|
Eleni Frangatos |
|
|
|
ZIMBABUE
A DREAM
– OUT OF
BODY
EXPERIENCE
(OBE)
|
My
two-year
old son
is with
me. I
hold him
on my
side
seated
on my
hip,
with my
right
arm
embracing
his
waist,
like I
always
do when
I take
him with
me so he
can
watch
the
landscape
in front
of him.
His
little
tennis
shoes
with
stripes
in
various
colors,
his
swimming
trunks,
the
gaudy
colored
T-shirt,
the
yellow
cap he
likes so
much.
All of a
sudden,
I see
myself
walking
on a
path in
the
midst of
“bushvelt”
- a
reddish
sand
path
surrounded
by
bushes.
I also
see on
my left
the
remainder
of an
old
colonial
type
construction
covered
with
zinc
plates.
These
very
old,
abandoned,
and in
ruins
buildings
are
found in
the
heartland
of
Africa,
and were
used as
railway
stations
in
places
lost
here and
there in
the
vastness
of this
continent,
remnants
of the
British
Empire
ruler.
There is
a wall
made of
stones.
Some of
the
stones
are
already
loose by
the
action
of time
and
wind,
and have
fallen
to the
ground.
Leaning
against
this
wall,
holding
a
Sheppard’s
crooked
staff,
stands a
wrinkled,
old
black
man,
with a
big
straw
hat
shading
his eyes
and
covering
his grey
hair. In
his
mouth,
he has a
very
basic
handmade
pipe.
Beyond,
runs a
mighty
river of
muddy
waters.
I
approach
the old
man, I
greet
him
respectfully
with the
earned
respect
that
comes
with his
age, and
ask him
if I can
bathe in
that
river
and if
the
river
has
crocodiles.
I ask
him this
without
knowing
the
reason,
because,
in fact,
I have
no
intention
of
entering
those
dark
waters,
much
less
with my
son.
With a
distant
expression
and a
slowness
of those
who have
tired by
watching
time go
by, he
removes
his pipe
from his
lips and
a faint
smoke
curls in
space.
- It's
up to
you – he
says -
life is
a river.
With or
without
crocodiles,
there
are
always
risks.
Only you
will
know
whether
or not
to enter
that
river.
The risk
is all
yours.
I was
going to
say
something,
when the
old man
magically
disappeared.
I look
to my
right,
and
surprisingly
my
deceased
grandparents,
holding
hands,
walk in
my
direction,
smiling.
In a
fraction
of a
second,
they
vanish
too.
In front
of me is
the
mighty,
wide,
powerful
river.
On the
river
banks, I
see
undergrowth
and
small
shrubs.
The
constant
sound of
the
muddy
waters,
gushing
to the
mouth,
plays a
symphony
in the
silence
of the
forest.
Here and
there,
the
water
surrounds
boulders
and
vegetation.
The
river
instills
in me
fear and
respect.
As I
walk to
the
river,
the
water –
on my
left
side –
becomes
clearer
and
clearer.
In the
middle
of the
river,
to my
left,
there is
now
crystal
clear
water.
On my
right
side,
however,
the
water
remains
dark,
thick
and
muddy.
Suddenly,
a
deafening
sound…
I stop
at a
distance
of the
bank. A
huge
fish
appears.
I've
never
seen
such a
fish. It
reminds
him of a
dolphin
that
crossed
with a
swordfish,
with a
long
pointed
beak,
light
silver
gray,
mixed
with
colored
spots
like a
watery
rainbow.
It's
beautiful!
The fish
moves in
very
slow
movements,
going in
and out
of
water,
like
drawing
several
imaginary
arcs,
displaying
all its
beauty,
spreading
the
water
into
small
droplets
of gold
and
silver.
Suddenly,
a
deafening
sound...
to my
right
side;
the
dark,
muddy
water of
a
reddish
brown,
whirlwinds,
revolves,
and
large
amounts
of water
rise,
while
huge
bubbles
of
oxygen
are
released
on the
surface.
An
indefinite
volume
begins
to
emerge.
I
involuntarily
remember
the Loch
Ness
monster
in
Scotland.
I look
at my
son. He
is not
disturbed,
he is
oblivious,
not a
sign of
fear. To
my
surprise,
I do not
feel any
fear
either.
The
massive
volume,
coming
out from
the
middle
of the
muddy
waters,
begins
to gain
contour.
A huge,
gigantic
black
man
stands
in front
of me.
The
water
runs
down his
herculean
body
back
into the
river.
His dark
skin now
gleams
in the
sunlight.
He has
an
athletic,
muscular,
proportional
body, a
real
Greek
ebony
statue.
A black
loin
cloth
adorns
his
hips.
And
there he
is,
standing
with his
legs
apart,
arms
slightly
away
from the
body,
abdomen
tight in
a bundle
of
muscles.
The body
slightly
arched
is bent
forward
in my
direction.
His
thick
black
hair,
abundant,
rises
above
his head
on three
levels,
as if on
a
structure
of its
own,
falling
profusely
to
shoulder
height.
Strangely
it is
straight
hair and
not the
curly
hair of
the
black
Africans
of that
area.
He looks
at me.
His eyes
have an
intense
light in
them. I
cannot
describe
his
penetrating
eyes.
Suddenly,
the
feeling
of peace
takes
over and
it is as
if the
world
stops.
Nothing
moves.
His eyes
lock
deeply
into
mine and
I feel
as if I
am
hovering
in space
and
nothing
evil can
happen
to me. I
am
totally
safe and
under
the
protection
of this
soul. My
son is
no
longer
in my
arms and
still I
am not
concerned.
The
glowing
look of
this
beautiful
creature
makes me
static,
enraptured,
and I
cannot
divert
my eyes
from
him, as
if my
life
depends
on this
creature.
This man
knows
everything
about
me. I
need to
say
nothing
about
myself.
Zimbabue
was his
name
His
voice
makes
itself
heard in
a
perfect
firm
tone,
not
aggressive,
conveying
the
certainty
that
only
millennia
of
knowledge
makes
one
acquire.
- I am
Zimbabue.
I'm an
African
warrior.
I have
lived
for
many,
many
years,
in a
time
that
cannot
be
measured.
I fight
every
injustice
and
protect
those
who need
help. I
came to
help
you, to
show you
your
mission.
You have
finally
asked
for
help, so
I am
here for
you.
I've
always
been by
your
side,
just
watching
and
unable
to help,
because
you did
not want
to be
helped.
You
always
thought
you
could
control
everything
in your
life.
Like
everybody
else,
you have
free
will.
You can
do
whatever
you
want.
But
whenever
you feel
down,
shaken
and your
strength
has
gone,
call me!
I will
come to
your
rescue.
You're
not
alone.
At the
moment,
you are
weak,
powerless,
sad,
very
sad,
because
you are
not
willing
to
surrender
to your
mission
on
Earth.
Do not
be
afraid
to live
it.
You're a
Light
Warrior,
just
like me.
Warriors
suffer,
they
feel all
suffering
with a
great
intensity,
they try
to help
other
people,
and are
misunderstood,
sometimes
they are
wronged,
but they
fight,
they
always
fight.
You have
been
fighting
for
values
that
to a
true
warrior
mean
nothing,
because
you use
your
time and
energy
in
frivolous
matters
so
insignificant
in
relation
to the
whole
Universe...
so your
struggle
has been
inglorious.
Your
fight,
the real
fight,
is
starting
now, if
you so
wish.
It's the
warrior's
fight,
and it
is the
fight of
total
surrender.
There is
no
greater,
no more
difficult
and
painful
struggle
than
that of
total
surrender.
You will
suffer a
lot, but
you will
succeed
and
improve
spiritually.
Your
energy
is low;
you have
no
dreams
and have
let go;
your
belief
is
buried
under
doubts;
you lost
your
path.
Everything
that you
have
been
fighting
for has
always
involved
some
second
intention,
some
interest.
That is
the
reason
for your
failure.
I'm here
to help
you. I
have
waited
for you
in
silence,
for this
very
moment.
I could
do
nothing
for you,
just
waited
for you
to
humbly
become
aware
that you
need
help.
Your
time has
come.
From now
on,
things
in your
past
that you
thought
were
weird,
crazy,
caused
by your
imagination
will
begin to
be
understood,
and you
will
accept
them.
Your
doubts
about
Spirits
and
afterlife,
which
have
haunted
you for
such a
long
time,
will now
vanish.
Everything
will
change
in your
life.
You will
just
have to
change
your
attitude.
Stop
thinking
that
what
happens
to you
are just
"coincidences".
Look at
your
past,
How many
"coincidences"
did you
miss by
not
believing
them?
You have
been the
exterminator
of your
own
dreams.
Zimbabue
then
raises
his
arms,
turns
his
palms
towards
me, his
look
seems
like
fire
consuming
me. From
his
hands
come two
rays of
emerald
light.
One is
directed
at my
heart,
the
other is
focused
at the
point
between
my eyes.
A
restrained
breath
comes
from his
lips as
if an
inner
energy
is
passing
from him
to me.
Was it
just a
dream?
I wake
up,
stunned,
drowsy,
very
sweaty,
not
knowing
where I
am. A
few
minutes
later,
very
slowly,
I
recognize
my
bedroom.
I get
up, take
a towel
and dry
my body.
I go to
the
balcony
– on the
tenth
floor,
from
where I
can see
the “Boa
Viagem”
beach in
the city
of
Recife.
A huge
moon is
hanging
over the
sea. The
heat is
suffocating
even
though a
light
breeze
blows
once in
a while
from the
ocean.
I sit on
the
veranda
and go
over the
detailed
dream.
My son
in the
dream
was two
years
old. It
was as
if I was
taken
back to
the time
that I
left
Africa.
25 years
had
passed,
and here
I was in
Brazil
to where
I fled
because
of the
colonial
war.
Twenty-five
years...
I missed
my
Africa
so much!
So much
emotion
suffocated,
repressed,
pushed
to the
bottom
of my
heart,
how many
struggles
in vain,
suffering,
disappointment,
doubt,
insecurity,
resentment,
rejection,
and
loneliness
corroding
me
slowly -
pain,
pain,
pain
which as
child I
had
never
been
able to
deal
with.
Where
were my
dreams?
What did
I do to
my life?
Where
was that
little
girl
with
blond
plaits,
blue
eyes,
full of
hope?
Why did
I always
ignore
my
childhood,
my
family,
why did
I avoid
even
thinking
about
it?
My life
was a
collection
of
losses,
a
collection
of
farewells.
Goodbye,
bye!
Bye!
Bye! How
many
times
had I
uttered
those
words,
sobbing?
I had
lost
count.
Farewell
to my
father,
my hero,
my
grandparents,
the city
where I
was born
and to
my
husband,
the good
jobs,
the
cities
where I
lived;
to the
friends
whom I
left
behind...
passions,
loves of
my
life...
to my
son -
always
goodbye,
goodbye,
goodbye.
I could
not
stand
any kind
of
farewell
any
longer...
I
fought!
God! How
I
struggled!
Lately,
I did
not
fight
any
more.
As I
struggled
with
each
movement
the
ropes
and
chains
of life
kept me
still
destroying
more and
more the
possibility
of any
dream
coming
true,
cutting
deeply
into my
flesh,
heart
and
soul. To
tell you
the
truth, I
did not
even
bother
to dream
any
longer.
It was
as if
life had
finally
won over
the
fierce
and
untamed
lioness
that I
was, and
the
worst of
it is
that I,
myself,
had
allowed
all
this. As
time
went by
I felt
my
fighting
attempts
weaken
and this
frightened
me,
panic
devoured
my
heart,
and
chewed
my
reasoning...
nothing
was
right in
my
life...
Who was
I at the
moment?
Where
had all
my
strength
gone to?
I had
lost
myself
and my
essence
over the
years...
like the
flickering
flame of
an
extinguishing
candle.
I so
wanted
to
travel
to
Africa.
My
family
lived in
Cape
Town. It
crossed
my mind
to go
and be
with
them for
a while,
but I
knew I
could
not do
it then.
It was
impossible.
I heard
Zimbabue,
as if he
was
there
beside
me:
“Don’t
fight
against
your own
wish.
Don’t
doubt.
Let the
Higher
Spirits
help
you”.
Africa,
Africa,
my land:
mysterious,
warm,
mystical
Africa
of
multiple
landscapes,
the
smell of
mother
Earth,
Africa
of
amazing
splendors,
unforgettable
sunrises
and
sunsets.
The
scorching
sun,
boiling
blood in
one’s
veins,
hallucinations…
Danger
and
ecstasy!
All so
very
intense!
- Higher
Spirit?
Spirit
of
Light?
” I do
not
know!
“Zimbabue!
Whoever
you are
help
me! I'm
very
tired”.
I had
lost
everything
during
the
African
war and
had to
leave my
country
with a
small
son and
a
husband
in
shock.
Brazil
welcomed
me with
open
arms. I
had no
money
and knew
nobody
and this
made it
very
difficult
in the
beginning.
I
did’nt
even had
time to
cry!
Suddenly,
a
convulsive
cry, a
cry
suffocated
for
years
and
years,
exploded
in
me...and
I cried
my heart
out.
I went
back to
bed and
fell
asleep.
I woke
up with
the
phone
ringing.
From the
distant
land I
could
hear the
cheerful,
enthusiastic
voice of
my
beloved
little
sister,
calling
from
Cape
Town.
- Sis,
surprise!
You won
a ticket
to come
here -
my gift
and my
husband's.
Come and
spend
Christmas
and your
birthday
with us!
Come and
load
your
batteries.
You
need to
come to
the
family.
I love
you sis,
and I
miss you
so much.
And
there I
stood
astonished,
listening,
not
knowing
if I had
dreamt
it
before
or if I
was
dreaming
it at
that
very
moment.
Important
explanation
This
dream or
out of
body
experience
(OBE)
took
place in
the city
of
Recife,
Brazil,
in
1997.
Since
then I
have had
several
other
dreams,
always
guiding
me in my
life,
and all
have
been
very
detailed
and
intense.
When I
wake
from
this
type of
dream, I
always
write it
down at
once,
but
astonishingly
years
have
gone by
and it
seems my
dreams
were
yesterdays’
dreams,
for I
have
never
forgotten
the
details
of any
of
them.
Eleven
years
later,
already
in the
city of
Vinhedo,
State of
Sao
Paulo, I
began to
study
the
Spiritist
Doctrine
and
began to
truly
understand
the
meaning
of these
dreams.
I then
decided
to
investigate
the
origin
of
Zimbabue,
the
African
warrior
with
smooth
hair and
of
enormous
stature
who
accompanies
me
throughout
life,
who in
situations
of
extreme
danger
was seen
standing
beside
me by
other
people,
some of
which
did not
even
know me.
Some
have
associated
this
warrior's
name
with the
country
now
called
Zimbabwe
that
became
independent
in 1980.
This
warrior,
however,
lived a
few
centuries
earlier.
Since I
was born
in
Mozambique
and this
country
has
borders
with
Rhodesia/Zimbabwe,
Zambia,
South
Africa
and
Botswana
and in
my dream
a large
wide
river
appears,
I linked
this to
the
Limpopo
River,
and the
facts
began to
appear:
the
Limpopo
River is
the
second
largest
river in
Southern
Africa
and
serves
as a
border
between
South
Africa,
Botswana
and
Zimbabwe
before
entering
northern
Mozambique!!!
I began
to read
more and
more
about
the
issue,
feeling
the
frenzy
of one
who is
finally
getting
to the
desired
information.
And
then,
out of
nowhere,
came the
following:
Zimbabwe,
or
Zimbabwe
(from
the
dialect
xona,
meaning
"stone
house")
is
located
at a
common
point
between
Mozambique
and the
recent
country
of
Zimbabwe.
However,
contrary
to the
recent
independent
country,
this
other
civilization
appears
in the
first
millennium
A.D. and
was even
considered
by the
UN as
Historical
Patrimony.
It is
said
that
black
men,
large in
size,
with
straight
hair,
perhaps
from
ancient
Egypt,
would
have
descended
to this
region
and
built a
city of
huge
stones
and
towering
walls,
and no
one
knows
where
these
stones
came
from. It
is said
that
these
beings
of great
stature
and
strength,
warriors
without
fear,
and
already
knowing
about
metallurgy,
came
from
other
planets,
and / or
flying
saucers.
To sum
up and
simplify:
no one
knows
until
now
where
they
came
from and
how
those
stones
came to
rest
there,
and
their
straight
hair
contrasting
with the
hair of
the
Africans
of that
place is
another
mystery.
As I
said
previously,
I was
born in
Mozambique,
and
while I
lived in
my
country,
I never
knew or
even
heard
about
this
civilization.
Most
people
are not
aware of
this
place in
the
middle
of the
dense
jungle.
Only 11
years
later,
did I
come to
know it
through
this
revealing
dream
with my
Spiritual
Guide,
Zimbabue!!!
|
There
are
things
that
have no
explanation,
only a
Spiritist
understands...
And,
amazingly!
One day,
out of
nowhere,
I
decided
to look
for
someone
who
could
draw a
picture
of
Zimbabue,
based on
the
above
mentioned
description.
After a
long
search,
I
finally
found
online a
young
girl,
who
volunteered
to draw
the
picture.
I had no
personal
contact
with
her, I
just
sent her
the
description
of my
dream
and she
drew
Zimbabue.
When she
delivered
the
drawing
to me,
she told
me that
she was
a
Spiritist
too… As
for the
image of
my
Spiritual
Guide, I
would
say, it
is 90%
the same
as what
I saw in
my
dream.
|
There
are
things
that
have no
explanation!!! |
|