I had written the part 1 of Generational curses and posted it read here, but prior to that post I had already written this story. I did so in an attempt to show you all one way how this thing can affect a person/families through their lineage. There are many circumstances, but to write on them all would be too much for me, and also the audience here is slightly non-responsive, mostly preferring to email me instead of dialoguing on the post itself, they may be shy. I had kept it in draft, turned off from posting this second part, but today my daughter brought to my attention someone high profile who is ill, a young man. When I read his story, I realize that what was affecting his health was created from a generational curse. She wanted us to help him, even though we don’t know him and perhaps may never know him because of his celebrity status. After she left my room, I could not concentrate on anything else other than this young man, (having too much compassion can be stressful, and at times it can work against you, sorry to say). It touched me to see what he was going through, I ache for so many who are hurt, sick or sad. I will help him, even from afar and without him knowing us. We are all our brothers keeper, we must help each other. I have dug this discarded post out of draft just for this purpose, to help you all, through story form, of understanding the horror of generational curses and how they impact families. It is real.
Ronald received a call from his sister that her son had just gotten arrested again. This was the third time for the year the boy got in trouble, but why, he was a good behaving boy. He had asked her what was the reason, she had told him she did not know, but he should come with her to the precinct as she was just too tired of all the happenings that had been going on with her children, she sounded so pitiful on the phone. While he got dressed to go he began to wonder why his family had so many problems within it. Although financially life had been ok with him, he had yet to settle down and be happy with his own family.
He had three brothers all one mother and father, Lucricia was the only sister. His three brothers had all died in prison, and only one of them really did commit the act he was accused of and that was Robbie. Robbie was so tired of the life he was living, hardly able to take care of himself, he began hustling in the streets selling crack. The money was fast and plenty, he began messing with some other people who was into all kind of things, when the problem came, they all left him holding the bag of blame. He spent five years in prison before he was killed there, attacked by some gang. He did not want to even think of Jermaine’s and Roger’s case and how they were set up for rape. Jermaine had hung himself to death and Roger had starved himself, gotten ill and died. It was after that the you lady confessed that she lied on them both, guilt, he guessed. Only he, so far had been able to live some semblance of what is perceived as a normal life. But his family tragedy plagued his mind.
He was the oldest, the first born and even he had his own obstacles (minor everyday ones), but not what he had seen happen to his siblings. Lucricia had two sons and a daughter. All her children and her had a rough go at life, she suffered from depression and anxiety. Her daughter had run away. Faye had become an alcoholic and a drug addict by the time she got to sixteen years old, and there were rumors of her prostituting her self out to older men. Her mother had asked Ronnie to intervene and he had by trying to get her into rehab and some programs, but a few days later the girls had ran away, missing, gone, never heard from again. JonJon her first born was locked up in the psyche ward since he was 14.
He had been given PCP laced in weed and he had never been the same since. For a while it seemed as if Craig, the one who she just called about would come out different from his siblings, but just recently he too began to have problems with the law. He seemed to attract them, as got locked up for foolish reasons, which most often warranted him being let out at the precinct, never going before a judge, so what was it this time? He was growing tired of this. Lucricia called him for everything, and he didn’t mind being there for her, she was weak minded, she could not handle pressure, but now as he looked his family life over it was filled with tragedy and it seemed to not have a way of ending. Should he be suspicious? His girlfriend has suggested he get a reading done, but he didn’t believe in them things, never the less he had gone with her to get one. “Hocus Pocus foolishness!” his mother use to say, “soothsayers all of them and the Bible speaks against these kind of people, false prophets.”
He wasn’t a religious man, he didn’t even own a bible he chuckled to himself, as he zipped his pants and proceeded to put his belt on. Earlene his aunt would have had a heart attack if she knew he didn’t own a bible, god bless her soul. He sighed as he thought of aunt Earlene and his parents. They had all died together on a Church bus trip coming home from Canada. Everybody in the bus had died that day tragically. The driver had tried to hit the brake and a coffee mug had rolled under it as he careened around a very steep corner. It was tragic, all but one person died. Ronald then had to deal with his cousin, Earlene’s daughter losing bother her legs to diabetes some years later and her son accidentally drowning. So much tragedy!, He shook his head as if to shake off the memory.
He had gone to the psychic or reader, whatever they are called, and while he dressed to go meet Lucricia, he had to sit on the bed for a moment as he remembered the meeting and what this woman Obara Meji told him. Obara Meji, he remembered thinking when he first heard her name, what the hell kind of name was that! Regardless of her name, she had stuck in his mind.
She didn’t look like a psychic, he thought to himself, as she directed him to sit at her table where she had a white candle burning and a crystal bowl of water, along with a piece of paper and pencil. She did the reading at her home which was light, clean and airy. She was Jamaican and looked it, whatever that meant. She had that dancehall queen something about her, she certainly didn’t look like Miss Cleo, weren’t they suppose to look old and motherly? As he thought this she looked up at him and smiled slyly. He wondered if she heard his thoughts, she seemed as if she did, her bold hard stare didn’t help and perhaps he blushed a little under her gaze. Blush?, no, he would never admit it. He had cleared his throat, as if to erase his thoughts. A hint of incense was in the air, a pleasant smell. She was dressed in full white and had a summer fresh scent coming from her.
“What is yuh name and gimme yuh date ah birth”, she commanded in her strong Jamaican accent. He thought “commanded” because there was power to her voice, he wondered why she needed all that, but blurted the information out nevertheless.
“Ronald P.J. Rawlings, October, 12th 1969”, he said almost defiantly, he did not want to be here and was surprised to hear her say. “Yuh can go if yuh want yuh nuh, who force bring yuh come? He was taken a back by this as she stopped writing and looked him square in his face, as if waiting for him to get up and go.
As she looked at him, she felt a slight sadness, humans are still asleep, she shook her head inwardly and sighed audibly.
“Listen to me Ronald”, she began, speaking slowly. “It is ok if you don’t believe, it is fine to be a skeptic, I use to be one also, perhaps mi still is (a soft chuckle came from her when she said this), a doubtful Thomas as Christian people says, but mi don’t want to read nobody who don’t want to get read. I would rather the person to be relaxed. So mek up yuh mind yuh want to do this”.
He was surprised at her candor, and secretly appreciated it, and for a moment he experienced a slight shiver within, no shudder not shiver, he was a man after all. He wanted to leave, but she made him curious, no he would stay. She did not try to convince him, rather it seemed as if she would be glad if he chose to leave. “No mam, No one forced me here, I just want to know what is going on in my life and with my family” he stated firmly
She stared at him for another couple of seconds and then began to write something on the paper before her. She now began to speak.
“Ronald, yuh family unda a curse, a generational curse”, she looked up at him as he exclaimed “huh?” and then continued.
“Long ago your family from your mothers side were involved in some business it look to me like farming”.
“Yeah, my mother’s family were farmers”, he said.
“Your mothers parents were from another country not from America” Obara continued. “Uh huh” Ronald agreed nodding his head, thinking although she did not ask a question, he stopped short of telling her where.
“There was some land dispute between them and some other family members and a big war ensued, it never ended and upon the head of the family’s dying breath he cursed your mothers family, your family has been suffering ever since.” she concluded
All of this was new to Ronald, Generational curse? he thought in his mind. “Wow”, he exclaimed to himself.
He had never thought of this , never even considered the idea and wondered if he should believe this, he quickly cast his eyes on her, wondering if she heard his thought, her face was unreadable. Still yet even she had to realize that this was a little hard to take in. Some bitter person on his dying breath could curse a generation so well that years after people are still being affected? Where was God in all of this? he wondered
He asked her the same questions he was thinking.
Obara Meji looked up at him and smiled sadly, “Ronald, the affairs of man are his own, God knows we are here for lessons, and have given us free will to do as we please. These things have been happening since the beginning of time. There are consequences however, every man knows right from wrong and will reap the benefits of his actions. Some people cannot help their feelings, and revenge and vengeance is very real in the heart and mind of men. Hard as it is to fathom, some curses are just. The cursed really offended the one who cursed him, and so the family will pay for however long.
“Is that the case with my family” he asked
“I frankly don’t know”, she told him, but she did. Through her years of experience, she had learned that not everything must be shared, especially those that would hurt. He was already in a confused state, why burden him.
“Be grateful that you are hearing this, one has to live to tell the tale and also you have a good head, which will lead you to break the curse”, she said. “Probably yuh ah de chosen one” she mumbled not intending for him to hear.
Ronald was brought back to reality by his phone ringing, it was Lucricia. He grabbed his keys and headed to the door. It had been three weeks since he saw Obara, he thought as he drove out of his drive way. The information was too much to bear, he had tried to push it from his mind. Yet here he was heading to the station again. Perhaps she is right, he thought. Perhaps this really is a curse, a spiritual plague hunting his family, or what’s left of it, he sighed as he signaled a turn.
Here is hoping you have some understanding of what I am trying to convey in this story.
All characters except for me, Obara (Dance hall Queen) Meji, are a fiction of my imagination.
All rights reverved.
Obara Meji is a spiritualist, Ifa-Orisa practitioner, and teacher of metaphysics. Since 2011 she has used her online platform to share her personal experiences to those seeking answers about spirituality. Her teachings will expand into short stories, novels, and public speaking to continue her mission of bringing enlightenment to the world.