The first time I experienced Sleep Paralysis “duppy hol dung” was when I was a child of six years old in Jamaica, this is my earliest memory. It was torturous. I heard my mother singing in the kitchen, I felt the sun streaming in and beaming down on my bed, I heard the birds in our next door neighbour’s Mr. Henry mango tree whistling, and I could not wake up. I smelled my mother’s ackee and saltfish that she was preparing for breakfast and I tried to scream but could not. I felt my father’s presence come into my room, smelled the ganja he was smoking and I wanted to shout “Daddy help me!” but my lips could not move. The air was tight and I felt as if I would suffocate, I had not thought of death back then while this happened or the fear of it, I just wanted my mother. My small body attempted to shake myself awake and all of a sudden I jolted awake, gasping for air. Ears ringing, heart racing, me sweating and afraid. It was to be the first (perhaps the first, this was my first memory) of many of my sleep paralysis experiences, and when I became Obara Meji, the experience took on a different feeling, a very different one…



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This email was sent to me about several months ago, the blogger did not say I could share it, and so after the post I posted yesterday on this very same topic, I emailed him and I asked if I could share, because I wanted to open the eyes of people about these entities, the gentleman gave me the go ahead, and so here is his and several more stories on incubus succubus, sexual malevolent demons, who are let loose upon the earth, and doing a lot of damage through the act of sex.




At bloggers Kia Bublez request I have decided to repost this blog which I did several years ago. I look at the word count and it is 492 words, Wow! I cannot believe I use to write this small amount of words back in the day. Thank you Kia for your encouragement and your suggestions of topics to repost, I need it from time to time. I may be strong in almost everything, but I am now believing that I may have to work on my fear of rejection. If you all read my life stories here you all will understand.




When I was a little girl in Jamaica, my aunt who lived in America came to Jamaica to visit my Grandmother, my mother’s mother. We , my mother and I along with my sisters went to the country to meet up with them and to stay there until she returned to the states, this was Lucea Hanover, Jamaica. I remember going there and my grandmother would always cry whenever any of her children and grand children came visiting, whether from “Foreign” or Kingston. She would cry out “Pickney dem come”! My children are here, and tears of joy would pour from her eyes, then she would cook for us.




I decided to re -blog this post which was done in 2011, to get a better understanding of who Peanut is please read This post and  This post. Today is a very busy day for me, but I will settle down with you all later. Enjoy 

In continuation with Peanut and his post death activities. Here is another story that is sad but it also lets you realize that the departed are so very close. This is the song that Peanut dedicated to my friend after he had crossed over. I have included the song with lyrics so that you can see the words that he wanted her to hear!!!…So sad!!





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I once had a friend who lived on Long Island, New York, she was Chinese Jamaican who had married an Italian guy and they had two children, we were friends from high school. She invited me over for a weekend and I decided to go along with my three year old daughter and I was also pregnant. The baby father had gone away for a while and so I was lonely and thought why not, and so I went. After all the years I had lived in America from I was a very small girl, who knew I would see a real duppy/ghost in America. Sure we had glimpses of them when I lived with my parents in an Italian neighborhood in New York, but those flittering ghost would scramble throughout our apartment as soon as they heard our keys turning in the locks signaling our return home. All we saw were shadows running wildly. There was this time when my sisters and I had come home from a party about four in the morning, we had forgotten our keys and so our mother opened the door for us. She always told us that if we came home late we should walk in the house backwards into the house and by doing so ghost could not enter, probably this worked with olden days duppy but these nowadays ghost fear no one. I do not remember if we did this that night or morning I should say but as I settled beside one of the sisters to sleep, I saw a head peeping at me from out in the kitchen, I screamed and it disappeared. On cue my mother came out of her room flashing some kind of liquid and cussing us for bringing ghost into her house by coming home at that hour. It was scary, very scary!..Ghost always fascinated me, and that is a funny thing for me to say since I made it no secret that while growing up I was a coward. It was like the song, I Always Feel Like Someone Is Watching Me, did this guy know on with the story..So we arrived in Long Island and my friend met us at the train station, little did I know that I would have an experience of a life time…Foreign duppy!! More


I had been warned by diviners that I should never attend funerals, cemeteries, burials and things of those nature because the dead loves me and I would be sick if I ever did. As a child growing up in Jamaica I used to go to Maxfield park, in the actual park after leaving school with  my friends to play there. There were old graves scattered in the park, most of them demolished and I remembered laying on them while my friends played oblivious to the fact that these were graves I didn’t care. Children are so innocent. I had never liked to see a funeral procession. People dressed in black crying and  mourning, it was sad. Things like those anything that had to do with death made me sad and even has a teenager, the thought off death scared the hell out of me as I’m sure with most people. More


My mother was a Spiritualist.  She knew Things.  Lots of things, she worked for the University Of The West Indies, as a theatre room technician, but whenever we were ill and that was not very often, she took care of us, no running us to the hospital to see the Doctor. My mother had a co-worker, I never knew her name, I just remember that she was very dark-skinned, with sad-looking eyes and she would visit my mother ever Saturday and sit on the verandah while my mother prepared medicines for her to drink, I was about six or seven years old at the times. Mama (that’s what we called her) would put some green liquid out of a small vial on the womans forehead and the back of her neck, while praying for her, the woman would cry when my mother prayed softly and I remember feeling sad for her. Miss Ruth, one of my mothers friends, a short light-skinned woman who didn’t like children, (we knew, even though my mother didn’t), asked my mother what was wrong with her, (Miss Ruth lived around the road, but would come every evening to sit on our verandah every night until late with my mother), and I remember Mama telling her that  “duppy inna har” (a malevolent spirit possessed her), and that it was placed on her by a fellow co-worker, mama also said that the woman did not have long to live. I felt sad for her and use to suck my thumb and watch on Saturdays when my mother treated her.

One particular Saturday while my mother treated the lady, our neighbor who shared the house with us (it was a tenement yard), Miss Will (remember this name as you will hear a lot about this evil woman in future blogs), brother, who was known as drunka-ready Freddie, ( in Jamaica you are nicknamed according to your occupation, looks or habits), who came into our yard drunk as usual, staggered onto our verandah, when he saw the lady who my mother treated, he in his drunken state pointed at her and screamed  “Sass crise, si de duppy deh!!!”  (Jesus Christ, look at that ghost!!), as soon as he said that he fell to the ground with an attack of fits, writhing on the ground and foaming at the mouth, my mother and all the adults attended to him. The woman died a couple of weeks after that, but I never forgot the story, people said that because drunka-ready Freddie saw the duppy/ghost, it got mad and boxed (slapped) him.   I was sad for the woman, it was from that memory, that I realized the power of witchcraft. Drunkaready Freddie did not know the woman, nor did Miss (evil) Will his sister know what afflicted her, so he must have seen something, and remember what my mother told Miss Ruth?……..what do you all think?? please tell me. Jamaica full ah dem story yah!!