Die nag wat by my spook . . . | Dorings en soms Rose
Die nag wat by my spook . . .
Junie 9, 2008 at 6 : 16 Laviga Heks	149 Kommentaar	Soos julle weet het al my bang hare al lankal uitgeval. Ek vrees geen lewende ding op aarde nie. Ongelukkig is spoke nie lewendig nie. Daar is egter heelwat debat rondom hulle bestaan. Ek verkies doodeenvoudig net om nie in hulle bestaan te glo nie. Tot Vrydagaand. . . .
Ek het vir Tinkerbell na afloop van die blogjol by haar huis gaan aflaai. Ek het so effens verdwaal en het op ‘n stadium in die stad gery. Vandaar af kon ek darem Potgieter straat kry, ook maar net betyds. Skielik was elke stukkie lig in die stad dood. So knap na middernag. Nou is ek nie net alleen in die stad op ‘n koue Saterdagoggend nie, maar die enigste lig wat ek sien is die wat my kar maak. Ek steur my nie veel daaraan nie, dit is seker maar net Eksdom se nonsens. Hulle moes al lankal beurtkrag in die middel van die nag toegepas het. So ry ek maar rustig voort, verby die tronk. Dit is hier waar daar iets baie vreemds gebeur het.
Ek word met ‘n flits van die pad afgetrek. Ek verminder baie teen my sin my spoed, glad nie lus om te stop nie. In die donker, in die koue, buite Pretoria sentraal waar daar al mense tereg gestel is. Die swart polisieman se gesig is in graniet vasgekap, hy sal dit nie waardeer as ek wegry nie. Dus stop ek maar, met my vinger op my nood speeddail. Soos wat hy omstap na my deur, verander hy in gestalte. Skielik is hy in burgerdrag geklee. Net hier groei al my bang hare weer terug. Ek trek teen die spoed van wit lig weg, of eerder, dit was die plan. Lucy het ook geskrik en sy stol. Een skerp vloek was genoeg om haar van plan te laat verander. Soos my bande nog tol, sien ek deur die kant van my oog iets blinks flits. ‘n Panga. Skielik is ek weer in gr 3, hoor ek weer die tannie van die Polisie Museum ons vertel van die Panga Man. Sy het gesê dat hy gehang was oor die liefdesreise wat hy in nagmerries laat ontaard het, maar nie een woord van dat hy spook nie. Ek was al op die snelweg voordat ek omgekyk het. Daar sit hy op my agterste sitplek, met ‘n grynslag, panga omhoog . . .
Ek het eers laat Saterdagmiddag in my kar nog op die snelweg wakker geword. Ek weet nie of wat ek ervaar het die nagevolge van OBS, my verbeelding of ‘n spook is nie. Ek weet net dat daar ‘n hou in my sitplek is waaruit die spons nou peul. En my kar stink . . .
Het julle al sulke vreemde goed oorgekom? Geniet julle spookstories en watter stories kan julle met ons deel? Ek hoop so iets kon nooit ooit weer oor my pad nie.
Blogvraag: Wat doen die spook in Tibbie Visserlaan 13 in Bloemfontein?
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Entry filed under: Uncategorized.	Donald Duck Vervel	Onnatuurlike karakters	149 Kommentaar Add your own
Pikkelik | Junie 9, 2008 om 6 : 59
Liewe hond Adrie, net daar bou ek ‘n toring so groot soos die Eifeltoring in die kar!!! Nee hel, ek is sprakeloos. Moet erken, ek glo nogal aan geeste/demone watookal, maar dit is scary… 😕 EEEERRRSSSTTTEEEE!
Wipneus! | Junie 9, 2008 om 9 : 49
Wipneus! | Junie 9, 2008 om 9 : 50
Ek is bang vir spoke 😯
Jaco | Junie 9, 2008 om 9 : 51
Ek is ook nie te bang nie, maar hierdie storie sit nie lekker nie. My nekhare staan almal regop
Nico | Junie 9, 2008 om 9 : 54
As iemand ‘n spook sien, stuur hom asb na my toe want ek wil graag ook ‘n spook sien…
Nico | Junie 9, 2008 om 10 : 06
Ek het egter ‘n klip om in die bos te gooi van ‘n vreemde ervaring wat ek gehad het…
Dit was in 2005, atletiek, HS Tuine, middag-aand byeenkoms. Ek was oppad huistoe, dis toe nou al so 23:00 verby, toe die adjunk-hoof my bel en se^ my klaskamer se vensters staan oop. Jaco & Krista sal weet waar K80 is – in hul tyd sou dit mnr. de Beer van geskiedenis se klas gewees. Goeie siel wat ek is, draai ek toe maar om en gaan maak die vensters toe aangesien ek die enigste swaap met ‘n sleutel vir die klas is.
Ek klouter die 2 vloere se trappe uit, maar daar is een yswind wat waai in my nek; ek sluit die klasdeur oop en maak die vensters toe (ek het die ligte aan vergeet die dag). Sluit die klas en suiker die 2 vloere af tot waar ek my bakkie geparkeer het – daar waar Mnr. Roos altyd daai blou Escort van hom gestop het.
Net toe ek my bakkiedeur oopmaak, gaan daar 3 klasvensters weer oop. (Nou ek het self daai vensters toegemaak en ek weet hulle was toe, op knip en vasgeskroef op die draaiertjies.)
Nou ‘n moeë boer vattikaki. Ek klim toe sonder die seremonie die trappe op, sluit die klasdeur oop en maak die vensters weer toe met ‘n “Try dit nou weer” gemoed, sluit die klas en daar suiker ek weer die trappe af.
Toe ek by my bakkie kom, kyk ek op met so ‘n “ek dare jou” kyk in my se oge. En nog ‘n minuut my man gestaan om my punt te bewys. Toe daar verder niks gebeur het nie, toe klim ek en ry.
Maandagoggend was die vensters nog steeds toe.
SAM Q | Junie 9, 2008 om 10 : 22
Laaste! Ma nie die bangste! BOE!
SAM Q | Junie 9, 2008 om 10 : 45
Die ‘experience’ wat ek nooooit sal vigeeti was die ou oom wat op die selle vlak gebly het in my woonstel blok. Die gebou is in ‘n u vorm gebou en ons het op die punte gebly oppi 1ste verdieping van ‘n dubbel verdieping gebou. Anyway…. Die ou oom het niemand gehad wat kom kuier hetti en ek het so nou en dan vir hom bq sop, brood, sweet ens aangedra. Toe die oom nie mee kon opstaan nie het ek elke oggend hom gaan dik voer met pap en vi hom ‘n sarmie en sap gelos vi middag ete. Van die werk het ek gou potte oppi stoof gesit, my bf gevra om die potte op te pas dan hol ek gou om na die oom se woonstel om hom inni bad te sit en tanne te borsel. Trug flat toe om kos te gaan haal om die oom te voer. So het dit vi ‘n hele paar weke aangegaan TOT ek die dag by die huis kom en gou ‘n gwaai oppi stoep gaan rook het. Tussen my plek en die oom s’n was daar natuurlik die tuin en ons was afterall oppi 1ste verdieping. Ek bekak toe amper myself toe ek die ou oom oor die tuin sien sweef straight na my toe 😯 ! Die oom het net voor my kom staan en liggies aan my wang gevat en woep… Weg! Ek gryp toe die bf en hol na die ou oom se woonstel toe. Yip…. So dood soos ‘n mossie. Ek glo hyt v my kom dankie sê dat ek hom so mooi opgepas het.
Zee | Junie 10, 2008 om 12 : 02
Jinne Adrie, hoe ril ek nou vir jou part. So, jy het omtrent 12 ure daar “gedoeks”. Nee kyk, ek vra jou nooit weer om vir my ook ene te drink nie. Dametjie, volgende keer moet jy maar liewerste oorslaap! Moes ek nou juis hierdie stories van jou en Nico lees, kyk wat kry ek nou hier….
USB Device Not Recognized – One of the USB devices attached to this program has malfunctioned,…… julle met julle spookstories…..
Nico | Junie 10, 2008 om 12 : 24
Ten spyte van die vorige direkte woorde wat /me met Sam Q gehad het dink /me sy’s ‘n goeie mens…
SAM Q | Junie 10, 2008 om 4 : 42
Hai oe Nico…. Laat jy my nou bloos 😳
Anna Vlok | Junie 10, 2008 om 6 : 07
Ek bid vir julle my broers en sisters. Julle het dit nodig.
Samantha Q | Junie 10, 2008 om 6 : 16
@ Anna ke panna
Dankie………… Ons weet!!!
Krista | Junie 10, 2008 om 7 : 01
Adrie, ek het gisteraand na ek jou stiroe gelees het, nie ‘n oog toegemaak nie. Dit is vreeslik ontstellend!
demoerin | Junie 10, 2008 om 7 : 41
Sjoe, scary. Nog nooit self so ‘n ondervinding gehad nie, maar glo wel dit kan gebeur…en dat daar wel spoke ens. is. Dit maak vir baie interessante stories!
Anna Vlok | Junie 10, 2008 om 8 : 00
Krista ek is baie bekommerd dat jy nie kon slaap nie. Dit is net die duiwel wat sulke dinge doen. Ek bid vir jou.
Adrie | Junie 10, 2008 om 8 : 04
Die duiwel hou my dan al 3 dae lank wakker. Jy sal nooit weer ophou bid vir my nie.
Adrie | Junie 10, 2008 om 8 : 06
Ek sukkel al van Saterdag om die bekende spookstories, soos Uniondale, die Suidwesmeisie en die Hexriviermeisie te kry.
Anette | Junie 10, 2008 om 8 : 09
Die skrywer (Adrie?) soek vir dinge wat kon bly. ‘n Mens moet die onderwereld se booshede soos pes vermy.
Krista | Junie 10, 2008 om 8 : 44
Anna Vlok: dis ons land en die dinge wat gebeur met ons mense in die land wat my laat wakker lê. Bid maar, ja, soveel as jy wil, maar moet nie huiwer om die duiwel te sien vir wat hy is nie.
Salomè | Junie 10, 2008 om 8 : 56
M m m m m o o o r r e almal! Brrrr maar dis koud.
My pa was lank ‘n begrafnis ondernemer en ons het baie ervarings gehad. Ek is nie bang vir hulle nie, maar my nekhare staan almal regop.
Julle onthou dalk dat ek vir MAthilda gesê het dat ek ‘n Mathilda ken, wel, sy het lank in ons kultuursentrum rond geloop totdat iemand haar tot rus kom bring het. Sy was ‘n musiek onderwyseres van die Sonskyn laerskool wat jare terug op die selfde stuk grond was as waar hulle nou die kultuursentrum gebou het. Sy het ons getempteer en verpes met deure oop sluit en toesluit, roep na ons, by die kinders onder in die ballet kamers gekuier (en dan het die onnies haar nie gesien nie) ens, ens,
Adrie | Junie 10, 2008 om 8 : 58
As ek in daardie sentrum was, het julle my begrawe. Maar dan weer . . .
Salomè | Junie 10, 2008 om 9 : 04
Aangenaam, jy is seker nuut want ek ken jou nog nie.
Ek dink nie al hierdie geeste en goed is almal boos nie, hulle is maar net siele wat nie rus kry nie.
My oudste was 5 toe sy boetie dood is, en hy het lank vir ons vertel hoe sy boetie in die aand by hom kom speel. Was selfs woedend toe ons een aand (ons het gehoor hy gesels in sy slaap) die liggie in sy kamer aan sit, want toe het ons kwansuis sy boetie weg gejaag. Hy is nou al 14 en kom soms skaam-skaam sê dat hy weer vir Simon gesien het. “All in the mind” sal party sê, maar ek glo hy kan nie so koekoe wees nie.
Adrie | Junie 10, 2008 om 9 : 14
Ek kom kuier nooit weer in die nag vir jou nie.
Nats | Junie 10, 2008 om 9 : 17
More Julle! Sjoe kry ek nou rillings!!! Ek het baie stories om te vertel, nie almal met my persoonlik te doen nie… maar dit was deur kinders gesien en hoe lieg ‘n kind op ‘n baie jong ouderdom as hy/sy nog nie van “spoke” weet nie. My suster het in die kerk gesit (op die punt naaste aan die handrus en middel gang) Sy het bly op skuif nader aan my ouma en toe my ouma nie meer kan opskuif nie het sy haar gevra wat aan gaa? My suster sê toe nee die oom bly nader aan haar skuif… da was niemand langs haar nie en my ouma was dadelik wit!! Ek glo da is geeste wat nie rus kan kry nie, hulle moet nog hul pad vind.
Adrie | Junie 10, 2008 om 9 : 22
O heng!!! In die kerk? Na Pik se blog gister het ek besluit kerke is gevaarlike goed en die oortuig my nou nog meer.
Nats | Junie 10, 2008 om 9 : 26
Darem was die oom op die regte plek… 🙂
My nefie hy is nou so 5 het by ‘n begrafplaas gesê “Mamma kan ons asb ry ek wil nie hier wees nie ,die manne in uniforms kyk vir my” Dit was die begrafplaas net langs Waterval Onder (langs Paul Kruger se huis) Dit is waar al die soldate begrawe was en meeste van die grafte het nie name op nie, net ‘n kruis. Maar hel ek kry nou nog rillings as ek aan jou belewenis dink!!!
Adrie | Junie 10, 2008 om 9 : 30
Eendag toe ek nog jonk was toe sit ek in die kantien
Ek drink toe daar ‘n dop of 10 en dit om kwaad te dien
Een van my maters die vra vir om met hom na die huis te gaan
Want die pad loop langs die kerkhof en dit is ‘n nuwe maan.
Samantha Q | Junie 10, 2008 om 9 : 32
😯 @ Tannie Anna
Sjoe!!!! Ma jy ga laaaaaaaaaank besig wees as jy vi ons ga bid!
Adrie | Junie 10, 2008 om 9 : 34
Tannie Anna gaan die res van haar lewe op haar kniee deurbring.
Nats | Junie 10, 2008 om 9 : 38
Ek hoop Tannie Anna bid al!!!!!
Samantha Q | Junie 10, 2008 om 9 : 40
Soos dit my klink bid sy elke dag die hele dag!
Katvis | Junie 10, 2008 om 9 : 42
Ek het maar min n storie gehoor van n spook van iemand wat nugter was wat die sogenaamde spook gesien het. Die woord spirrits wat na drank ver wys is afgelei van die woord geeste of tower spel. Ek wonder hoekom drank die naam gekry het dalk is dit die katalusator (weet nie hoe spel jy dit nie) om geeste te sien en het die oumense die gemenefaktor jare terug ook raak gesien. Hiha!!!!!!!
Nats | Junie 10, 2008 om 9 : 43
Ek het pap en ‘n pot werk toe gebring… ek gaan nou vir my pap maak!!! Die manne beter niks sê want ek kry koud!!! Gaan sommer die aircon aan sit ook…. moet net nie vir Eskom sê nie!! 😉
Adrie | Junie 10, 2008 om 9 : 45
Jy spel dit katalisator.
Gaan jy oats maak, met ‘n bietjie knoffel teen spoke?
Katvis | Junie 10, 2008 om 9 : 49
Dankie maar ek sukkel om daardie geeste storie te vat komende van jou af.
Nats | Junie 10, 2008 om 9 : 49
Nope… gewone mieliemeel pap met botter en suiker!!! Is knoffel nie vir vampiere nie??
Adrie | Junie 10, 2008 om 9 : 52
Ek sal nie weet nie, wil ook nie in ‘n vampier vasloop nie.
Samantha Q | Junie 10, 2008 om 9 : 55
Nats | Junie 10, 2008 om 9 : 56
Lekker lag ek nou!!! 😆
Ek was besig om die pap op tesit, toe neem ons bediende sommer oor!! Wel die pap is op die stoof, as dit flop weet ek wie op te blameer!! 😆
Samantha Q | Junie 10, 2008 om 9 : 57
A visit to TivvieVisserlaan (seke ma veronderstel om Tibbie te wees) will give you a scare when you see the ghostly image of a woman or even hear her call to you, and if that is not enough you may catch a glimpse of a black man that is not really there, or see windows slam closed by themselves.
Samantha Q | Junie 10, 2008 om 9 : 58
Glo my………. sy kan daai pap beter maak as jy! Dis dan hul stapel voedsel dieet 😉
Katvis | Junie 10, 2008 om 9 : 58
As jy van gebrande pap hou los haar want hulle hou ook daarvan.
Nats | Junie 10, 2008 om 10 : 00
Ek het so gedink toe sy oor neem, want ek het seker maar gelyk of ek sukkel! Nou is da genoeg vir my en haar vir ‘n week!!! Katvis
Oe nee…. nie gebrande pap nie! Maar ek het haar gesê hoe ek davan hou, so hou duim vas!!
Adrie | Junie 10, 2008 om 10 : 04
Jy het nog nie die antwoord wat ek soek nie.
Samantha Q | Junie 10, 2008 om 10 : 05
Gebrande pap werk lekka vi VIS vang!!
Samantha Q | Junie 10, 2008 om 10 : 07
Nou kry dan iemand anders om dit te soek! Eks besig om tannie Anna te help bid.
Katvis | Junie 10, 2008 om 10 : 10
Ek sal duim vashou vir jou dat sy dit nie brand nie. Lekker eet
Adrie | Junie 10, 2008 om 10 : 11
Kan ek kom foto’s neem as jy bid?
Samantha Q | Junie 10, 2008 om 10 : 14
Ek ga roep nou vi tannie Anna vi jou! Moetie v jou ko sta stuitig houi!
Adrie | Junie 10, 2008 om 10 : 17
Gaan roep Tannie Anna en ek roep vir Tannie Wessina. Sy vattikakki.
Tinkerbell | Junie 10, 2008 om 10 : 18
More Almal! Ek kry klaar so koud nou gee julle my nog die rillings ook..
Adrie | Junie 10, 2008 om 10 : 20
Wees dan bly jy was nie in my skoene nie.
Tinkerbell | Junie 10, 2008 om 10 : 22
Nee glo my ek is, ek glo ook in spoke het ook al ‘n paar belewenisse gehad, my ouma kon my altyd so bang praat met die tipe van goed.
Tinkerbell | Junie 10, 2008 om 10 : 25
Jissim Nats kan ek ook van jou pap kry?
Samantha Q | Junie 10, 2008 om 10 : 26
Nou vertel bq lat ons hoor.
Nats | Junie 10, 2008 om 10 : 29
Mmmmmm my pap is lekker!! Sy mag maar!!
Verons | Junie 10, 2008 om 10 : 29
Jy het in elk geval in een van die gevaarlikse dele van die stad gery my kjind, fok die polisie, fok die speedcops of enige ander donner wat jou wil voorkeer daar, daai tyd van die nag! Ry net sit voet innie hoek en ry!!!!!!
Adrie | Junie 10, 2008 om 10 : 32
Lekker afdag gehad gister?
Tinkerbell | Junie 10, 2008 om 10 : 34
Toe ek op Laerskool was het my ouma nog in ‘n baie ou huis gebly. Sy het altyd gespot en gesê daar is ‘n ou oom wat haar oppas, ek dink tot vandag toe dit was my oupa. In die nag kon mens hoor hoe iemand op die plankvloere loop ‘n deur oopmaak en in die bed klim. Daai beddens wat se springs so geraas het as jy omdraai. Nou ja, dit was altyd net ek en my ouma in die huis. En partykeer het ons ligte van buite gesien, dit het gelyk soos mense met flitse en as ons buite kom is daar niks. As ons dan terug kom in die huis is al die ligte aan en die agterdeur oop. My ouma se radio het ook sommer partykeer vanself aangegaan.
Adrie | Junie 10, 2008 om 10 : 38
Wat is ‘n koshuis sonder ‘n spook?
Skoolkoshuis – iemand het glo haar polse in die stort gesny. Laat in die nag is daar nog bloed op die vloere
Varsity Koshuis – In die dertige jare was daar glo iemand wat in ‘n rolstoel was. Sy moes na die biblioteek gedra word, waar sy dan sou lees as die ander gaan dans het. Een aand het die meisies haar daarbo vergeet en sy mos dringend badkamer toe. Sy besluit toe om self te probeer, val en breek haar nek. Vandag nog hoor jy haar by die trappe afval.
Nats | Junie 10, 2008 om 10 : 38
Ek het nou gegoogle tot ek blou is (of dis dalk die koue)
Maar ek kry nie eens daai spook nie!!
Adrie | Junie 10, 2008 om 10 : 40
Ek hoop ek kry haar later weer.
Nats | Junie 10, 2008 om 10 : 43
Ek lees nou van spoke in en om Bloem, maar niks op die een wat jy soek nie. Tensy ek dit gelees het en nie besef het wat ek lees nie… Die een wat ek gelees het is van ‘n meisie wat ‘n lift terug huis toe soek, sy was glo ‘n paar jaar terug oorlede in ‘n motor ongeluk. Maar hulle noem nie die adres nie.
Adrie | Junie 10, 2008 om 10 : 44
Waarom rus jy nie, rus jy nie
Waarom jaag jy my elke aand op
Sal daar nimmer te nooi ‘n einde kom
Altyd maar weer
Die galop, die galop, die galop
Adrie | Junie 10, 2008 om 10 : 46
Hier is vir jou iets om jou in oom Paul se wille tuin besig te hou.
The Kruger National Park was bound to be haunted. It has always been a land of adventure, and teems with history and strange tales, as well as wildlife. As well as being a wilderness, it is a frontier, and borderlands always produce ghosts. This wilderness has its own Sleepy Hollow, with accompanying legend. The Lebombo Hills form the eastern border of the Kruger National Park. The wooded area right at the northern end is called Pafuri. It was also called Crook’s Corner, because poachers, smugglers and blackbirders (men who smuggled illegal black labourers) took advantage of the spot where the borders of South Africa, Zimbabwe and Mozambique meet. Stephanus Cecil “Bvekenya” Barnard was distinguished at all of the above trades, and sometimes carried the border beacon around with him. Some hunters in this area preferred to camp on the slopes of the Lebombo Hills, where the mosquitos were not so deadly. One of these was an Englishman who had joined a party of Boers. In the valleys of the northern Lebombo are forests of ironwood trees. One day, the Englishman rode down into a densely wooded area, and shot seven elephants. In those days, this was an unusually valuable prize for a single day’s shooting. About a third of an elephant’s tusk is lodged in its skull. Hunters preferred not to hack out the tusks immediately, as it was hard work, and the tusks might be damaged. If the hunter waited a day or so, the tusks would be loosened, and could be pulled right out of the sockets. Of course, ownership of the valuable carcasses was sometimes disputed. The custom was to cut off the tail of the elephant, as a sort of receipt. If the tail fitted the elephant, the ivory belonged to the hunter. In this wild country, however, proof of ownership was not always enough, if men wished to hold on to their property. The next day, the hunter went back to collect some of his ivory. His horse returned to camp, riderless. It had not been immunised against the local diseases, and died not long afterwards. Thereafter, Boer hunters feared to enter that forest, for fear of the phantom rider on a white horse. No doubt, he is still trying to protect his ivory, or to avenge himself on his murderers. Incidentally, another white horse with a ghostly English rider haunts Oorlogskloof (“War Gorge”), in the Waterberg area of the Northern Province. In this case, the spectre is of a brave officer, who was killed during the South African War. On a hilltop overlooking the Luvuvhu River, thirty miles north of Punda Maria rest camp, are stone ruins left by the Lembethu tribe. At one time, this was a village occupied by a chief of the Makahane dynasty. Although a relatively minor chief, he was driven mad by power, and behaved brutally. His father, the paramount chief, eventually sent another son to assassinate him. Makahane is buried in the ruins, in front of his throne. According to T.V. Bulpin, the ruins “seem filled with ghosts”. In the north of the Kruger National Park, especially on rocky hills, you are sure to see the enormously girthed baobab trees. Near the Luvuvhu River, west of the main road to the north, is a dirt road leading through a baobab forest. Actually, it is the young trees which fascinate me, as they often have weird shapes. Devils dwell in baobabs, awaiting their victims. It is said that if you put your ear to the trunk, you can hear them laughing. Some African people sing when they pass baobab trees at night, so as not to be influenced by the spirits’ voices. The flowers, too, contain spirits, and anyone who picks them will be eaten by a lion. Baobabs are deciduous, and when they lose their leaves, the branches look like roots. The bitterness of the baobab spirits is explained by the fact that God turned the trees upside down, to punish them for their arrogance in lording it over other trees. The northernmost rest camp is Punda Maria, which is the camp’s original name. For many years, it had been renamed Punda Milia. It was assumed that this is what the local ranger, Captain Coetser, had meant to call it. Coetser had served in East Africa, and had learned Swahili. Punda Milia, meaning “striped donkey”, is the Swahili name for the zebra. Maria was ranger Coetser’s wife. According to T.V Bulpin, Punda Maria means “striped Maria”. Maria, speculated Bulpin, liked to wear black and white striped dresses. He is wrong. Punda Maria means “Maria the donkey”. Maria did not spend much time with her husband. Perhaps she did not like the wilderness. Or, perhaps, he found the joke more amusing than she did. Near Punda Maria is a hill, called Gumbandevu after a local chief. A goat would be sacrificed at the bottom of this hill, so that its agonised bleats would attract powerful spirits. The rainmaking priestess, Khama, took bones from the goat, as well as other medicines and paraphernalia, and performed her rituals on the hill. Now, ghostly singing and drumming is heard during the night, and Gumbandevu is taboo to the local people. This is probably because, in exceptionally dry years, it was not just goats that were sacrificed. In his book Memories of a Game Ranger, Harry Wolhuter (who once, Tarzan-like, had to kill a lion with a knife), recorded having dealings with a rainmaker called Mpunzane Mhowelela. When droughts drove rainmakers to perform human sacrifices, the victims had to be members of their own extended families. Wolhuter heard that some of Mpunzane’s family had died in this fashion. This is not as far fetched as it may seem, as these ritual muti (“medicine”) killings go on to this day. (You may have read about the suspected muti murder in London, in 2001. I do have personal doubts about that case, though.) Wolhuter admired Mpunzane for his intelligence and showmanship. Mpunzane was such a powerful rainmaker that although he was a Sotho, representatives of Sobhuza, King of Swaziland for most of the twentieth century, arrived every year to hire him to perform his rituals. According to Wolhuter, an African is supposed to know when he is approaching a rainmaker’s hidden medicine hut, as he will become so inexplicably frightened that his hair stands on end. The hair of African people is usually tightly curled, so a lot of fear must be involved. Eight miles south of Pretoriuskop, the rest camp where Wolhuter was based, is a small hill called Kivenene. Here is a shrine where rainmakers of the Mhowelela clan prayed to their ancestors. Perhaps they still do. In his book, Wolhuter discussed the legend of a serpent locally called muhlambela. (The letters “hl” are pronounced like the Welsh “ll”, but most people find “shl” an adequate approximation.) Variously described as being twelve feet or hundreds of feet long, its head resembles a chameleon’s. Unlike a chameleon, however, the muhlambela has feathers on its head. It inhabits well-wooded areas, and moves through the tops of trees. It attracts its victim by bleating like a goat, and kills him by biting a hole in the back of his skull. In the forests of the escarpment west of the Kruger Park, it is called “noga a thaba”, meaning “mountain snake”. The Voortrekker (“Pioneer”) road runs southeast of Pretoriuskop. It was once the main route for the transport of goods between Delagoa Bay and the Lydenburg gold fields. Before a road sufficiently free of the tsetse fly had been made, hundreds of porters carried their goods, in the single file so familiar in safari movies, into the interior. It had been called the Jock of the Bushveld road, after Sir Percy Fitzpatrick’s classic book about his and his dog’s adventures while transport riding. During the era of apartheid, apparently, the Kruger National Park’s administrators preferred to emphasize Afrikaner pioneers, even though most of the transport riders were not Boers, and the road’s name was changed. (The first white person to live in what is now the Kruger National Park was Albasini, a Portuguese trader. When his second trading post was discovered, in the pre-apartheid period, it was preserved as a monument. When his first trading post was found, during the apartheid era, it was bulldozed.) The Voortrekker road is haunted. William Scully, author of Reminiscences of a South African Pioneer, recorded an event which occurred one night when he and his companions were outspanned along the road. Close to the encampment, the calls of a lost man were heard. Scully and his companions shouted, and built up the fire. They fired shots, and waved burning torches. In spite of his nearness, the lost man was no longer sensible to earthly stimuli, and his voice grew fainter and more distant. Although there may be wilder places in Africa, there are few other places which combine wilderness with a sense of being at home. I deplore suicide, but I can sympathise with the fair number of visitors who have taken their own lives in the Park, not because they were unhappy there, but because they could not bear to return to their everyday problems. It is a place that I would not at all mind haunting myself.
Nats | Junie 10, 2008 om 10 : 46
Ek is nou so vol…. jy kan maar al die pap kry wat oor gebly het!!
Adrie | Junie 10, 2008 om 10 : 47
Dit was nie sy nie.
Nats | Junie 10, 2008 om 10 : 47
Dis mos die ridder op ‘n wit perd (sonder ‘n kop)!!!!!
Nats | Junie 10, 2008 om 10 : 48
Die Ridder van Skimmelperd pan of so iets… my oupa sê altyd dit vir ons as ons om die vuur sit!!!
Adrie | Junie 10, 2008 om 10 : 48
Deel so ‘n paar van jou stories met ons.
Modjadji the Rain Queen, “She Who Must Be Obeyed”
South of Venda is the land of Modjadji, the rain queen who inspired H. Rider Haggard’s immortal “She”. Modjadji means “ruler of the day”, and this queen was said to be both immortal and white. In truth, an ailing queen would commit suicide with poison said to be made from the brains and spinal cords of crocodiles. It was through her successor that she would live forever. This sort of immortality was the subject of Frazer’s classic The Golden Bough. Modjadji’s pale skin was due to her being kept in darkness, so that even most of her own subjects would never see her. Chieftainess of the BaLovedu, or Lobedu tribe, Modjadji joined with the VhaVenda and BaTlou tribes in their struggle against the Boers, during the nineties of the nineteenth century. Until her defeat, no white man had ever seen her. The BaLovedu tribe was founded by Dzugudini, a rainmaking princess of Zimbabwe’s Karanga tribe. In the sixteenth century, she fled with her followers to the Daja Forest on the Molototsi River. Until the early nineteenth century, the ruler of the tribe was usually a man. Then, a chief called Mugado had visions, and executed his own sons. He married his daughter, and any male children were strangled shortly after birth. By this incestuous relationship, a dynasty of queens was founded. Modjadji may not marry a man, but has a number of “wives”. Her children are fathered by royal consorts. Modjadji became the most powerful rainmaker in Southern Africa. Even the mighty Zulus feared and respected her, and gave her the name Mabelemane (“four breasts”). They were certain that the fertility and richness which she brought to the earth would be mirrored in her own body. The necessary rituals are usually performed in October. The rain comes at a price. The magical medicine once included the brain of a sacrificed child. Nowadays, a goat is considered sufficient. The skins of dead rain queens and their counsellors were also used. Apparently, after a corpse is left for a few days, the skin comes away easily in skilled hands. A human skull is used in the ritual, as are “gomana” drums, which help to summon the rain. The medicine is stored in pots called mehago. When the medicine is burned in magical horns, the smoke rises into the sky and seeds rain clouds. While the magical horns are placed on the ground, rain continues to fall. When Modjadji wishes the rain to stop, she hangs up the horns. Modjadji reigns from her capital, which is also called Modjadji. However, she is rarely seen by tourists, unless special arrangements are made. The old queen Modjadji “died” in June 2001, but will live on through her successor. Near the village is a sacred forest of unique Modjadji cycads. South of Modjadji’s realm is Duiwelskloof (“Devil’s Gorge”). I remember reading that it was named after a demon, but another explanation is that the name stuck because ox wagons had a tendency to become trapped in the muddy roads of the area. Further south is Magoebaskloof (“Makgoba’s Gorge”). The BaTlou tribe refused to pay taxes to the South African Republic (later called The Transvaal). Less skilled in bushcraft, by African standards, the Boers could not overcome the BaTlou in their forested mountain stronghold. Instead, in 1895, they hired Swazi mercenaries, who eventually trapped the BaTlou. In true Rob Roy fashion, the Swazi captain promised to spare the BaTlou, if their chief, Makgoba (Magoeba), agreed to meet him in single combat. The old chief fought bravely, but was killed. His head was cut off by the Swazis, to show to the Boers. The BaTlou paid their taxes, but the Boers were sufficiently moved to immortalise Makgoba, when they named the area. Nearby is the beautiful Debegeni waterfall, on the Ramadipa, or Politsi River. The falls form a succession of cascades over a sloping rock, sometimes used by brave souls as a water slide. The pool below is shaped like a pot. “Debegeni” actually means “place of the pot”. Gifts of food and beer were left by the pool, to appease dangerous sprites. The sprites are still dangerous. I still have a printed official warning concerning wet rocks, given to me routinely on one of my visits to Debegeni Falls in the nineteen-eighties. It mentions that during January 1981 alone, there were seven serious accidents, including two fatal, one broken back, one broken neck, two with manifold injuries, and one broken ankle. You have been warned. The surrounding area is well-forested, both with indigenous woods and plantations. Animals found in the indigenous forest, which is called Woodbush, include leopards. They are rarely seen by casual visitors.
Salomè | Junie 10, 2008 om 10 : 49
Toe skrik die internet so groot vir Adrie se spookstorie dat hy my nie verder wil laat gesels nie. (of hy kry ok so koud soos ek)
Ek wou nog vir julle koffie los, maar ek dink ons moet liewer die Milo of Hot Choklit met bietjie skop in nader trek sodat ons kan warm word.
Adrie | Junie 10, 2008 om 10 : 52
Milo Asb Saloom
Nats | Junie 10, 2008 om 10 : 53
Ek kan nie die woorde onthou nie!!!!!!!! Ek weet…. ek sal dit nou kry!!
Adrie | Junie 10, 2008 om 10 : 54
A tragedy of South Africa, in recent years, has been the burning of hundreds of “witches”. Most of these crimes took place in what is now Limpopo province, but the following strange event took place in the village of Majembeni, near Hazyview in Mpumalanga (“sunrise”) province. It was recorded by Goodenough and Sydney Mashego of the Sunday Times, in March 1996. Unusually, the victim was not human. A baboon was seen in the village, and a woman cried out that it was a witch. A crowd chased the animal up a tree, and a man grabbed it and swung it round until it was dizzy. It was thrown to the ground and beaten with iron bars, and petrol was poured onto it. A tyre was placed on the baboon, a method of execution known as “necklacing”, and it was burned. The woman who started the frenzy said that when it was alive, the baboon was a giant. Its small size after being burned, and the time it took to set it alight, apparently proved that witchcraft was involved. The secretary of the local civic association said that the creature had appeared from nowhere, magically, and that it had no owner. In that, he was mistaken. The unhappy owner was seen collecting her murdered pet. I never asked about ghosts on my short visits to Pilgrim’s Rest (Pelgrimsrus), but the area must be worthy of investigation. The whole of this picturesque nineteenth-century village is a national monument. You have to visit the Royal Hotel. The bar dates from 1882 at its present location, but was actually once a church in Lourenco Marques (Maputo), in Mozambique. The building was dismantled and reassembled as part of the hotel. The cemetery is always a good place to look for ghosts. Many graves of the gold rush days are unnamed. Most face east to west, but some face north to south. These are the graves of unfortunates summarily and illegally executed for crimes that the prospectors regarded as particularly heinous, such as the theft of a horse or tent. Twelve miles south of Machadodorp is the farm Uitkomst (“outcome”), on which there is a pretty waterfall at which a tragedy occurred. I am not sure of the date, but in the late nineteen-sixties, it was already said to have been “many years ago”. A couple on their honeymoon visited the waterfall, and the bride posed on the edge so that her husband could take a photograph. The rocks on the edges of waterfalls are notoriously slippery, however, and she fell to her death. Exactly a year later, her distraught husband took his own life at the same spot. On moonlit nights, the reunited pair may still be seen at the top of the waterfall. At Waterval-Onder (“lower waterfall”) is the Wayside Inn, a nineteenth century coaching inn. In the grounds of the hotel was a peppercorn tree under which a nurse and an officer of the Inniskilling Dragoons kept their trysts. Both were killed in an attack during the Anglo-Boer war. This did not prevent their spirits from meeting under the tree in the evenings. Unfortunately, the tree blew down in the nineteen-sixties, and the grave of the officer was moved to Barberton. It has been suggested that the ghostly courtship can no longer continue, but if I’m any judge of ghosts, they will still sometimes meet at their favourite spot, perhaps under a ghostly peppercorn tree. Also in the grounds of the Wayside Inn is the Krugerhof, where President Paul Kruger stayed before his exile in Europe. Before he left, he and his cabinet met in a railway carriage, and it was from here that they disposed of the gold of the South African Republic, the mysterious treasure known as the Kruger Millions. While at Waterval-Onder, be sure to visit the beautiful Elands River Falls, and it is worthwhile following the scenic route to the Montrose Falls. There are various historic sites in the area, such as the Z.A.S.M. railway tunnel, dating from the nineteenth century South African Republic.
Salomè | Junie 10, 2008 om 10 : 55
Ek soek ok samblief van daai pap, met botter en suiker en dan wil ek bietjie van die fyn biltong daar oor gooi. mmmmmm njammies
Salomè | Junie 10, 2008 om 10 : 56
Hiers jou Milo Adrie # jy moet blaaas, die melk het gekook #
Adrie | Junie 10, 2008 om 10 : 56
Vertel ons ‘n bietjie van Pelgrims se spoke?
Adrie | Junie 10, 2008 om 10 : 57
Die spook wat ek al dae lank soek.
The Hex Valley is surrounded by high mountains. The highest peak is Matroosberg, where, on the lower crags a lovely young woman makes her appearance on certain moonlit nights, crying and wringing her hands. But she has been dead for many long years. She was Eliza Meiring, daughter of a farmer whose homestead was not far from the foothills where Matroosberg rises from the vineyards. She lived in the middle years of the 19th century. She had many suitors because she was very beautiful. But she was also a bit spoilt and self-centred. She fell in love with a young man (some say his name was Frans but no more is known about him). To satisfy her pride she demanded that, to marry her, Frans must first go and pick her a red disa in the kloofs of the Matroosberg. The disa is a beautiful flower, but unfortunately it grows only in the most inaccessible places: against steep, mossy cliffs in shady ravines and gorges. So to pick a disa is an almost impossible task without mountaineering equipment, which did not exist in those days.
When they brought Eliza the news that her lover had fallen to his death with a disa in his hand, she was beside herself with grief and remorse. In fact, she was so overcome because she had caused the death of her only love with her demand that she became mentally ill, and her parents kept her locked in her bedroom to watch over her. She scratched her name on the wooden windowsill: “Eliza. 1868”.
But one moonlit night she broke out and escaped. Wearing only her long white nightgown, she went into the foothills and then up the trail Frans had taken. There, somewhere on a rocky outcrop, she sat down and sobbed. But the outcrop crumbled beneath her and she, too, fell to her death. Now Eliza still wanders the crags of the Matroosberg when the moon is full: a pale ghost in her long white dress. She is known in Afrikaans as the “Heks van Hexrivier” (witch of the Hex River). A few decades ago the old farmstead was demolished. Eliza’s name and the date were still on one of the windowsills.
Adrie | Junie 10, 2008 om 10 : 58
En Uniondale se spook
The Ghost of Uniondale She is probably South Africa’s most well known highway ghost. On our recent vacation, we passed through Uniondale and we were told the following story, the inhabitants swear it is true: The story starts on the evening of 12th April 1968 when a recently engaged couple, Maria Roux and G.M. Pretorius were travelling from Graaf Reinet to Riversdal. They however never made their destination , Pretorius lost control of the vehicle just outside Uniondale and they were involved in a horrible accident. Pretorius was injured and when the wreck was found by a local farmer the next morning Maria was dead. A few years later, in 1976 motorists started seeing a woman in white alongside the road where the accident took place. Some motorists picked her up, minutes later they would hear a shrill laugh , the sound of a door closing and an icy chill would be felt inside the car. This became known as the ghost of Maria Roux. It is also said that the local police department kept some sugar water available to calm tourists who came in to report seeing a ghost. The story further goes that Pretorius got married a year after the tragic accident and that is why Maria became restless, the fact that her fiancé had found love in the arms of another woman. When Pretorius himself died in a car accident in 1984, Maria stopped appearing, she was at peace at last.
Salomè | Junie 10, 2008 om 11 : 02
Nee jong van Pelgrims se spoke weet ek nie veel nie, maar ek kan jou van Ermelo se spoke vertel.
Die ou huis wat ons in gebly het, was ok nog een van die met die hoë prentjies dakke en plank vloere. My ma kon glad nie in die een kamer slaap nie, want iemand het haar altyd daar in die bed vas gedruk. Daar was ok ‘n hond wat in die laaang gang afgeloop het, tot in die kombuis, maar as jy in die kombuis kom is daar niemand. My koekoe pa het al die ding voorgelê met die pellet geweer, want hy het hom ok gesien. Die vloerlyste was voos geskiet soos hy die hond probeer raak skiet het.
Ons het later uit gevind dat die vrou wat daar gebly het blykbaar haar man in die bed betrap het met iemand anders, en haar ok toe sommer van kant gemaak. die hond was die man s’n. Niemand sê wat van die man geword het nie, maar die hond soek dan seker na hom.
Adrie | Junie 10, 2008 om 11 : 03
~ The Ghosts at the Cape Town Castle ~ The Lady in Grey is one of the most often seen ghosts in the Castle. She is often seen with her hands covering her face, as though she is weeping. Sightings of her have also been made at Government House and some people say that there was once a passage linking the Castle and Government House. Recently the skeleton of a women was found during excavations – perhaps those of the Lady in Grey – as she hasn’t been seen since those bones were found! The ghost of Governor Noodt is also thought to haunt the Castle. He was a very strict governor of the Cape and disciplined his soldiers harshly for any wrong-doing. Four soldiers who were caught trying to escape were tried and sentenced to a beating and the deportation to Batavia. Without warning, this sentence was changed to the death sentence by Governor Noodt. Everyone thought that this punishment was far to harsh and very cruel, but van Noodt would not be moved. Just before their execution, the four men were visited by their minister and they prayed together. The following morning, the governor did not attend the execution, rather keeping to his own rooms. As the last man was being led forward to be hanged, he cursed Governor van Noodt and challenged him to appear before God and answer for what he had done. Then he too was hanged. When the officers went to tell Governor van Noodt that his sentences had been carried out, they found him dead – apparently of a heart attack – in his chair, an expression of fear on his face. It is said that his ghost still prowls the Castle at night.
Adrie | Junie 10, 2008 om 11 : 04
~ The Flying Dutchman ~ Captain Hendrik van der Decken had just offloaded his cargo in Cape Town and was anxious to get back to sea again in his ship, the Flying Dutchman. His crew, however, begged to to stay in port, as the weather was turning foul and they were scared to sail in the dangerous Cape waters in such conditions. Van der Decken would not listen and he sailed out of Cape Town straight into a hurricane. For days he fought against the elements, even lashing himself to the wheel, so that he would not be swept overboard. His crew pleaded with him to turn back, but he would not listen. He was like a madman – pitching his small vessel against the mighty storm. He cursed God, saying that even He could not make him change his mind and swore that he would sail on until he met the ends of the earth. As he said this, the storm seemed to instantly die down and a ghost appeared on the ship. All the crew instantly fell down dead, but van der Decken fired his gun at the figure. His arm immediately withered and became useless. The ship glowed a red colour and disappeared forever into the storm. The legend says that the Flying Dutchman continues to sail forever, as a ghost ship, trying still to sail around the Cape of Storms. Over the years many people claim to have seen the Flying Dutchman off our shores, but no sensible captains will take their ship near the ghostly ship, because they believe that something terrible will happen aboard their ship if they do.
Adrie | Junie 10, 2008 om 11 : 07
My ouma het ook mos goed gesien.
In die huis waarin ek groot geword het, was daar glo ‘n groot man wat by die gang afgeloop het en gereeld in die seuns se kamer gesit het. Altyd kiertsregop, met sy hande op sy kniee. Ek het dit nooit self ervaar nie.
Wipneus! | Junie 10, 2008 om 11 : 07
Hoe gaan dit op hierdie spokerige oggend
Salomè | Junie 10, 2008 om 11 : 08
Ok in Ermelo se huis;
Avbob se kantore en die huis is op dieselfde erf. Toe was die swart lykshuis nog ‘n aparte geboutjie los van die hoof gebou.
Ons het ‘n groot swart Great Dane gehad (Dina). Sy kon die swartmense se geweeklaag nie verdra nie. Hulle kom mos altyd so 2 dae voor die begrafnis al daar sit en huil / kerm.
Maar in elk geval. Sy het altyd saam met ons geloop. As ons na my ma in die kantoor wil gaan moes ons by die agterdeur in, verby die lykshuis, verby die goedkoop kiste, verby die middelslag kiste, verby die “duur” kiste, verby my pa se kantoor tot voor in die ontvangs. Sy het ons partymaal voorgekeer iewers langs die pad, hare orent. Soms het sy selfs vir ons gegrom as ons tog maar wou aanstap. Sy het seker maar iets gesien.
Wipneus! | Junie 10, 2008 om 11 : 08
Salome wat vertel jy ons hier 😯
Adrie | Junie 10, 2008 om 11 : 10
~ Van Hunks and the Devil ~
As the story goes Jan van Hunks, a Dutch pirate in the early 18th century, retired from his eventful life at sea to live on the slopes of Devil’s Peak, South Africa. To escape from his wife’s sharp tongue he often walked up the mountain where he settled down to smoke his pipe. One day a mysterious stranger approached him and asked the retired pirate to borrow some tobacco. After a bit of bragging, a smoking contest ensued, with the winner’s prize a ship ful of gold. After several days, Van Hunks finally defeated the stranger, who unfortunately turned out to be the devil. Suddenly, thunder rolled, the clouds closed in and Van Hunks disappeared, leaving behind only a scorched patch of ground. Legend has it that the cloud of tobacco smoke they left became the “table-cloth” – the famous white cloud that spills over Table Mountain when the south-easter blows in summer. When that happens, it is said that Van Hunks and the Devil are at it again.
Salomè | Junie 10, 2008 om 11 : 10
Ja nee ek weet ok nie vir wat Adrie almal so wil laat bibber op so bibber koue dag nie, maar nou ja . . .
Deel asb ook ‘n paar van jou stories.
Adrie | Junie 10, 2008 om 11 : 11
As julle bibber, word julle mos warm.
Salomè | Junie 10, 2008 om 11 : 14
Meer grappig (dalk is dit spot) van my pa se stories (ek dink hulle was blerrie stout)
Hulle moes eendag ‘n oom begrawe wat ‘n gebreklike hand gehad het (dink dit was artheritis) Toe hulle hom in die kis sit hak die krom hand aan die kant van die kis vas. Niemand gewaar dit dadelik, maar toe hulle die kis moet toe maak, vang my pa se oog die hand wat oor die kant loer en vra toe sy swart helper “Wat maak die oubaas nou?” Hulle het net deure hoor klap en noooooit weer die helper gesien nie.
Nats | Junie 10, 2008 om 11 : 17
Dit spook hier by my… ek hak alweer vas op 10:46am!!!
Samantha Q | Junie 10, 2008 om 11 : 18
Praat later julle. Net gou besig met Debis (Helkom) se mense.
Adrie | Junie 10, 2008 om 11 : 18
Ek wens ek kon dit sien.
Adrie | Junie 10, 2008 om 11 : 19
Daar is duidelik ‘n spook by jou (en Verons) wat lewendig geklap wil word.
Wipneus! | Junie 10, 2008 om 11 : 21
Wel my een Oom het in Perel gebly, onder die taal monument, selfde straat, o wat ‘n pragtige plek!!! Sy skoonma het in Bellville in ‘n ou, ou huis gebly….. een dag toe staan my niggie en hare was in haar ouma se badkamer en daar staan toe ‘n man in swart in die deur vir haar en kyk…… hy het net gestaan en sy was stokstyf van skrik, het toe nie weer alleen gesit in haar ouma se huis nie….. dit is waar.
Wipneus! | Junie 10, 2008 om 11 : 22
Nats | Junie 10, 2008 om 11 : 23
Dis beter! Salome
Adrie | Junie 10, 2008 om 11 : 24
Eish. Ek hoor Daisy de Melker gaan nou nog een keer ‘n jaar in Pretoria Sentraal aan die gil.
Nats | Junie 10, 2008 om 11 : 26
Ek het op my ouma hulle se plaas, een aand gaan slaap. Ek was laaste wakker (almal da gaan slaap mos wanne die son sak – 7pm) Ek het in die bed gelê en hoor hoe iemand snooker / pool speel (my oupa het ‘n groot snooker tafel gehad in die middel van die huis) Ek was naderhand so gatvol om die balle te hoor (ngal die tyd van die aand – was so 11pm) Toe ek opstaan was alles donker en die snooker tafel mooi oorgetrek – geen balle in sig!! Toe ek besef da was niks was ek vinniger in die bed as “Flash”
Adrie | Junie 10, 2008 om 11 : 31
Wat sou jy gedoen het as die spook saam met jou kom inklim het?
Wipneus! | Junie 10, 2008 om 11 : 35
Adrie, ek is Daisy de Melker, dis al die tyd vir my wat jy hoor gil….. my hare lyk nie meer goed nie dis 10 snye agter
Wipneus! | Junie 10, 2008 om 11 : 37
Nats… whahaha ek sou definitief nie in die bed gespring het nie, ek sou my nat ge pp het as ek weet spook se kind is in die huis
Adrie | Junie 10, 2008 om 11 : 37
’n Ma het die man wat haar dogter verkrag en onsedelik aangerand het, gister gesoen en omhels, want sy glo steeds in sy onskuld.
Die meisietjie, wat nou nege jaar oud is, was die vermoorde Sheldean Human (7) se maatjie. Hulle het saam met hul gesinne in ’n kommune in Pretoria-Tuine gewoon.
Andrew Jordaan (26), die maatjie se peetpa, het die twee meisies verlede jaar na ’n parkie geneem waar hy met hulle op swaaie en ’n rondomtalie gespeel het.
Daarna het hy hulle huis toe geneem, waarna hy Sheldean ontvoer, betas en vermoor het.
Hy is gister in die Pretoriase hooggeregshof deur waarnemende regter Chris Eksteen onder meer gevonnis tot 15 jaar gevangenisstraf vir die verkragting van Sheldean se maatjie en ’n verdere vyf jaar omdat hy die maatjie onsedelik aangerand het.
Die maatjie se ma het tydens die hofverrigtinge pal langs Jordaan se familie gesit.
Toe Eksteen in sy uitspraak sê prof. Wikus Coetzee, ’n kliniese sielkundige, het getuig hy is oortuig dat Jordaan meer as een keer seksueel met die maatjie verkeer het, het die ma bloot haar kop geskud.
Eksteen het verder gesê Jordaan het die maatjie in sy web ingetrek en haar vasgevang in sy molesteringsaksies.
“Blykbaar was u bewus dat dié jong kind (die maatjie) ook liefde en bystand benodig,” het Eksteen aan Jordaan gesê.
“Jy is toegelaat om met die jong meisie in jou kamer te wees, waar jy geslagtelike toegang gesoek en verkry het. Die ervaring wat sy moes deurmaak, moes ’n lewenslange letsel op haar gelaat het.
“In plaas daarvan om haar te beskerm het jy haar uitgebuit. Sy en Sheldean het die spreekwoordelike wolf skaapwagter gemaak.
“Jy is nie die voorreg werd om haar peetpa te wees nie.”
Nadat Jordaan gevonnis is, het die maatjie se ma saam met Jordaan se stiefma en drie susters na hom gegaan en hom gesoen en omhels.
“Andrew is nie skuldig nie,” het die ma buite die hof gesê. “Hy sal nie kinders seermaak nie. Ons sal nog agter die waarheid kom.”
Die maatjie is, nadat sy in dié saak getuig het, uit die sorg van haar ouers geneem en is hangende ’n ondersoek deur die kinderhof in pleegsorg geplaas.
Adrie | Junie 10, 2008 om 11 : 38
Ek sal soos Pikkie maak
My eie eifel net daar bou.
Salomè | Junie 10, 2008 om 11 : 39
Weet nou nie of die gespottery my hel toe gaan sleep nie, maar hier is nog een.
Die swart roubeklaers het aleweig saam met die kis agter in die lykswa geklim. Daar was ‘n paar wat altyd daar was al was dit elkekeer ‘n ander begrafnis. Al het my pa-hulle hoe geraas (hulle mag nie dit gedoen het nie), was daar net geen keer aan die diep rou nie en moes hulle opsluit by die kis wees. Hy en die swart begrafnis ondernemer (sy naam was Moses en hy het ‘n ou grys baard gehad – as julle dit kan glo) belsuit toe eendag om die spul so bietjie in die hande te kry. Hulle draai nie die kis se deksel vas nie (onthou dis ‘n goedkoop kis wat se deksel sommer net bo-op sit, nie soos die lanies wat ‘n deurtjie by die gesig het nie). Die klomp dames is ok toe weer holderstebolder agter by die kis in en en wriemel hulle self by elke beskikbare gaatjie in. So met die ryery gat toe skud die deksel en die vrouens mekaar toe nou rond daar agter, totdat die deksel afgly en die een binne in die kis beland saam met die die dooie. Hulle het nie weer maklik agter in geklim nie.
Adrie | Junie 10, 2008 om 11 : 41
Jou pa was ook maar ‘n stout gat gewees. Whaahahahaha
Het hulle so in die ry uitgespring?
Salomè | Junie 10, 2008 om 11 : 44
Nee, hulle het soos Daisy De Melker gemaak totdat my pa-hulle gestop het.
Salomè | Junie 10, 2008 om 11 : 45
Jy weet nie die helfte nie. Ek wonder of ou engel Gabriel hom ooit eendag deur die stadspoorte sal laat gaan?
Adrie | Junie 10, 2008 om 11 : 46
Vertel ons nog.
Salomè | Junie 10, 2008 om 11 : 47
Laat ek nou eers die koerier gaan help. Hy moet Stellenbosch toe.
Nats | Junie 10, 2008 om 11 : 51
…. hier gat ek alweer …..
Adrie | Junie 10, 2008 om 11 : 53
Nats Hulle werk seker weer aan wordpress
Adrie | Junie 10, 2008 om 11 : 55
My tipe seun
Londen. – Het jy al ooit daardie arkadespeletjie probeer waar jy ’n beertjie met afstandbeheerde staalkake moet gryp – en besef dit is bykans onmoontlik omdat die kake oopglip sodra jy die beertjie beethet?
’n Britse kleuter het dít oorkom deur sélf in die masjien te klim om sy beertjie te gaan opeis.
Die Daily Mail het gister berig dat Christopher Air (3) tydens ’n vakansie in Skegness aan die ooskus van Engeland lank probeer het om die beertjie te “vang”.
Sy ma, Elaine, het omgedraai om ’n ?20-noot (sowat R311) te wissel sodat hy weer kan probeer en toe sy terugkom, was Christopher ín die masjien: hy het glo gesien die beertjies kom by ’n valdeurtjie uit en gereken dit is makliker om sélf daar in te kruip en sy beertjie te gaan haal.
Om sake te vererger kon die arkade-bestuurder nie die masjien se sleutel kry nie en moes Christopher 30 min. wag om uitgehelp te word. Hy is darem met ’n gratis beertjie beloon vir sy vindingrykheid. . .
Nats | Junie 10, 2008 om 11 : 57
Ouma en Adrie
Dan was ek nie vandag hier as hy / sy saam my bed toe was nie!!! Ek het selfs onlangs ‘n snaakse ervaring gehad… was by vriende van ons se ma’le. Hulle bly in ‘n ou Krugerdorp huis. Ek het ‘n seun na een van die kamers sien hardloop, ek het niks gedink op daai tyd nie want my vriendin se seun was toe 7. Net daarna kom sy my vriendin en sê sy dink hulle moet ry want die kinders slaap was op een van die beddens… al vir ure! Ek was yskoud, maar het maar stil gebly. Netnou dink my vriende ek raak mal!! Of ek het my verbeel.
Adrie | Junie 10, 2008 om 12 : 02
Ek is altyd daar vir jou as jy wil praat. Veral wanneer jou ogies jou bedrieg.
Nats | Junie 10, 2008 om 12 : 09
Ek blameer maar die drank…
Adrie | Junie 10, 2008 om 12 : 13
Dit is tyd dat ons die koffiekan nader sleep.
Verons | Junie 10, 2008 om 12 : 35
A3 wa my gesiggie?????
My dag af was toe nie so lekker nie was heeltyd innie bed gewees, ek was net die rukkie op om vir A-hulle af te sien toe weer terug, voel vadag nie juis beter nie!!
Adrie | Junie 10, 2008 om 12 : 38
Gaan kuier weer by http://en.gravatar.com/ en kyk wat gaan daar aan
Salomè | Junie 10, 2008 om 12 : 49
Ek gaan nou huis toe om Gr.8 EBW te leer. Geniet julle middag.
Wipneus! | Junie 10, 2008 om 1 : 10
Hierdie blog is vandag skreeu snaaks met al die spook stories!!
Bye bye julle ek gaan nou bietjie vir ouma vat vir shopping in die koue!!!! Ek is mos nie meer vandag se kind nie.
Pikkelik | Junie 10, 2008 om 1 : 19
Salomè, ek is hongerrrrrrrr!!!!!!! 😈
Pikkelik | Junie 10, 2008 om 1 : 21
Pikkelik | Junie 10, 2008 om 1 : 23
Verdomp, fire haar Adrie…. Ook nooit naby as mens honger is nie. Sal nou maar vir myself iets moet maak om te eet….
Nats | Junie 10, 2008 om 1 : 24
Ek is ook honger… vir sop!!!
Ek was lekker siek gister aand in die gym!! So ek gym nie vannaand nie, was toe sommer saam die Army Wifes in die bed en da het ek gebly!! Ouma
Boo boo!!! Pasop vir te veel shop! More spook die rente / slippies by ouma!! 😆
Adrie | Junie 10, 2008 om 1 : 24
Ek kan haar nie fire as daar nie ‘n plaas vervanger is nie. Al doen Salome min, is dit ver beter as om honger en koud te gaan.
Gaan kuier gerus vir haar, sy sal jou dan voer.
Adrie | Junie 10, 2008 om 1 : 28
Eers sien jy goede, en nou is jy siek?
Is als nog okay by jou?
Nats | Junie 10, 2008 om 1 : 47
Nats | Junie 10, 2008 om 1 : 54
Nee ek het sterk koffie of iets nodig… sopas ‘n bord gebreek en wordpress hak vas!!!
ADRIANA | Junie 10, 2008 om 2 : 03
Maar dit asseblief 2 koppies.
Nats | Junie 10, 2008 om 2 : 06
Hier is jou Mocca Java coffie met 2 suiker, melk en bietjie room!
Nats | Junie 10, 2008 om 2 : 09
Ek is nou terug….
ADRIANA | Junie 10, 2008 om 2 : 13
Dankie. Net soos ek daarvan hou.
Nats | Junie 10, 2008 om 2 : 23
Ek het seker nou al 100 oproepe gemaak!!
Ai tog my oor is al seer!!!
boendoe | Junie 10, 2008 om 2 : 25
Haai, nee, Adrie, dis ‘n vreeslike storie daai! Ek sou myself behoorlik toegedinges het, NIE aan die slaap loop raak het nie!
Adrie | Junie 10, 2008 om 2 : 28
Netnou val jou oor af.
Adrie | Junie 10, 2008 om 2 : 29
Ek het van skok flou geword. Kan jy glo, ek, flou.
Lees gerus my nuwe post
Roer | Junie 10, 2008 om 6 : 08
Adrie, is jy nou ernstig? Trues bob? Het dit regtig gebeur?
Adrie | Junie 10, 2008 om 7 : 03
Ek is glad nie erenstig nie.
neykie | Junie 11, 2008 om 10 : 11
Eish ek sit hier en dis helder oordag en ek kry ‘n “pis ril” ek hou van sullke stories.
Edgar | Desember 7, 2008 om 7 : 59
Alles n bol stront.
Julle swiep almal mekaar op, is julle gesuip of wat ?
Joey | Julie 2, 2009 om 4 : 10
Ek het nou pas 3 ure lank gelees aan almal se msgs van laasjaar die tyd. Ek dit baie geniet. Als gekom van inligting soek van die Uniondale spook. Julle almal klink na wonderlike mense.
Adrie | Julie 2, 2009 om 4 : 20
Ek hoop jy het darem ‘n paar interessante brokkies gekry. Jy is natuurlik baie welkom om saam met ons te kom kuier.
Ek het die storie uit my duim gesuig, maar SA het ‘n skatkis vol spookstories.
Joey | Julie 2, 2009 om 4 : 23
Dankie ek sal defnitief saam julle so af en toe kom chat. Ek baie gelag vir al julle stories en remarks op mekaar se sê goed. Voel amper of ek julle in persoon ken. Julle het my deur ‘n boring dag by werk gehelp
Mariaan | September 26, 2009 om 1 : 43
Julle moet maar laat weet as daar ‘n huis or area is wat ons moet “investigate” vir spoke en dinge.
Ons is gereeld op soek na huise waar dit spook en gool ;-p
Ek is ‘n spanlid van die South African Paranormal Research Society
Groetnis van spook tot spook
Skoor | Oktober 30, 2009 om 8 : 45
Fakkit, wat ‘n lekker storie!
Ek het gehoor van daai pangaman in die polisiemuseum. Hys seker nou al verwyder omdat dit menseregteskending is??
Joey | Oktober 30, 2009 om 8 : 58
WHAHAHA ek wetie maar dis mos nou halloween maand. Spoke gaan begin spook!!
Spoke interesant maar hou hulle net van my af.