilder, he paced around the ring in a trance-like style, with his attire deliberately meant to invoke mental images of a traditional juju practitioner. His first act was to swing his towel towards his opponent. His opponent as well as the referee fell to the floor.
Throughout the match, “strange” events continued happening, not unlike two people who were merely acting out a movie. Muloji sank into a rhythmic dance-like movement as he sized Nkandu. He would strike a head butt into thin air, only for Nkandu- standing at two metres away- to fall down without any physical contact. Even the referee received one devastating head butt from Muloji through “bluetooth.” Down he went too, dazed.
Soon the audience got disillusioned and started hurling insults and threats at Muloji. The unorthodox wrestling match somehow continued as per its strange script notwithstanding the displeasure of its spectators. And when the insults became too much to ignore, Muloji stopped in mid dance, turned his attention to the spectators and began pulling an invisible rope towards him. A spectator, appearing hypnotized, found himself “sliding” into the ring towards Muloji. The crowd- terrified at the worsening possibilities before them- stopped their insults at once and instead started chanting “Jesus! Jesus!”
In a Christian nation, whose sports minister was a reverend, that event could not in any way be allowed to continue, it was reasoned.
The match was stopped after an official lost consciousness. Spectators found it neither entertaining nor funny. They had paid to watch an international wrestling match, not magic or role playing. Muloji went back to his hotel but even there, he was no longer a welcome foreign guest. He was persuaded to seek alternative accommodation elsewhere.
Whether or not Muloji was ever paid for that performance is anyone’s guess.
In conclusion, perceptions of supernatural intervention in the case of Mushala, the Zambia soccer (AFCON 2012) and also Muloji are by no means the only ones to have pressed the media into a frenzy. What they illustrate however is that the overwhelming majority of Zambians are believers in the possibility of supernatural intervention in the human society to tilt the balance one way or the other. While others may look to the God of Christianity to attain this, others look to the God of Islam, Hindu, Buddha, Shinto, Judaism etc. Yet others seek intervention from their ancestors, from trees, from mountains and rivers. Its a sensitive and personal issue. But society works that way.
Our role is to respect others’ beliefs and to document events as they happen.