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⚡ War Voodoo in Ogume: How Fulani Bandits Met Their Match ⚡

💥 Found Online & Too Intense to Ignore

While scrolling through social media recently, I came across a story that stopped me dead in my tracks. A true story, shared by a Facebook user, so chilling and vivid that I had to bring it to you.

Now, I must warn you: this account is unverified, but the details are haunting—and it shows a side of rural survival and ancestral power that most people have never seen.

Here’s the story exactly as I found it:

My first encounter with war voodoo and how Fulani bandits CANNOT withstand it if properly utilized was years ago when I was serving.

I was posted to a community called Ogume in Ndokwa West of Delta state.
I taught Creative Arts at the popular Ogume Grammar School.

☀️ A Sunny Afternoon That Changed Everything
I will never forget that sunny afternoon I was returning to my PPA from school break in Port Harcourt, where I went to spend my holidays, because I couldn't travel all the way back home to Uyo.
I was on a bike, thundering down the desolate stretch of that Ogume-Amai highway from Kwale, when my bike man suddenly cut the brakes and meandered us into the bush nearby.

I thought he had lost his mind.
"Oga, you dey craze??" I fumed as the wet weed and mud splattered all over my khaki pants.

He signaled me to hush up and stay low behind some thicket, then he jabbed his finger ahead and that was when I saw it.

🔫 The Fulani Herdsmen Encounter
A group of Fulani herdsmen with turbans and automatic rifles were dragging a young villager out of the bushes to the center of the tarred road.
The young man looked not more than 19 and had light bruises all over.
He wore a faded Brazil jersey that was badly torn to reveal an amulet dangling from his neck.

He appeared like he had been struggling with someone in a fight and rolling on soil.

The Fulani herdsmen were speaking rapidly and slapping him, and before we knew it, one of them cocked his rifle and fired point-blank at this young native.

As the smoke cleared, we were shocked to see the young native still standing and not on the floor.
His left arm was clenched against his chest defensively and resolutely—otherwise he looked unscathed.

The Fulani herdsmen we saw were about 13. I will never forget that number because what followed next haunts me till this day.

Each of the 13 Fulani herdsmen opened fire into the head and body of this young man continuously.
It was like a fireworks display.

They riddled his body with bullets and literally blasted the young man from one side of the expressway to the other side.
His body was flung back and forth like a rag doll as the volley of bullets rammed into his anatomy in quick succession.

All the young man chanted repeatedly was "Kweke!!"

From where we watched, there was no perforation on his body. Not a single gunshot wound. Not a single drop of blood.

🐂 The Shocking Finale
The herdsmen pinned this young man to the ground and one of them tried to slit his throat with his dagger, but the blade refused to eat into his skin, and the villager just lay there bellowing "Kweke!!" continuously.

They spent 10 minutes ferociously matchetting this young man, but he sustained not a single cut or tear.

Finally, they tied his legs and hands, dragged him back to their side of the road, consulted, and then… the unusual spectacle happened.

Two of them vanished into the swampy forest and led back a particularly large bull with horns like weapons made from rhinoceros horns and elephant tusks.

Five herdsmen held the cow in position. Three grabbed the villager, hefted him on their shoulders, ambled towards the bull, and slammed him repeatedly into the horns.

The young man cried in pain and started bleeding.
Within five tries, the cow's horns impaled his abdomen and rib cage, and the irate bull tossed his dismembered body to the ground, stomping repeatedly.

The herdsmen stood by laughing and pointing, firing shots into the air to signal victory.

🩸 The Aftermath
We were in a daze over what we just witnessed.
Over 23 dismembered and decapitated bodies lay in the bush nearby.
Ogume Youths. None more than 20 years old.

The villagers brought all 24 bodies to the village center and mourned for 14 days, painting ash on their foreheads the entire period.

Ogume was declared out of bounds for any Fulani or Hausa person from that moment.
No Fulani herdsmen could cross the boundary of Ogume and survive past 30 minutes.

Even in Utuwe, the last and remotest village of Ogume, the war voodoo protects every person.

🛡️ The Power of War Voodoo
Ogume indigenes do not rely on rifles or sophisticated weapons. They only know how to use native protection their ancestors gave them.
They avoid certain creatures and are forbidden from consuming them, yet they remain a fearless breed of humans.

Imagine if communities in Benue, Taraba, Kwara, Niger, and Plateau states adopted this method of self-defense years ago…

Religious Christians may call it Satanism—but Ogume chose survival over convention, and the results speak for themselves.

⚠️ Reflection
Do we really believe it is the wish of God in heaven for anyone to be gruesomely murdered in their prime by a group of bloodthirsty maniacs?

📌 Source: Story from Facebook user (Unverified)