IT’s a well-known fact that blood is full of proteins and lipids (fats etc), and can be a very nutritious meal.
Ever wonder why some people like black-pudding so much? Two Sundays ago, Sunday Pepperpot carried a story in its ‘Way Back When’ column titled, Ol’ Higue. That story carried details about Ol’ Higues — human beings endowed with certain mystic powers that make them capable of flying and crawling through crevices and under bedroom doors, and feeding on the blood of other human beings.
The story, published in the May 28, 1972 edition of the Sunday Chronicle, depicted these otherworldly beings as folklore and popular superstitions, and as symbols of evil.
In the end, the author asked: Did Ol’ Higues really exist? Do they still, in this modern day and age?
A reader, a young lady named Rondell, replied to the story saying: “Yes! They do exist! And exist even now!”
Rondell is a firm believer in the paranormal, and she says she has had quite a few experiences with Ol’ Higues.
She, however, disclosed that her grandmother, Esther, an aged woman, can be considered an expert on the phenomenon.
Last week, the senior citizen disclosed information about the subject of Ol’ Higues (whom she also called vampires) based on paranormal events she experienced as a child growing up in rural Guyana, in Buxton village, in the 1930s and 1940s.
Esther busted the myth that Ol’ Higues were mainly women.
“Men suck too!” she said.
She also explained how Ol’ Higues are able to pass on their powers, or their curses, to the next generation.
She described a paranormal experience she had when she was about twelve years old.
“Was at Golden Grove! (a village on the East Coast Demerara) A man name Pratt! He live near ahwe. He live in a cow pen; ah ole, bruk-up cow pen. He nuh gat house; all dem lil bhai and lil gyal nah go near deh. Dat man nah good; dat man ah suck. Me still ah guh. He does kiss me han’.
“One night, a Saturday night, ahwe drink mauby, eat biskit and cheese and tennis roll and cheese, and buns. It get late; fowl cock start crow fuh mawning. Ahwe deh sit down in de shop. Me auntie sick, and me noint she skin all ovah. She two daughta get baby. Now, everybaddy get sleepy. Me auntie an’ all drap asleep. Soon, everybaddy in de house drap asleep. Something say, ‘Esther, open dat door’.
“Now, when you see me do something, ah something gaan wrang. When me open de door now, me see fire ah walk. Me living heah, and over suh is a big sweet-water trench. Me see fire a walk pon we side ah de dam. Fire out den light back. Fire out den light back. Fire out den light back. Fire ah walk. Me wake up me auntie. Me auntie git up. She guh to de door; she see de fire. She holler, ‘Oh gawd, shut de door! He guh blind me!’ She go in back guh guh lay down.
“Me want fuh know wheh dis fire ah guh. When me auntie gone back guh lay down, me ah peep through dem hole. Fire ah walk. Backyard had a calabash tree, but by then, me done know is Pratt. And he gone by de tree. Me seh, ‘Alright. Meh guh ketch lil five (a little rest) then meh guh see wha he do under de tree’. Five o’clock meh wake up. As soon as meh wake up me guh backyard fuh see wha he do under de tree. When me guh, me see wan calabash get in blood, but de blood thick like ah livah.
“Meh auntie seh dat man ah suck: He ah suck cow; he ah suck baby; he ah suck anything he ketch. He nah ah eat. One saucepan glamacherry bush he does boil. He nah ah cook, he nah ah eat.
“Same mawning meh see he come out. When he come out, me ah watch am; me ah watch he. Like me cyant done watch he! He see meh; he nah ah say nutten. Two day after… he disappear! He move out from Golden Grove. Nobody know wheh he gone; all dem gyal ah Golden Grove ah seh de man gone, man; de man gone. Ahwe ah dead wid laff!
“Wan day, me auntie bust coconut and mek coconut oil and chaanchy, and something more she give me in a bag fuh tek to me friend muddah in Victoria. When me guh by me friend muddah, me butt up wid de man Pratt pon de road. Meh seh, ‘Eh-eh, Mr. Pratt move out from Golden Gove and live heah?’ Meh seh, ‘Good afternoon, Mr. Pratt.’ He nah answer.**
“Dat place Victoria! Dat whole place full wid it (Ol’ Higue). Me nah guh back at Victoria.”
“Me tell me auntie meh see he at Victoria; meh auntie tell me when me see he dat night at Golden Grove wid fire on, fire off, was sing he been ah sing fuh ah spirit get in meh body. And wuzzn’t really he meh see; was he shadow meh bin see,” Esther, now in her seventies, said.
To be continued…
(Clifford Stanley can be reached to discuss any of the foregoing articles at cliffantony@gmail.com or cell phone # 657-2043)