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KINSHASA, Congo | When Mando Mengi was 5, his mother died and his father remarried.
His stepmother, a tall, mercurial woman with two children of her own, saw Mando as a burden and gave him endless chores while the other kids did nothing.
One day, Mando refused to sweep the dirt floor of their home. His stepmother found a sinister explanation for his stubbornness: He was practicing witchcraft.
She began to withhold food and sometimes beat him, saying it would purge the evil spirits. Finally she gave his father an ultimatum: “You’ve brought a sorcerer into this house,” Mando recalled her saying. “Either he leaves or I do.”
Mando didn’t wait for him to decide. He ran away, joining tens of thousands of children who live on the streets of this broken-down African capital.
In Congo, where belief in the power of spirits and black magic goes back centuries, boys and girls as young as 5 are bearing the brunt of witchcraft allegations that once were reserved for rural women and widows.
With 4 million Congolese thought to have perished mostly from illnesses and hunger since a civil war began in 1998, and with eight in 10 surviving on less than a dollar per day, children are sometimes seen as encumbrances, just more mouths to feed. For some parents and guardians, calling a child a sorcerer offers an easy explanation for their troubles and a chance to rid themselves of a dependent.
Feeding these beliefs are growing revivalist churches where spurious pastors offer to exorcise spirits. There are thought to be more than 2,000 such churches in Kinshasa, a city of about 9 million people.
Aid workers estimate that there are 25,000 to 50,000 children living on the streets, and their numbers are growing. As many as 70 percent have been abandoned for allegedly practicing sorcery, according to a report this year by New York-based Human Rights Watch.
In most cases, the group said, victims of witchcraft allegations had lost one or both parents. Their accusers are usually stepparents or guardians, and the children most often targeted are those with behaviors such as bedwetting, sleepwalking or aggression.
“Poverty and desperation are the basic causes,” said Mike Mwamba, the director of a center for abandoned children in Gombe, a busy commercial section of Kinshasa where hundreds of street kids prowl about the main marketplace.
“It’s a typical case. You see someone losing their job, and they look at home for an explanation. Where is this bad luck coming from? They see the child, who has certain negative characteristics. Maybe he is difficult, maybe he wets his bed. That becomes enough to accuse them of sorcery.”
Jean-Marie Kalonji, a pastor who runs the Fountain of Adoration of God Evangelical Center, claims to be Kinshasa’s expert on the subject.
“Witchcraft is a bigger problem in Congo than AIDS,” said Kalonji.
Kalonji renounces the “false methods” of other pastors, which include burning the sorcerer, extracting flesh from his mouth, beating him with an iron rod, trampling him, making him drink a bottle of palm oil daily for a week, and forcing him to stare at the sun.
Kalonji says his technique involves a lot of prayer but no physical abuse.
Published: Monday, November 6, 2006
Store and building owners vow to rebuild after a suspicious fire gutted Moonflower Magicks in downtown Everett.
When a fire two weeks ago closed the purple gilded New Age shop at the corner of Colby Avenue and California Street, word of the loss shot through the communities that called it home.
"It's pretty much a hub of the neo-pagan community," said Willow Moon, an Italian witch and Wiccan high priestess from Everett. "It's been a big loss."
The arched ceiling is charred black. Temperatures up to 900 degrees melted the shop's light fixtures.
Investigators said the cause of the fire has not been determined. Shop owner Jana "Moonflower" Benson, 63, said she suspects arson.
She moved to the location two years ago - replacing the Silvertips' first headquarters.
The store stocked a wide range of books on paganism, Wicca and old-world, non-Christian traditions. Owners sold aroma-therapy items, incense, oils, candles, gemstones and jewelry. They also sold statues of gods and goddesses, wands and magic supplies used in rituals.
"It had the sense of an old-time country store, a gathering place and very much a safe place," said Theo Williams, a Wiccan from Everett. He said he "came out of the broom closet" 11 years ago to find that most of his friends were Wiccan, too.
"Having Moonflower's here was a blessing," he said, a pentacle hanging from his neck signifying earth, wind, water, fire and spirit. "If I saw the pentacle, I immediately had someplace to send people."
He reflected on the loss of the store while standing in the darkened ruins last week, amid the cloying scent of a hundred broken bottles of fragrant oil.
"I would definitely not want the karma of the person who did this," Williams said.
Critics occasionally hurled slurs like "devil store" at Benson.
The fire claimed a piece of her livelihood, as well as a treasured picture of Jesus bought in a hashish shop in Nepal.
She got a call after the fire, and a person said "see what you get hanging a picture of Jesus in your store," she said.
When there is no knowledge of something, there is fear, said Tamara Benson, Moonflower Benson's daughter.
"We're kind of all walking toward the same place but we're all coming from different directions and follow our own paths to get there," she said. "We're very accepting of everyone and all of their paths."
The support of neighbors and shop visitors is more prevalent - and heartwarming - than criticism, Moonflower Benson said.
"At first it made me cry," she said.
An Everett-based modern pagan discussion group met regularly at the shop. Other classes met upstairs, including Wiccan and Druidry classes taught by Willow Moon.
Shop and building owners vow to rebuild.
"That particular place is still going to be a place within everyone's hearts," Willow Moon said. "The hub is still there. We're all part of that community, that spirit of place. It may be in shock, traumatized, but it hasn't changed. That spirit of place still exists."
Most fires stink, but this one smelled good because of the incense and oils that broke open or burned, Moonflower Benson said.
She said the fire was like the American Indian tradition of smudging, where sage or aromatic herbs are burned.
"I think we smudged Everett," she said. "Everett should be a lot cleaner now."
Reporter Jeff Switzer: 425-339-3452 or jswitzer@heraldnet.com.
Pagans are a-salt-ed | ||
A CATHOLIC group has been banned from mystical Glastonbury after hurling abuse and salt at pagans. Local priest Father Kevin Knox-Lecky invited national group Youth 2000 to the Somerset town for a religious festival. But one male youth was arrested and two women cautioned after locals had salt thrown at them to cleanse them of “evil” spirits. Pagan shop owner Maya Pinder, who was abused by Catholics, said: “It was as if we’d returned to the Dark Ages.” Father Knox-Lecky apologised to the pagan community and vowed not invite the group again. |
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· Police arrest youth on suspicion of harassment
· Priest distances church from intimidation
Guardian
In scenes reminiscent of medieval witchhunts, Catholic pilgrims in Glastonbury have attacked pagans and threatened to "cleanse" them from the town.Local pagans were pelted with salt and branded witches who "would burn in hell" during a procession organised by Youth 2000, a conservative Catholic lay group. The Magick Box, a pagan shop on the route of the march, was also singled out and attacked.
Maya Pinder, the owner of the shop, said: "We've had to hear comments such as 'burn the witches', we've had salt thrown in our faces and at our shop, people were openly saying they were 'cleansing Glastonbury of paganism'.
"It was as if we had returned to the dark ages. This is hugely damaging to Glastonbury ... it is hard enough to trade in Glastonbury as it is, if you were to take away the pagan element it would be a dead town." The Somerset town is known for having a large population of resident and visiting pagans.
The archdruid of Glastonbury, Dreow Bennett, said: "To call the behaviour of some of their members medieval would be an understatement. I personally witnessed the owner of of the Magick Box being confronted by one of their associates and being referred to as a bloody bitch and being told 'you will burn in hell'."
Father Kevin Knox-Lecky of St Mary's church said that after meeting representatives of the pagan community he had decided not to invite Youth 2000 to the town again.
He said: "A family appeared who we don't know, who were very destructive not only in the town and to the pagan community, but were also swearing at our parishioners as well."
He said the majority of Catholics taking part in the procession had been well-behaved and respectful of the pagans.
The retreat was organised last week to mark the 467th anniversary of the beheading of the last abbot of Glastonbury Abbey, Richard Whiting, and fellow martyrs.
Youth 2000 describes itself as "an independent, international initiative that helps young adults aged 16-35 plug back into God at the heart of the Roman Catholic Church".
It was set up 10 years ago by a disenchanted Catholic barrister who wanted a return to the traditional teachings of the church for young people.
Charlie Conner, the managing director of Youth 2000, said: "There were several incidents that happened that same weekend that were linked to people who had come to Glastonbury for the retreat. This was in direct contravention of the general spirit of Youth 2000 and its express instructions. The young man who was fined was not in fact registered on the retreat, although he did attempt to attend it.
"Youth 2000 does not condone or encourage this kind of behaviour from anyone. We fully agree that differences on matters of faith cannot and should not be resolved by any kind of harassment."
A spokesman for Avon and Somerset police confirmed a youth had been arrested at Magick Box on suspicion of causing harassment, alarm or distress.
Two women were also given cautions and warned about their future conduct.
Academics, chiefs condemn Mt Ayliff killing
Ignorance, misogyny blamed for ‘witch’ murders of women in their 40s and 50s
’I’ve done scientific research in the Mthatha area about issues related to witchcraft. What is clear is that the level of ignorance is very high in rural areas. Women between the ages of 40 to 50 years old regularly fall prey to witchcraft related allegations’
— Bhanwari Meel
By ZINE GEORGE and THANDUXOLO JIKA
TRADITIONAL leaders and academics yesterday condemned the horror mob slaying of a Mount Ayliff woman accused of witchcraft, saying it was a manifestation of social illness.
Nomanelwa Ngwane, 50, was battered and burnt by about 200 people after being found naked on the doorstep of a widower, Zakhele Jakuja, in the early hours of Monday morning.
She allegedly told him she had arrived with his dead wife to fetch him for a meeting.
On Friday this newspaper carried a photograph of the killing, in which people are seen laughing at the bloodied woman.
African Traditional Health Practitioners’ Eastern Cape chairperson, Solly Nduku yesterday described the attack “as an act of hooliganism ... a manifestation of social ills.
“People do sleepwalk, which might have been the case in this instance,” said Nduku.
Dr Mathole Motshekga of the Kara Heritage Institute, an African Renaissance body, also condemned the villagers’ actions.
“There is an African way to deal with witches. Our people used to report all cases relating to witchcraft to traditional leaders and they would be resolved.
“But it’s because of the influence of the west that our people are now killing each other about something no one can really explain,” said Motshekga.
He added: “No one can deny that there are good and evil forces in every society. But no one can claim to know how to identify a witch unless he is witch himself.”
Nokuzola Mndende, director of the Icamagu Institute – an organisation designed to preserve African culture – hit out at those who had murdered Ngwane and described the act as misogynistic.
“Why is it that only women are accused of witchcraft?” she asked.
“This is a psychological problem among some men who fear powerful women in leadership roles. If it was a man who had been found naked they wouldn’t have done that,” she said.
Walter Sisulu University head of Forensic Medicine, Professor Bhanwari Meel attributed the actions to ignorance, illiteracy and lack of education.
“I’ve done scientific research in the Mthatha area about issues related to witchcraft. What is clear is that the level of ignorance is very high in rural areas. Women between the ages of 40 to 50 years old regularly fall prey to witchcraft related allegations,” Meel said.
He said superstition was still deeply entrenched in the region. For example, some people still simply did not want to accept that HIV/Aids existed.
“When a relative is infected with the disease some rural people go to sangomas to find out who had bewitched their relative,” he said.
In 2004 four elderly women were butchered in Centane after they were accused of being involved in witchcraft.
“It’s a complex issue informed by many social challenges. A lot still needs to be done to educate people about all these things,” said Meel.
Rhodes University anthropology lecturer Penny Bernard said the Mount Ayliff incident was bizarre.
It could have been caused by the woman being found partially naked in the early hours of the morning. But Bernard said killing someone was no solution. “I have done studies on sangomas and witchcraft mostly in KwaZulu-Natal, and people only use magic to retaliate, not to physically kill someone,” said Bernard.
Priest paves a pagan path
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So he started his own church. "Now my goal," he said this week, "is for people to see it as just another church." That's probably easier said than done. He's the high priest of the American Pagan Church, founded two years ago in East Hampton, L.I., with a handful of believers who currently meet in his home. "We still live in the dark ages - many of our members are discriminated against," said MacKae, a paralegal by profession who was ordained eight years ago after completing a course taught by pagan priests. "One lost her job when she said she was a pagan." Nevertheless, there are dozens of pagan and witchcraft groups in and around New York, and this was a big week for them. While everybody else celebrated Halloween, they observed Samhein, the new year for most pagans (and witches), and one of the eight most important holidays on the metaphysical calendar. For privacy reasons, and because it is hard to keep track of all the various groups or define their membership, nobody knows the number of New Yorkers who are pagans, witches or followers of other old religions based on goddess worship, the sacredness of nature and rituals rooted in ancient Celtic, Nordic and other religions. "There are more than people think," said MacKae, who is called "pastor" by church outsiders and "high priest" on formal occasions but prefers just plain "Ross" at church. "Every year, we lead the opening ceremonies at the Pagan Pride Day celebrations (in Battery Park, on the southernmost tip of Manhattan) and last year, after 10,000 people, we stopped counting." That's a pretty impressive number, even if many participants were at the park out of curiosity. There also is an annual Pagan Spirituality Expo, held in Greenwich Village, sponsored by various metaphysical groups and businesses that sell herbs, oils, candles, books, wands, astrological charts and other paraphernalia to witches and wizards. And this is not counting people like Deborah Roth, an interfaith minister who was ordained eight years ago by the Reunification Church in the Order of Malchizedek, an organization that renounces paganism and is named for an Old Testament priest. Roth leads groups - circles, she calls them - devoted to women's spirituality at among other places the Fourth Universalist Society, a Unitarian church on the upper West Side. "There are some elements of wicca in what I do," she said, "but I don't call myself a wiccan." In fact, Roth typifies the risks of overly simple labels - she has a master's degree in psychology and is a member of the advisory board of Modern Bride magazine, two facts not necessarily associated with witches. There is no such confusion in MacKae's case. He founded his church, he said, on the principles of witchcraft, Native American spirituality and asatru (old Norse and German paganism). But members are not limited to those basics. "All knowledge is our liturgy," he said, "and spiritual search is our dogma." Services are held on the last Thursday of each month, featuring songs, dances and readings. There is a sermon of sorts - "I ask questions in the kitchen while everyone prepares our shared meal, and then I do a little commentary based on their answers." Despite its name, MacKae describes the American Pagan Church as an interfaith ministry. "All paths are divine," he said, "and every person has an individual path to follow, but we all travel it together." The attendance ranges from a half dozen to 20 or so, he said, and some members attend only one or two services a year. "There is no mandatory anything," he said, "and we do not keep an official membership roll." Networking is important. One popular gathering spot is the Whoville Bar and Grill in Bethpage, L.I., which for years has sponsored a monthly "Pagans in the Park" open house. "That's where a lot of us meet up," MacKae said. Generally speaking, he said, witches and pagans are not missionaries aggressively seeking converts. But MacKae has a different philosophy. "We proselytize, every chance we get," he said. "It's not to say, 'You're wrong,' but to say, 'You're right, let us show you how.'" |
The suburbs of Atlanta are at the center of a witch hunt. Literally.
Laura Mallory, a former evangelical Christian missionary and mother of four, has been trying since September 2005 to have the Harry Potter books by author J.K. Rowling removed from all of the Gwinnett County public school libraries. Initially she argued that the books were inappropriate because of "evil themes, witchcraft, demonic activity, murder, evil blood sacrifice, spells, and teaching children all of this," but she later added that they promote witchcraft, Wicca, and the occult.
Mallory's challenge was addressed by the media review committee at J.C. Magill Elementary, where three of Mallory's children are enrolled. The committee recommended that the books remain in the libraries, and the district administration concurred.
In April Mallory appealed to the district school board, which held a public hearing in May. The school board sided with the school media review committee and voted unanimously in favor of keeping the books.
Now Mallory has taken her challenge to the state Board of Education. They met in October and will issue a judgment in December.
In some ways this is a rather predictable book challenge.
Like many book complainants, Mallory objects that the contents of the books are offensive to her religious beliefs. She claims the books have an anti-Christian bias.
Also like many complainants, she admits she hasn't read the books.
"They're really very long and I have four kids," Mallory told the Gwinnett Daily Post. "I think it would be hypocritical of me to read all of the books, honestly. I don't agree with what's in them."
And also like many of the people who challenge books, Mallory ignores the role of parents in guiding their children's choices -- unless, of course, she is the parent making those choices for everyone's children.
The outcry against Mallory's challenge has been predictable as well. Supporters of the Harry Potter series have countered that the books do not promote witchcraft but are fantasy stories about gifted children who discover their own remarkable abilities and go to a special school in order to learn to use them. The books are intense morality tales where good triumphs over evil, where friendship and loyalty are celebrated, where Harry learns from his missteps.
Potter fans also point out that although Mallory charges that the books try to indoctrinate children into the religion of Wicca, the only religious reference is to Christianity, when Hogwarts adjourns each December for the Christmas holidays. Nor do the books teach occult practices, as Mallory claims. The magic taught at Hogwarts is a clever counterpart to real life activities -- learning to make the tip of a wand light up to use as a flashlight, for example, or learning the proper way to fly a broom. The only teacher who presumes to teach what might be called occult practices is Sybill Trelawney, the incompetent fortune teller who is roundly mocked by both her students and her colleagues.
As predictable as the challenge has been, it has also been surprising to me. Why are books this universally read and loved also so widely feared and reviled? Despite their lack of sexual content or offensive language -- two of the most common reasons for book challenges -- the Harry Potter books are listed as the American Library Association's most-challenged books of the 21st century. What's going on?
Laura Mallory told one interviewer that "the books expose and introduce occult practices to young readers, opening a door to their minds and hearts to this kind of stuff, the casting of spells. The occult is dangerous to our children, and we need to get it out of our schools in all its forms."
For Mallory and other people like her who have a pre-Enlightenment view of the world as a place where magic is real and supernatural powers can be accessed through spells, the books might seem frightening. These are the same people who send chain letters and e-mails which promise great rewards to those who say a prayer and forward the mail to others -- and which sometimes threaten harm if the chain is broken.
They are the people who read cosmic significance into coincidence, who believe without question the cautionary tales they hear, who reject reason and science as ungodly and substitute religion with superstition.
Ironically, they say that they worry that children cannot tell the difference between fact and fiction, but their own anxiety about the books suggests that they are the ones who are having difficulty. It's too bad that their confusion means the rest of us have to endure yet another senseless witch hunt.
Kay
McSpadden
TALLAHASSEE, FL, November 3, 2006 (LifeSiteNews.com) - Last week, the Florida Supreme Court declined to consider a Wiccan group's challenge to a state sales tax exemption. Earlier this year, the high court agreed to take the case and heard oral arguments from both sides regarding the Wiccan's objection to a sales tax exemption for Bibles and other religious items.
Liberty Counsel, a law firm which works for religious liberty, filed a brief with the Florida Supreme Court defending a state law that exempts Bibles, religious publications and ceremonial items from sales tax. In a 6-1 decision, the Court found no conflict in appellate court rulings on the underlying issue of whether the Wiccans have the right, or "standing," to challenge the law.
The Wiccan Religious Cooperative of Florida (Wiccans) follow an earth-based belief religion and at one time qualified for the tax exemption on certain items sold by the Cooperative. They lost their exemption in 2000 because they did not own a place of worship as required by state regulations. They filed suit on Halloween in 2000, saying they paid sales tax on the purchase of the Satanic Bible and the Witch's Bible Compleat and claiming Florida Statute 212.06(9) violated the Establishment Clause.
A trial judge ruled the Wiccans had standing to sue. A Florida appeals court reversed that decision. The Wiccans appealed. The Florida Supreme Court agreed to take the case based on appellate rulings which, at first, appeared to be in conflict with that issue, when, in fact, it dealt with the narrower issue of "taxpayer standing." The Court opined the Wiccans lack standing to challenge the law because they are not harmed by it. This is not the same as taxpayer standing.
Erik Stanley, Chief Counsel of Liberty Counsel, stated, "The Florida Supreme Court did the right thing in dismissing this case. The Wiccans' challenge was nothing more than a vindictive lawsuit. The Wiccans would not have benefited at all if they won because they were seeking to have all religious publications taxed, including their own. Florida's sales tax exemption statute is constitutional and we are pleased that this vindictive challenge to the statute has been dismissed."
KINSHASA, Congo - When Mando Mengi was 5, his mother died and his father remarried. His stepmother, a tall, mercurial woman with two children of her own, saw Mando as a burden and gave him endless chores while the other kids did nothing.
One day, Mando refused to sweep the dirt floor of their home. His stepmother found a sinister explanation for his stubbornness: He was practicing witchcraft.
She began to withhold food and sometimes beat him, saying it would purge the evil spirits. Finally, she gave his father an ultimatum: "You've brought a sorcerer into this house," Mando recalled her saying. "Either he leaves or I do."
Mando didn't wait for him to decide. He ran away, joining tens of thousands of children who live on the streets of this broken-down African capital - most of them, aid agencies say, rejected by families who accuse them of witchcraft.
In Congo, where belief in the power of spirits and black magic goes back centuries, boys and girls as young as 5 are bearing the brunt of witchcraft allegations that once were reserved for rural women and widows. Aid workers blame the social toll of decades of economic depression, disease and conflict, which have torn apart countless families and made daily life desperate for most of the country's 60 million people.
With 4 million Congolese thought to have perished mostly from illnesses and hunger since a civil war began in 1998, and with eight in 10 surviving on less than a dollar per day, children are sometimes seen as encumbrances, just more mouths to feed. For some parents and guardians, calling a child a sorcerer offers an easy explanation for their troubles and a chance to rid themselves of a dependent.
Feeding these beliefs are mushrooming revivalist churches throughout the country, where spurious pastors offer to exorcise spirits - sometimes charging fees, sometimes subjecting children to physical or psychological abuse. There are thought to be more than 2,000 such churches in Kinshasa, a city of perhaps 9 million people.
Aid workers estimate that there are 25,000 to 50,000 children living on the streets here, and their numbers are growing. As many as 70 percent have been abandoned for allegedly practicing sorcery, according to a report this year by New York-based Human Rights Watch.
In most cases, the group said, victims of witchcraft allegations had lost one or both parents. Their accusers are usually stepparents or guardians, and the children most often targeted are those with seemingly strange behaviors, such as bed-wetting, sleepwalking or aggression.
"Poverty and desperation are the basic causes," said Mike Mwamba, the director of a center for abandoned children in Gombe, a busy commercial section of Kinshasa where hundreds of street kids prowl about the main marketplace.
"It's a typical case: You see someone losing their job, and they look at home for an explanation. Where is this bad luck coming from? They see the child, who has certain negative characteristics: Maybe he is difficult, maybe he wets his bed.
"That becomes enough to accuse them of sorcery."
One of the children living at the center is Kipasi Kama, a 15-year-old who's small for his age and bites his nails incessantly. He was living with his father and stepmother when a neighbor said she'd dreamed that Kipasi came to strangle her in her sleep.
Immediately, Kipasi said, his father ordered him out of the house.
"If I am a sorcerer, I don't know it," Kipasi said. "They never gave me a chance to prove that I wasn't."
Others, such as Mando, who's now 15, are deprived of food at home and sent to churches that perform "deliverance" ceremonies. Mando was sent to so many that he remembers them now only by the methods they used: the one where the pastor made him eat pigeon meat, for example, or the one where a group of boys pummeled him with their fists.
It was during that episode that Mando, a lanky boy with sunken cheeks, admitted to practicing witchcraft. It was the only way the beating would stop, he thought.
Jean-Marie Kalonji, a pastor who runs the Fountain of Adoration of God Evangelical Center and advertises his deliverance services on Christian radio, claims to be Kinshasa's expert on the subject. On a recent afternoon, a dozen people waited in the dirt courtyard of his one-room church for consultations.
"Witchcraft is a bigger problem in Congo than AIDS," said Kalonji, a young, professorial man with eyeglasses perched on the end of his nose. He displayed a 2-inch binder crammed with loose-leaf sheets, each of them a witchcraft case, he said.
Kalonji, who claims to have performed hundreds of exorcisms, renounces the "false methods" of other pastors, which he said don't work. He listed some of these methods in a slim paperback volume he authored three years ago titled "African Sorcery: Strategies of Deliverance," which he sells for about $7.
Among them are burning the sorcerer, extracting flesh from his mouth, beating him with an iron rod, trampling him, making him drink a bottle of palm oil daily for a week and forcing him to stare at the sun.
Kalonji was cagey about his own technique, which he said involved a lot of prayer but no physical abuse. As for payment, he said, "If a grateful parent offers me money, I don't refuse."
Aid workers say Congolese authorities have begun looking into cases of abuse by these pastors. But investigators are overwhelmed and most churches just take their services underground.
Less can be done about the abuse that street children must endure at the hands of older, bigger peers. Kipasi said he was tormented because of his size, made to wash other kids' clothes and subjected to a hazing ritual in which scalding liquid is poured on a child as he sleeps.
In its report, Human Rights Watch said older children often sexually abuse younger ones.
Social workers who know Mando's case have tried to persuade his father to take him back. Over the past several months, they said, the man visited the center a handful of times and re-established contact with his son. The last time, he promised to take the boy home at the end of October.
But it's now November and Mando is still sleeping in a steamy, crowded dorm room at the center. Social workers haven't told him about his father's promise, afraid of raising his hopes.
"I just want to go back to my family and live in peace," Mando said. "I regret that they've made me think about this so much. I never thought I was a witch. I thought the whole thing was a little weird."
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The state's top Catholic leaders have taken a rare step in collectively calling on University of Minnesota President Robert Bruininks to reconsider the U's plan to stage a controversial play they view as anti-Catholic.
"The Pope and the Witch," a satire depicting the pope as a paranoid, drug-addled idiot and the Vatican as corrupt, drew the ire this fall of a national Catholic group and some local bloggers.
Last week, Archbishop Harry Flynn of the Archdiocese of St. Paul and Minneapolis, along with bishops from Crookston to Winona, wrote to Bruininks calling the play offensive to the state's 1.6 million Catholics. They urged Bruininks to rethink its staging this March on the campus of the state's flagship public university.
Dennis McGrath, spokesman for the Archdiocese of St. Paul and Minneapolis, said Thursday that he couldn't recall a time when the state's bishops had made such a combined request.
The bishops "have to stand up for the faith," McGrath said. "They can't be silent in a case like this and won't be."
The U reiterated Thursday there are no plans to stop the play.
Flynn and Bruininks met Wednesday to discuss the play and other issues, said U spokesman Dan Wolter. Bruininks "explained that the university will not reconsider the staging of the play, but underscored that our commitment to academic freedom also includes listening and giving a forum to the views of those who have concern with the play's content," Wolter said. The U, Wolter added, is planning a forum in conjunction with the play.
No one at the university could recall a similar instance where religious leaders have encouraged an event to be canceled, he said.
The bishops' call comes at a time of heightened tension in the Twin Cities and across the world on issues of religion and secular life.
Metro Transit officials recently agreed to let a bus driver avoid driving buses with gay-themed ads to accommodate her religious objections. Transit officials later stepped back from that decision, saying it sent the wrong message about tolerance.
Muslim cabdrivers at Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport are refusing for religious reasons to take passengers carrying alcohol. Last winter, Century College in White Bear Lake was caught in controversy after an instructor posted copies of the Danish newspaper cartoons of Mohammed that triggered riots around the world.
"The Pope and the Witch" has been a target for years of the New York-based Catholic League for Religious and Civil Rights. Scenes include a paranoid pope convinced that thousands of orphans appearing in St. Peter's Square are part of a plot by condom makers to embarrass the church, a witch who favors abortion and drug legalization, and revelations of evil in the church hierarchy, according to a 2000 New York Times review.
Robert Rosen, who'll direct the play at the U, writes on the theater department Web site that, "I chose this play because it is political. It takes a stand on issues in the forefront of our daily lives. It is funny, irreverent and to the point."
The key question: Is it satire or sacrilege?
The U in September said campus must be a place for even very unpopular views. That drew a rebuke from Flynn. "One wonders how 'The Pope and the Witch' could possibly enhance intellectual life when that kind of hatred and prejudice is tolerated by the University of Minnesota," he wrote in a column for the Catholic Spirit newspaper. "It is even funded by the University of Minnesota. And, who is paying for this? You and I — the Catholics in Minnesota, among others, through our taxes."
McGrath on Thursday called "The Pope and the Witch" a "direct mockery of the holy father" and completely different from plays like "Nunsense" that poke fun at Catholic traditions in a light-hearted way.
At this point, the U has received a few hundred e-mails and letters on the issue, with a substantial number coming from outside Minnesota, a typical volume for organized e-mail campaigns, Wolter said. The play, he added, has been staged at Yale University, University of New Mexico and the University of Denver and is planned for Tulane University next year.
However it turns out, McGrath said the archdiocese has no plans to organize protests or call Catholics to action against the U. "We have a great deal of admiration for the university, its arts and activities," he said. "There's not going to be any continued rancor that grows out of this."
Paul Tosto covers higher education and can be reached at ptosto@pioneerpress.com or 651-228-2119A German woman, who took a witch to court for failing to make her ex-partner fall in love with her again, has won her case.
The spurned woman paid the self-proclaimed sorcerer a large sum of money to help her get her female lover back, but said the spell didn't work.
The Munich administrative court was told: "The defendant carried out the corresponding ritual over several months, each time under a full moon, but without success." After hearing both cases the court ruled that the witch's services were "objectively completely impossible", because "a love ritual is not suited to influencing a person from a distance".
The witch was ordered to pay her disgruntled client $1,275.
Ghosts, ghouls and witches gathered to celebrate Halloween in spooky style at Sutton Ecology Centre at the weekend.
The centre in Festival Walk, in Carshalton, turned into a nook of eerie activity to celebrate All Hallows' Eve on Sunday.
Children from all over the borough listened to scary stories, played spooky bingo and made flying bats.
They learned about the animals who are traditionally pets of witches and warlocks and there was even time for a disco at the end of the day.
Manager of the centre Sharon Clouston said: "All of the children dressed up and we had witches, bats and even a couple of Draculas. It was a great day.
"We looked at the animals associated with Halloween and made bats of our own.
"All of the children had a really nice time."
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Ruth Sanders performs a Halloween ritual. |