Tracking down individuals who murder others to trade their body parts for ‘enchanted talismans’

Following the trauma faced by numerous families due to slayings seemingly connected to alleged magical rites in Sierra Leone, BBC Africa Eye investigates those involved in the human body parts trade.

Caution: This article encompasses details that some readers may find unsettling.

The mother of an 11-year-old boy who was killed as part of a suspected black magic ritual four years ago is devastated that no justice has been served for his murder.

“Today I’m suffering. They took my child away, and now I hear nothing,” Sallay Kalokoh shared with BBC Africa Eye, recounting how her son Papayo was discovered with parts of his body missing, including vital organs, eyes, and one arm.

He had left home to sell fish at the market but never returned.

His family searched for two weeks before eventually discovering his dismembered body at the bottom of a well.

“We always advise our children to be cautious. If you’re selling, stay away from corners and don’t accept gifts from strangers. Such incidents are common in this country,” Ms Kalokoh remarked.

This tragedy in my hometown of Makeni, situated in central Sierra Leone, has plagued my mind as we often hear about killings associated with black magic, also termed juju, that are rarely investigated or acted upon by officials.

In Papayo’s instance, law enforcement did not even acknowledge it was a “ritual killing” – an act of murder intended for the utilization of body parts in so-called magical rites by unlawful juju practitioners.

They make promises of prosperity and power to those who pay hefty fees, under the delusion that human body parts can enhance the potency of charms.

However, due to severe resource limitations within the authorities – with only one pathologist for a population of 8.9 million – gathering the evidence necessary to apprehend the offenders is frequently unattainable.

Moreover, belief in witchcraft is deeply rooted in Sierra Leone, even among many in law enforcement, leading to a reluctance to pursue cases further – causing most to remain unsolved.

Nevertheless, I aimed to uncover more regarding this clandestine trade in human body parts, which results in immense suffering.

Our BBC Africa Eye team managed to identify two individuals who claimed to be juju practitioners willing to supply body parts for ritualistic use.

Both indicated they were part of larger networks – and one even bragged about having influential clients throughout West Africa. The BBC could not verify these assertions.

One member of our team went undercover, adopting the name Osman, to masquerade as a politician seeking power through human sacrifice.

Initially, we traveled to a remote section of Kambia district, located in the northern part of the country near the Guinean border, to meet the juju man at his hidden shrine – an area within thick foliage where he consulted his clients.

Identifying himself as Kanu, he donned a ceremonial red mask that concealed his entire face to hide his identity and bragged about his political connections.

“I collaborated with prominent politicians in Guinea, Senegal, and Nigeria. We operate as a team. During election periods, this place is brimming with people at night,” he claimed.

Election time is viewed by some as particularly perilous when parents have been cautioned to be especially protective of their children due to the increased risk of abductions.

Upon a subsequent visit, Kanu appeared more assured and presented Osman with what he claimed was proof of his business – a human skull.

“Do you see this? This belongs to someone. I prepared it for them. It is a woman’s skull. I am anticipating the person to collect it today or tomorrow.”

He also indicated a pit behind his shrine: “This is where we hang human parts. We carry out the slaughter here, and the blood drains down there… Even high-ranking chiefs, when they seek power, come here. I provide them with what they desire.”

When Osman specified that he wanted limbs from a woman for a ritual, Kanu responded: “The cost for a woman is 70m leones [£2,500; $3,000].”

Desiring to avoid endangering anyone, we chose not to meet Kanu again. He might have been deceiving us, yet we submitted our findings to the local authorities for further examination.

These juju men occasionally designate themselves as herbalists, a term adopted for healers utilizing traditional medicine often derived from local plants to remedy common ailments.

World Health Organization statistics indicate that Sierra Leone – which endured a brutal civil war in the 1990s and was central to the Ebola outbreak a decade ago – had around 1,000 licensed doctors in 2022, in contrast to estimated reports of 45,000 traditional healers.

Most individuals in this West African nation depend on these healers, who also address mental health issues and care for patients in sacred spaces infused with cultural mysticism and spiritualism linked to their practices and the remedies they provide.

Sheku Tarawallie, head of Sierra Leone’s Council of Traditional Healers, firmly believes that “diabolic” juju men like Kanu tarnish the reputation of genuine healers.

“We’re making great efforts to improve our image. The average person fails to understand, leading them to lump us all together as harmful herbalists. One spoiled fish can ruin a whole batch… We are healers, not murderers,” he told BBC Africa Eye.

Mr Tarawallie is indeed seeking to collaborate with the government and another NGO to establish a traditional medicine clinic for patient care.

He contends that those driven by greed for power and wealth often perpetrate these ritualistic killings.

“When someone wishes to ascend to leadership… they extract body parts from people. They sacrifice them. Incense individuals, use their ashes for power. Employ their oil for power.”

The prevalence of ritual murders in Sierra Leone, where the majority of residents identify as either Muslim or Christian, remains unclear.

“In most African nations, ritual killings are not officially documented as a distinct or sub-category of homicide,” Emmanuel Sarpong Owusu, a researcher at Aberystwyth University in the UK, stated to the BBC.

“Many are misclassified or inaccurately reported as accidents, wildlife attack deaths, suicides, or natural causes… Most criminals – perhaps 90% – evade capture.”

When we discovered another alleged supplier of body parts, he was situated in the Waterloo suburb of the capital, Freetown, an area infamous for drug addiction and various crimes.

“I’m not working alone; up to 250 herbalists are under my guidance,” the individual who identified himself as Idara revealed to Osman, who was undercover with a hidden camera.

“There are no body parts we shy away from. Whenever we require a specific part, it is brought to us. We share the tasks,” Idara explained.

He went further to discuss how some of his associates excel in capturing individuals – and during Osman’s second meeting, he played a voice message from one who expressed readiness to start going out nightly to hunt for victims.

Osman urged him to hold off on any actions, but after receiving a call from Idara claiming a victim had been identified, we alerted Police Commissioner Ibrahim Sama.

He opted to set up a raid but stated his officers would not proceed without involving Mr Tarawallie, who often supports police during such operations.

“When we gather intelligence regarding a particularly dangerous witchdoctor operating a shrine, we collaborate with traditional healers,” noted an officer on the raid, Assistant Superintendent Aliu Jallo.

He went on to articulate the superstitions some officers hold about confronting rogue herbalists: “I won’t provoke such situations. I’m aware they possess powers beyond my understanding.”

Following Idara’s apprehension – found hiding in the roof while clutching a knife – Mr Tarawallie began his search for evidence within the premises, stating that human bones, strands of hair, and heaps resembling soil from graveyards were present.

This sufficed for the police to detain Idara and two additional individuals, who were charged in June with practicing sorcery as well as possessing traditional weapons used in ritual killings. They entered not guilty pleas and have since been granted bail while further investigations are conducted.

As we did not receive any updates from the police in Kambia regarding Kanu, I attempted to reach him personally to confront him about the accusations, but he was unavailable.

There are instances where even high-profile cases appear to stagnate. Two years prior, a university professor vanished in Freetown, and his remains were subsequently discovered interred in what police claim was a herbalist’s shrine in Waterloo.

In August 2023, the case was referred to the High Court for trial by a magistrate, yet two sources informed the BBC that it has not advanced thus far, and those detained by law enforcement have been released on bail.

My family is encountering similar obstacles in their pursuit of justice. In May, during our BBC investigation, my 28-year-old cousin Fatmata Conteh was killed in Makeni.

A hairdresser and mother of two, her body was discovered the day after her birthday discarded by the roadside where a local claimed two other bodies had been found recently.

Several of her front teeth were missing, leading the community to suspect it was a ritual killing.

“She was a woman of peace, never harmful. She worked hard,” remarked one mourner as family, friends, and colleagues gathered for a significant funeral at her local mosque.

We might never unearth the true reason behind Fatmata’s death. The family financed her body’s transportation to Freetown for an autopsy – something the authorities could not afford – but the post-mortem yielded inconclusive results, and no arrests have been made.

Similar to Papayo’s mother, the absence of closure and the sense of neglect from the police amplify fear and dread within vulnerable communities like Makeni.

Additional reporting by Chris Alcock and Luis Barrucho