Chapter 11- How I Conquered, And Overpowered This Evil

<body topmargin=0 leftmargin=0 marginheight=0 marginwidth=0> <table cellpadding=0 cellspacing=0 border=0><tr> <td valign="top" colspan=2 height=148 BGCOLOR="#006699" TEXT="#080000" background="0c3085a3.jpg"> <div> <B>West Cliffe</B></div> <div> <B>Jamaica~Noamie's Negril.Com</B></div> <div> <B><IMG SRC="2fe58010.gif" border=0 width="600" height="1" ALIGN="BOTTOM" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0"></B></div> <div> <FONT SIZE="4" COLOR="#EEEEEE" FACE="Eurostile" ><B>                           Noamie's - Jamaican Tea Room...An Innovative Walk into Traveling & Reality </B></FONT><I><B>      </B></I><FONT SIZE="3" COLOR="#CCCCE4" FACE="Eurostile" ><A HREF="index.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Jamaica Noamies Negril.Com "><U><B>Home </B></U></A></FONT><FONT SIZE="4" COLOR="#CCCCE4" FACE="Eurostile" ><B> </B></FONT><I><B>         </B></I></div> <bR> <bR> <bR> <div> </div> </td> </tr><tr> <td valign="top" width=210 BGCOLOR="#FFFFFF" TEXT="#080000" background="0c4d2e83.jpg"> <div> Memories</div> <div> <IMG SRC="36a65860.jpg" border=0 width="101" height="134" ALIGN="BOTTOM" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0"></div> <div> <A HREF="id57.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Memories"><U>Memories</U></A></div> <bR> <div> Who is <A HREF="id2.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Who is Noamie?"><U>Noamie?</U></A></div> <bR> <div> <A HREF="id74.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="The Frog That Would Not Let Me Forget"><U><B>A Frog That Would Not Let me Forget</B></U></A></div> <bR> <bR> <div> <A HREF="id3.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Along The Way My Path"><U><B>Along the Way-My Path</B></U></A></div> <bR> <div> <A HREF="id16.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="The Man Who Had Sets Out to Ruining My M"><U><B>The man who had sets out to Ruin-ing my Military Career</B></U></A></div> <bR> <bR> <div> West Cliffe:</div> <div>  The Road That Got Us <A HREF="id20.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Chapter 2 1990: It Was April It Was East"><U>Here</U></A></div> <bR> <bR> <div> <A HREF="id29.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Negrils Chronicle"><U>Negril's Chronicle</U></A></div> <bR> <div>  <FONT SIZE="5" COLOR="#FF66FF" FACE="Dauphin" ><A HREF="index.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Jamaica Noamies Negril.Com "><U><B>Country Road</B></U></A></FONT></div> <bR> <bR> <div> <A HREF="id4.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="West Cliffe The Place I Called Home"><U><B>Cross Road</B></U></A></div> <bR> <bR> </td> <td valign="top" height=332 BGCOLOR="#FFFFFF" TEXT="#080000"> <div> <I>Chapter 11- How I Conquered, And Overpowered This Evil </I></div> <bR> <DIV ALIGN="LEFT"></DIV> <div> <B><IMG SRC="0f701370.png" border=0 width="257" height="55" ALIGN="BOTTOM" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0"></B><FONT SIZE="2" COLOR="#000000" FACE="Tahoma" ><B>    </B></FONT></div> <div> <B>Chapter Eleven </B></div> <bR> <div> <I><B><IMG SRC="28e82610.jpg" border=0 width="130" height="97" ALIGN="BOTTOM" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0"></B></I></div> <bR> <div> <B>West Cliffe     Chapter 11</B></div> <div> <B>How I conquered, and overpowered this evil -</B>  </div> <div> <B>Witchcraft and its Powers:  </B></div> <bR> <div> <B><U>How I Conquered, And Overpowered This Evil:</U></B><FONT SIZE="3" COLOR="#6666CC" FACE="Baskerville Old Face" > </FONT></div> <bR> <div> <B>T</B><B>he first time I met Satan was on an early morning, [1973/1974] on my way to school in Little London. Lyton's van had broken down, and so the task of having to walk all the way from Tilbury to Negril Spot was a long one and required that I got up even an hour earlier, in order to make the journey by foot. Since school starts at 7:00A.M. morning shift, I must be at Negril Spot no later than 6.15, to catch a bus that wasn't completely full. Sonia, my friend would make sure that here's a seat for me, or that the bus driver stop to pick me up, even if is only a standing 'seat' for me.</B></div> <bR> <div> <B>The moon was still shining that early morning as I made my way at 5.15AM on that solo walk. I was never afraid of anything. There, approaching this little stretch, going towards 'Wash-Wash', I saw what appears to be a shadowy thing in the road. I assume that it was from an old cardboard box that was left in the road by someone. No fear, I approached. It was only, when I was upon the object that, that the object turns into a huge black dog-like image and began growing. It began raising up about 5-6 feet in the air, like I have never seen anything, before. Only a groan could escape my lips. I ran, I cried, it was too early, and there I was all alone on this road. I began running as if I couldn't stop. </B></div> <bR> <div> <B>Witchcraft And Its Powers:</B><B> </B></div> <div> <B>This is no joke.  Let me state clearly 'here', that evil do exist. I having seen and experience the power of witchcraft, that Jamaicans referred to as Obeah. It cannot hurt me, and even those who tried to use it on me, to control my mind, had failed, and miserably. However, note that this evil will and can take roots. </B></div> <div> <B>The power of evil is able to kill, it is able to destroy and it is able to making ones life miserable. A thing that brings on deep fear, and death. </B></div> <div> <B>When I was to be born, my father named me ~ Noamie~ .My mother went and register me~Norma~ Thus I answered to both names. </B></div> <bR> <div> <B>When I went to be christened, the priest changes the order of my life. He became my Godfather and the Church Elder became my Godmother. So my dear sweet cousin Mag Gordon became my second Godmother, instead of the first. In a community, a district where the Elders preside, no one questions the reality behind anyone elders doing. After all, it is from the elders of Orange Hill, that we the generations that follows found wisdom. Except, I must point out, that there are times when it is said that: "Wisdom comes with age, except for some, age came alone."</B></div> <bR> <bR> <div> <B>West Cliffe  </B></div> <div> <B>How I conquered, and overpowered this evil -</B><B> </B></div> <div> <B>Witchcraft and its Powers: ~71 </B></div> <bR> <bR> <bR> <div> <B>It was the Priest stern warning that would come back to remind me that I was a special child and that no harm can come upon me. It was with that for all times that, poison had failed to kill me, set by my mother. You see, even that cannot kill me, as for the first time, I will tell it that I will vomit up anything that is poisonous. I have on two occasions. </B></div> <div> <B>For the first time, here, people will now know why I didn't die, years ago. I never tell it. It wasn't for me to tell. Thus, I know first hand the power of evil, in all dimensions.</B></div> <bR> <bR> <bR> <div> <B><U>Escaping into the mental World:</U></B><B> </B></div> <div> <B>Seeing the work of Obeah, First- Hand.</B></div> <div> <B>It was Amazing to discover just how `dirty' your own people are. </B></div> <bR> <div> <B>In 1990, while lingering in Jamaica, Negril, I set out to conduct an experiment. I went out pretending that I was mentally ill, just so that I could listen to my enemies and hear what were been said about me, since there were few that seek to hurt me. I had two persons who would try to get the news, for me. </B></div> <div> <B>However, upon their approached, people would stop talking. </B></div> <div> <B>The question was why did some people want me dead? What have I done, to others, than to be me and the loving person that I would like to be? I having no care for material things, and or otherwise wish to be bothered with the opposite sex for whatever. </B></div> <bR> <bR> <bR> <div> <B>West Cliffe</B></div> <div> <B>Chapter 11 </B></div> <div> <B>How I conquered, and overpowered this evil -</B><B>  </B></div> <div> <B>Witchcraft and its Powers: ~72</B></div> <bR> <bR> <bR> <div> <B>I was told that my beauty holds the key. To me, beauty was not what I am about. So, here was my own task of finding out for myself. My associates and I had laugh at this so many times that it became 'our joke' as they would ask me, upon one of my silent mentally ill, walk, what I have learnt today. When I told them the story, they were angry for me; yet, they too had to laugh at this madness, although they were somewhat upset that 'this person' would want to hurt me. </B></div> <div> <B>..................</B><B> </B></div> <div> <B>I had laughed my ass off inside, as once, the very person who seek my hurt, came up to my face, looking me in the eyes, as I walked, trying to see if ' the sign of his predicted madness by the process of witchcraft-obeah' was at work. I was a good actress, and manage to not even blink my eyes. </B></div> <bR> <div> <B>Let me point out to you that people who practice witchcraft-obeah, always ends up, or rather sell their soul to the devil, and thus, becomes empty, empty of the goodness of God. Thus they become like Satan themselves, walking the earth, seeking souls, so that they will have a little 'light.' Since there is no hope for them, they knows nothing but what they know, that which is evil. They cannot change. They will not change. They had already completed their path and lot with God, to the point of no returning, Thus; there's nothing in them. </B></div> <bR> <div> <B>Such is this person. Such is the</B><B> Prince of Darkness.</B></div> <div> <B>I wasn't surprise that this person came after me, and the way he did it. What was shocking to me, at first, was that he would have gone that route, claiming that he loves me. Perhaps, in his own way, he does. Baffling! </B></div> <div> <B>(Defining the meaning of Love)</B></div> <bR> <div> <B>Later, as I overcome this evil struggle, I would have Jamaicans coming into the yard, and quizzing my grandmother, in asking her, what obeah-man have I gone to, to rid myself of that which had come upon me. </B></div> <div> <B>They too wanted to go where I have been; (I am still laughing, as you can imagine). "Fucking idiot them", is normally, my off-the-wall remarks to my grandmother after the fools left the yards. Behind the Jamaican Mask, lies this evil.</B></div> <bR> <div> <B>It was exactly 3.46PM, yesterday June 23, 2004 that I stood in the kitchen trying to get dinner going. I heard a hush sound as a gentle breeze came ushering in. There was stillness as I looked up, seeing no one. Suddenly, images of my grandfather came to me. It has been 23 years, and yet it seems just like yesterday. I still see his smiles. I wonder to myself what is happening. Yesterday would have been Grandfather's birthday. </B></div> <div> <B>Then I think back. </B></div> <bR> <bR> <bR> <div> <B>West Cliffe -</B></div> <div> <B>How I conquered, and overpowered this evil -</B><B>  </B></div> <div> <B>Witchcraft and its Powers: ~73 </B></div> <bR> <bR> <bR> <div> <B>October 14, 1979: The Death of Grampa</B></div> <bR> <div> <B>It was October 14, 1979, as a part of my family had prepared to leave Jamaica, to come and live in the United States. Amongst the entire hustling and bustling, and final farewell, grandfather had got lost in the shuffle. He had locked himself in a room, and as we said farewell, no one realized that he was missing. He didn't want to be noticed. For me, that morning was even more special. I did my farewell walk out to West Cliffe. Gently, I had wiped the tears as they came falling. </B></div> <div> <B>Constance stood and watched me from the hillside of her house. No one spoke. The morning, I still got up and did my chores. I washed the verandah, and even as the tears were flowing, I would wipe my eyes and managed to smile, as people passing by wouldn't have me to forget that today, I would be leaving. Actually, today no longer belongs to me, for come 2PM, American Airline will take me to America, my new home. </B></div> <bR> <div> <B>While everyone said his or her good-byes, I sang to myself. I had refused to cry. A new chapter in my life was about to begin something that I had braced myself for. Something that my father and grandparent had been preparing me for.  I didn't want to leave. However, respect to my elder's dictates. My father had worked very hard to see this day. He had dreams for his family. Thus, my mother, my two sisters and myself must begin the first phase of life in America.  A life that would have come to write its own story. A time, a day, a year, a moment, when I would want to go back and question my very birth, my very existence.  </B></div> <bR> <bR> <div> <B>Sunday Morning October 14, 1979 appears to hold a difference. Dr. Molyneaux had said his goodbye to me the night before. Our only intimacy was warm gentle hugs. Strange as it may sound, that was all we did. For the best, no words could explain our separation to come. It was exactly three weeks later, that my brother made the call. Grandfather had an accident. A truck had hit him off his donkey, and his situation wasn't looking good.  Grandfather would lay unconscious in the hospital. We were told that he wasn't doing anything much. Grandmother would go to see him, and Uncle Gyle would do his daily visit, on his daily trips into Sav-la-mar. Distraught, I called Dr. Molyneaux and forced something that he would and didn't want to say to me. "No, your grandfather isn't well." The morning Grandfather did open his eyes, briefly, to look at Grandmother, the moment he passed. I would return to Jamaica November 13, 1978 to bury my grandfather. I was not happy.</B></div> <bR> <div> <B>Within my third week on the job, I would face some of the saddest days of my life. I came home one night, only to hear the bad news. Grandfather had passed. </B></div> <div> <B>I would return to Jamaica, again the following year, November 13, 1980 to bury my father, exactly a year to date. </B></div> <bR> <bR> <div> <B>West Cliffe-</B></div> <div> <B>Chapter 11</B></div> <div> <B>How I conquered, and overpowered this evil -</B></div> <div> <B>Witchcraft and its Powers: ~74 </B></div> <bR> <bR> <bR> <bR> <bR> <div> <B>My pain lies deep. Deep in that at the autopsy that I was present, we were to learn that my grandfather had died, not from his wounds, instead he died from hunger. How was that possible, when my grandfather was in a hospital, the place that cared for the sick? How as it that no one noticed that the IV drip level wasn't moving. Who was responsible for recording of change intravenous bags on his chart? Never the less, the pain of my grandfather loss was at the forefront of my mind. </B></div> <div> <B>Wasn't his son, my uncle supposes to have been visiting the hospital everyday? Didn't he notice stranger things?</B></div> <bR> <div> <B>The naked fact was that, my grandfather, the man I knew, loved and thinks the world of, my cherished father was gone. The pain was all too much for me to bear. Suddenly, the deep love I had held for my grandmother had dwindled to a likeness bordering on a kind of hate-anger. How could she have allowed my grandfather to die from hunger? I couldn't hate her, but I couldn't love her the way I once did either. It was a terrible world to have found myself in. Is it possible? It would be years, with the help of a therapist that I would learn to unwearied this tangled pain. It turns out that while Uncle Gyle should have been paying attention to his father, he was busy visiting obeah-man, and of which could have plunged Grandfather into another dept of evil. Thus, the evil he brought back would have further suck the life, the very blood from my poor grandfather, as he lay helpless on a hospital bed there at the Sav-la-mar hospital.</B></div> <div> <B> </B></div> <div> <B>It was here that I would begin bottling my love. I went looking for answers. My grandfather was my hero, the man who was my father, long before I met my real biological father. My grandfather gave me my first dog. My dog, that would take me to him any where he was, in the wilderness of Injun Head Mountain. </B></div> <DIV ALIGN="LEFT"></DIV> <div> <I><B><IMG SRC="28e82610.jpg" border=0 width="130" height="97" ALIGN="BOTTOM" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0"></B></I></div> <div> <B><IMG SRC="100901f0.jpg" border=0 width="400" height="287" ALIGN="BOTTOM" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0"></B></div> <div> <B>We only walk this way but once...</B><FONT SIZE="3" COLOR="#6666CC" FACE="Arial" > </FONT></div> <bR> <div> <I>"</I><FONT SIZE="2" COLOR="#6666CC" FACE="Comic Sans MS" ><I>There was a child went forth every day, and the first object he looked upon, that object he became.."~W.Whitman~</I></FONT></div> <DIV ALIGN="LEFT"></DIV> <div> <IMG SRC="29072750.jpg" border=0 width="114" height="117" ALIGN="BOTTOM" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0"></div> <bR> <bR> <div> <TABLE BORDER="2" CELLPADDING="1" CELLSPACING="1" WIDTH="688" BORDERCOLORLIGHT="#C0C0C0" BORDERCOLORDARK="#808080" FRAME="BOX" RULES="ALL" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0" > <tR> <tD VALIGN=CENTER BGCOLOR=#000000 HEIGHT= 57 WIDTH="678"><div> <I><B>This site and its pages are Copyright 1998-2008. 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