THE LOCKDOWN TAPES 4: SANGOMA

PHILIP
Hello dear Amelia listeners, it’s day 45 of confinement here in Paris. And we’re back with another lockdown tape. Before we begin, I want to tell you about a brand new fiction podcast launching next week. Crypto Z is a new series by New York Times bestselling novelist Danielle Trussoni and award winning film maker Hadrien Royo. They sent me a preview of their first episode, and you are in for a treat. It’s a fast paced, deeply immersive sci-fi thriller about a crypto-zoologist called Jane Silver who is sent on a mission to track and capture a human like creature known as the ice-man. You’ll be transported into the wilderness, you will be skiing down a steep mountain and flying through storms on hovercrafts. The first episode alone is a whirlwind of action, suspense and incredible sound design. I’m eager to see where the story goes next. The show launches on Monday 4th of May, so go subscribe now to Crypto-Z, that’s C R Y P T O hyphen ZEDD, or if you’re American, ZEE on your favourite podcatcher to get the show for free as soon as the first episode drops. There’s also a link in the shownotes to this episode. And now, without further ado, it’s time for the new Lockdown Tape.

BEEP.

ALVINA (V.O.)
This is Alvina's phone.

The office is currently closed. We apologize for the inconvenience.

And before you ask: No, we did not have anything to do with the disappearance of the Spanish Flu in 1920, nor the appearance of Covid-19 last year!

We make people disappear.

Occasionally monsters.

If this is Nessie calling, I promise, I was not referring to you. I was talking about war criminals and such. Not... nice, Scottish ladies.

Anyhow! If you're a client, why are you calling me? Leave a message on the official answer phone like everyone else!

Now leave me alone.

BEEP.

AMELIA
Hi Alvina.

Sorry I didn't get back to you before. Your messages just came through.

I fully support your decision to close down the office. Kozlowski doesn't follow anyone's rules but his own. And to be fair, trying to manage the rest of that bunch is a capricious affair, even on a good day.

Salvatore is very tactile... Have you noticed? Not in a nasty way. He's just very physical. He'll lay his hand on a client's back to guide them into the office. Or just rest his hand on your shoulder as you're getting coffee from the espresso machine.

He's a very affectionate mercenary. The best kind.

Only... not at the moment.

I'm sure you're wondering why I haven't been in touch. So I thought I'd call with an update on what's been happening on my end.

And oh my gosh, have things been happening!

I really wanted to tell you in person, but I assume you're busy scaring off seagulls shit-bombing your tent... But I can't keep this to myself anymore, so I'll just have to leave a message! Brace yourself!

The reason I haven't called is because I've been... in hiding! In Africa! In the middle of the rainforest! I've been shot at with a machine gun, I've nearly been trampled by wildebeest, I've stayed in a Royal Palace, I've had an intense tantric experience, and I've suffered five weeks isolated with a disgruntled client.

Meanwhile, I understand the rest of the world has been playing Uno and watching Westworld on repeat. Right now, I'm not sure which I'd prefer.

Did you ever meet Mrs. Nombaku? She was one of our Royal accounts, so probably not. Before I faked her death, she was the princess of Vachanda. And yes, it is the country that inspired the comic book and the film, but you can just calm down. Vachanda is nothing like its fictional counterpart. It is not in East Africa - it borders South Africa, actually - and they spell it with a V and C-H rather than a W and a K. And the whole vibranium thing is a load of bullcrap.

Anyway, we helped the country disappear when South Africa broke free from the Commonwealth in 1934. The Royal family pay us a handsome annual retainer, and in return we keep the country off the maps, off the GPS systems, et cetera. Also, we stay on call in case anyone in the Royal family should need our services.

Like Mrs. Nombaku. N'Yembe. Her new name is N'Yembe Nombaku.

Royal succession is a rather complicated affair in Vachanda. Potentially lethal. That's one area where the comic book and the film aren't too far off the mark.

The potential successors can fight for the throne. N'Yembe didn't particularly want to rule. Her sister did. So, that's where we came into the picture. Fake the fight, kill N'Yembe, sister win's the throne, everyone's happy.

It was supposed to be an easy fix.

Only... her sister's footman was a bad apple. After helping with the disappearance, he started blackmailing N'Yembe, threatening to expose her new identity. We had paid him handsomely, but he got greedy. And when we refused to pay, he got angry.

So, instead of heading home, I had to help N'Yembe ditch her new existence as a community college professor and flee into the rainforest.

Picture this: It's dusk. We're heading for the rainforest. In order not to make any noise, N'Yembe and I are pushing the jeep in front of us. Just as we think we're out of earshot from the village, a flashlight. Only fifty yards away. The footman!

I jump into the car, hit the gas, N'Yembe throws herself onto the truck bed. The footman has seen us and he starts firing at us with an Uzi! We speed into the rainforest, trying to shake him, but he's tailing us on a freaking motorbike!

The bullets blow both back tyres, but I keep going, driving on the rims. N'Yembe is holding on for dear life, but the footman's catching up.

When another bullet hits the rear axel and the back wheels fly off, we grind to a halt. We throw ourselves out of the jeep and head into the rainforest, where, finally, we manage to lose him.

After walking for three days, we get to where we're heading. A sangoma called Tahna Orandozi. She is going to house us in her cabin overnight before taking us to another hiding place where we can lay low for a while.

Sorry, a sangoma is a healer, a medicine man or woman. Amazing people. This Tahna had such a... presence! An energy, like I've, I’ve never experienced.

When we arrived she called the birds to come greet us! She chirped and cooed and seconds later, her whole body was covered in them. Kingfishers, Parrots, Hoopoes, a Red Bishop, even a Vulture landed on her right arm! I mean!

It was so... sexy.

She fed us. Gave us clean clothes. And then she was going to do this ritual. Calling upon the ancestors to keep us safe from anyone looking for us.

To N'Yembe this is clearly old hat, she went into the cabin, came back out half an hour later, looking bored if anything.

Then it was my turn.

I go into the indumba, the sacred healing cabin. All around the cabin there are candles and incense. On a sort of throne at the back wall: Tahna.

The Vachandan tradition demands that the sangoma wears nothing but metal, as a conduit to the spirit world. So there she is. Adorned in massive rings and earrings and necklaces, and nothing else. Looking half as if she's wearing jewelry and half as if she's wearing armor.

She looks like a goddess of war.

Tahna starts drumming and chanting. She gets up and dances around me. I just stand there, in the middle of the room, feeling dizzy. The room starts spinning. Tahna circles me, again and again. The rhythm, the song, it's...

And then she stops. Right in front of my face. Just centimeters between us. Around us, the walls are still spinning, but we are still. And she asks me:

What is your name?

I answer.

What is your surname?

I answer.

Tell me the names of your ancestors!

I tell her.

From nowhere, she is suddenly holding a handful of bones, dice and shells. She throws them up into the air. They land around us. Then she chants the names.

A wind. Like we're high up, in the stratosphere. Clouds. Stars. A voice.

You are safe now, she says. Your ancestor is here.

And it should have been over. I think. But we just stand there. Breathing near each other. And it is the most electrifying, sensual moment.

And then I wake up, as N'Yembe throws a bucket of water in my face. We're outside. I don't know how much time has passed. I just know I can still feel this... trembling. Deep inside. It's quiet, but it's there.

So. Yeah. That was intense.

Next morning we head off to the hiding place.

On the way there we wake up a sleeping herd of wildebeest and nearly get trampled. It was really dramatic, but after telling you about the protective spell... Nah. I can't really top that. We swam across a river and survived.

Once we're installed at the safe house - safe hut - safe shack... there's nothing more to do, really. We just have to wait.

Oh, back in civilization N'Yembe's sister, the newly appointed queen, has ordered her soldiers to hunt down the rogue footman and neutralize him. He's trawling the rainforest looking for us, so it takes them weeks to find him. In the meantime we just have to lay low and wait for Tahna to come get us once everything's safe.

Huh… N’Yembe is a lovely person. But staying over a month together with someone you hardly know in a space that's little more than forty square feet...

Let just say I'm glad to be out of there.

Oh, it’s all fine now. N'Yembe is safely set up as an English teacher in rural Sri Lanka.

The Vachandan rainforest is beautiful. But you know, even if you're staying at a luxury hotel, at some point you'll want to go home. You want your own things, your own space...

Especially if that luxury hotel has a mud floor and a million mosquitoes.

I'm sorry I missed the ice cream outing. That would have been nice. Let's all meet for ice cream once this is all over.

Enjoy the seagulls.

BEEP.

PHILIP
The Amelia Project is created by Philip Thorne and Oystein Brager, with music and sound design by Fredrik Baden. This episode was written by Oystein Ulsberg Brager and performed and recorded in lockdown by Julia Morizawa. If you’d like to support the show, go to ameliapodcast.com where you can either become a patron or make a one off donation. And if you become a five dollar patron in the next few days you can participate in the next Cocoa Corner live stream with Alan Burgon on the 1st May. Thank you for listening, thank you to our patrons, a shout out to Eric Da’ Maj, Sophie Levezow, Sophia Anderson and Katharina Sindelar. See you soon for the next Lockdown Tape and until then stay safe.

THE END.