Growing up in town, my experience with rural life was limited to occasional visits to my grandparents. Being a CorpsAfrica/Malawi Volunteer, I am now immersed in the rural community life in Lilongwe district. At first, I had high expectations, envisioning a perfect life, but being here full-time has given me a more realistic perspective. When I first arrived in the community, I was struck by its natural beauty; the huge trees and lush green fields brought me a sense of peace and calmness. I was excited to experience the serene atmosphere, both day and night, unaware of the challenges that lay ahead. I felt grateful for the sofas that filled my living room in my house, as I hate empty spaces. The sofas not only made me feel at home, but they also provided comfort, whether I was sitting or lying down, making my home feel cozy and relaxing. But one night, the tranquility was shattered by an unexpected noise that broke the string of restful nights I had been having. I was relaxed in bed, scrolling through Facebook around 7 pm, when the noise caught my attention.

I froze in fear, wondering what was happening, questions swirled in my mind, particularly whether I had locked the back door. I held my breath, my body tense, as the noise sounded like someone was moving the sofas, with footsteps getting closer then fading away, making the tension even more unbearable. The chilly evening couldn’t account for the sweat covering me. I checked my phone and saw it was early, but my fear was already intense. Paralyzed with fear, I couldn’t scream or react. But then I recalled a scripture, reminding myself to be strong and courageous. I gathered all courage, and started singing a gospel song, my voice trembling as I gazed at the iron sheets. The noises abruptly ceased. With a surge of courage, I opened the bedroom door and was relieved to find the living room untouched, just as I had left it. The sofas were still in place, and I was left puzzled, wondering what had just happened, since I never experienced anything like it before. Still shaken, I continued singing the gospel song, now with renewed energy and passion, as if celebrating a triumph.

The next morning, I told my host mother the entire story, and she could not help but laugh, suggesting that perhaps my imagination had run wild, given the strong presence of witchcraft beliefs in many rural areas. This experience taught me the importance of facing my fears head-on and taking action. By stepping out of my comfort zone, I overcame the unknown, whereas staying in fear could have led to more panic. Taking that step was a turning point. The memory of that night still lingers, I find myself replaying the sound of those footsteps; and I will just have to leave it to time to lift the veil on that mysterious night.