Mysticism in Casamance: The Secrets of an Unexpected Healing

An Ordinary Day Under the Tropical Heat It was a swelteringly unbearable day in Casamance, southern Senegal, where the relentless sun seemed to scorch everything in its path. In the early afternoon, I was returning from Ziguinchor with two of my employees, Augustin and Mass. We decided to stop at a crocodile farm, curious to gather ideas for caring for the baby crocodiles I had recently acquired. A few weeks earlier, some village kids from Elinkine, where I had settled a few months ago, sold me these tiny reptiles. They had found them in a nearby pond and, sensing an opportunity, decided to offer them to the "white guy" who had recently moved into their village. The visit to the farm was filled with laughter and lively banter. But suddenly, an odd sensation washed over me. A peculiar internal heat, distinct from the tropical climate, began to spread through my body at an alarming rate. I had felt this before: the onset of a malaria attack. However, this one felt far more intense than any I had experienced previously. A Race Against the Fever I turned to Augustin and Mass, trying to keep my voice steady despite the growing urgency within me. "Guys, I’m having a malaria attack." They burst out laughing, probably thinking I was exaggerating. But I was the only one among us who could drive, and it was critical to get back to Elinkine before the fever rendered me unable to steer. The sensation was bizarre: an insidious warmth creeping through me, accompanied by an overwhelming fat