10/07/2026
CONFESSION FROM BAFOUSSAM
“I WAS PART OF A NIGHT CULT”
True confession from Bafoussam, West Region of Cameroon
I never thought I’d tell anyone. But you are strong enough and your rituals are disturbing our world since sometime ago I tried attacking you.
Yes, I am part of an evil cult. We call ourselves "The Keepers of the Moon Blood." We sacrifice men’s destinies in exchange for favor, fame, and fortune. We sacrifice beautiful young women for riches and babies to stay forever young. Yes, I said babies!
We operate mostly in Bafoussam, Mbouda, and Dschang. Our favorite hunting grounds are clubs, roadside brothels, and orphanages. We dress seductively, act vulnerable, and once you follow us or sleep with us… you’re marked.
Our sacrifice begins exactly at 2AM. That’s when the air is thin, the spirits rise, and the gates between the living and the dead open. We draw a circle with ashes from a burnt Blood Bible( our bloody secret book), and pour animal blood mixed with our victims’ tears into a horned skull.
Then we chant in tongues that are not of man. You wouldn’t understand them even if you heard. Our leaders, those you respect in society appear in their spirit form, floating. They drink the blood from a gourd passed around, blood drained from a young victim sacrificed earlier.
We target orphans, especially newborns. That’s why we donate to orphanages so we have access. Some of us pretend to adopt, then offer the child during the next blood moon. Others lure women who just gave birth, promising help and money, only to vanish with the baby.
Once we’ve taken a man’s glory, he begins to lose focus, fail in business, struggle in marriage, or just die mysteriously. Sometimes, we let him live but as a shadow of himself. He becomes our puppet.
I’ve drunk blood. I’ve watched hearts ripped from the chest of sleeping men. I’ve seen a woman’s womb offered to the fire while she was still breathing. You won’t see it in the physical, but spiritually, she bled out.
Why am I telling you this?
Because I’m tired. I hear screams at night, I see dead babies in my dreams, and I smell burning flesh even in the daytime. I see shadows watching me when I’m alone. My beauty is fading. My soul is rotting. We were told we’d never grow old, but now our faces are cracking… spiritually eaten by the demons we feed.
If you’ve ever escaped a strange accident, sudden sickness, or unexplained madness someone may have marked you. If you keep meeting strange women in clubs or roadsides and can’t remember how you got home they may have taken your star.
Beware of who touches you. Not every “hello” is friendly. Some are spiritual hooks to drag you into a pit you’ll never escape from.
Forgive me… if I ever touched your life. Pray for your soul. And stay away from the streets at 2AM. That’s when we roam.
🔺Pray. Fast. Stay spiritually alert. The war is real.
West Cameroon is under siege in the spirit.
🧿🧿🧿
PLEASE LET’S SHARE MASSIVELY TO EDUCATE THE MASSES. Thanks...
