My Mother’s Association With Black Magic

I couldn’t make sense of how an individual managed to survive that many heart attacks. An individual — my mother — who wasn’t even living a healthy lifestyle.

My mother’s last heart attack, which eventually led to her demise last February, was her fifth.


In the world of Western medicine, statistics show that the third is the fatal one. I have not heard of anyone who has survived beyond three heart attacks.

Ugly and evil as this sounds, the thought crossed my mind that it was something beyond the ordinary, human powers that were keeping my mother alive — and those forces weren’t even Divine in nature.

The opposite, in fact.

“Para siyang sinasapian.” [It’s like an evil spirit has come over her.]

I had known for a long time, as early as a young child, that my mother had associated herself with black magic practitioners, practices, and rituals. A cousin of mine and I have had conversations about that — as far back and as early as when I was still in my teens.

My cousin and I were worried about the ill effects on our family — how the family looked like we have been cursed, what with all the chaos and drama taking place, and constantly at that!

She and I had been hoping and praying that my mother would cut whatever evil cords were binding her.

“Bitawan niya na sana kung ano man ang hawak niya” [May she let go of whatever it is that she is in possession of.]

We would echo back those words to each other. In retrospect, ‘may she let go of whatever was possessing her’ would have been a more accurate prayer.

I’m not sure if my cousin was able to muster the courage to tell my mother that. I wasn’t. I was too frightened to cause my mother’s wrath.

I feared to be the recipient of her “nanlilisik na mata!” [glaring eyes, not different from those of the Greek Goddess Medusa whose piercing look turned King Polydectes to stone.]

Oh, countless are the times when I was on the receiving end of my mother’s vile energies, including her infamous, “Gagapang kayong parang mga ahas!” [You will crawl like snakes!], which she would hurl at us, her children.

It wasn’t just out of sheer frustration and pent-up anger. My mother meant it.

When angered, spewing toxic energies, particularly her vile expressions and evil pronouncements, came instinctual to my mother — much to my utter distaste and grave horror, quite naturally.

“Para siyang sinasapian.” [It’s like an evil spirit has come over her.]

Even in her “sober” state, she would not be regretful about having uttered them nor show any sign of remorse.

She would even boast about it with her constant stern warning, “Alalahanin ninyo, may krus ako sa dila! Masama akong magbitiw ng salita!” [“Remember, I have a cross on my tongue! It’s dangerous when I proclaim something!”] Insinuating — threatening — that she could foretell an event. That whatever she says, whatever comes out of her [wicked and venomous] mouth comes true — especially when she’s fuming mad.

It was one of my mother’s eerie strategies — scaring us to be obedient and avoid enraging her.

Even as I’m writing about it now, I quiver in fear — and shake my head in disbelief about how such horrific declarations could come out of a mother’s mouth, directed at her children at that, her own flesh and blood! And how I endured it throughout my childhood and adult life.

I was disturbed by and badly feared the worsening situation in the family, the endless conflicts, and all. Much as I wanted to ask my mother to let go of whatever it is that she was in possession of, I was so terrified that she would not take it well and strike back.

After all, she can be quite vindictive — with her children not being spared from her cruelty. Obviously, I didn’t want to take that risk.

I just continued praying silently — and eventually kept away from the toxicity when I chose no contact — for my sanity, safety, and well-being.

The Visits with the Black Magicians

Growing up, I would sometimes tag along with my mother during her visits with the practitioners. I would listen in on their conversations.

My mother would always bring up her dilemma about my father’s constant womanizing ways. The practitioners would give her an “oracion” [prayer] or a concoction that they instructed her to mix with my father’s drink.

Of course, my mother wouldn’t tell my father the real purpose of the concoction. She would invent some other lame explanation, which persuaded my father to oblige — as a “dutiful” husband does, ironic as that sounds.

But the concoction didn’t succeed in mending my father’s womanizing ways. When they finally separated after being together for 34 years, the majority of the time of which was in misery, my father chose to be with another woman and started another family.

As early as my primary school days, my mother would ask my siblings and me to wear belts around our waists or keep a small pouch in our pockets or anywhere near our bodies. Referred to locally as “panangga” [shield], it is a talisman to ward off dark, harmful, or evil energies, which was crafted by the magicians.

My mother would make us drink potions, too — to help us with our studies, supposedly. Or so she claimed.

Well, that’s what she said to convince us to drink the potion-filled beverage. I had suspected and intuited it was to make us obedient children — not very different from how she intended for my father — to bow down and accede to all her wishes.

Quite naturally, we would oblige — as any “dutiful” children do. Frightened is more like it. But as with my father, the potion also did not take effect because the fights in the family not only continued; they became worse and more frequent!

 Reconnecting With My Cousin

Early this year, I got reconnected with that same cousin with whom I had conversations about my mother’s association with black magic. We connected up briefly around the time of my mother’s passing last February.

We recalled those “magic” days of my mother, especially casting a spell on my father, in her desperate attempt to keep him faithful to her. My cousin had also accompanied my mother to those visits and witnessed the spells that they cast on my father, including the concoctions.


In all my travels in the Philippines and abroad, and as I began my healing journey and got connected with numerous healers, shamans, and medicine men and women, I would consult with them on the heaviness that I felt with my mother’s dark, evil energies and how perplexed, worried, and scared I was.

They confirmed the dark energies that surrounded my mother. How deeply trapped and enslaved she was in and by them. Quite often, they would sense the energies even before I brought it up.

I sought their help on how to get my mother out of the dark pit.

You know, as any concerned and dutiful daughter would.

To be continued – Ancestral Curse. My Mother’s Spell On Me! [Said the Medicine Woman.]


Copyright © 2011-2020 Nadine Marie and Aligning With Truth

About NadineMarie (Aligning With Truth)

I find much joy & fulfillment in sharing my experiences & insights through writing & blogging. I created the site, ALIGNING WITH TRUTH as a virtual center for healing where I share my thoughts & reflections, as well as the tools & resources that are helping me as I move along the path of awakening & coming home to the Self. As I live in joy & align with Truth, I AM shining my Light which is how I contribute to the planetary & humanity ascension. Brightest & Magical Blessings!!! Om Shanti. Namaste...💗💖💜Nadine Marie💜💖💗
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9 Responses to My Mother’s Association With Black Magic

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