A question quietly arises during moments of stagnation. It usually doesn’t make itself known loudly. It sneaks in when effort stops yielding results, when relationships feel burdensome. When health, money, or direction seem to slip away, no matter how hard you try.
The question is simple, but loaded: Can someone curse
your life?
In many African contexts, the question is posed differently.
Someone might say, almost in a whisper, “Your star has been taken.” And
as soon as those words are spoken, something shifts. Fear finds words.
Confusion becomes a story. Pain receives an explanation.
I’ve spent years sitting with people who believe
this—intelligent people, thoughtful people, those who have worked hard and
still feel stuck. I don’t dismiss the question lightly. I believe words are
powerful. I believe in a spiritual realm. I also believe that outcomes follow
patterns. And over time, one thing has become very clear to me: when awareness
is low, influence seems like destiny.
Let me tell you two stories.
Jane grew up in a family that appeared successful from the
outside. Her parents operated a thriving hardware business. There was money,
structure, and achievement. What was missing, however, was presence. Her
parents were busy building, expanding, and running their business. Jane and her
siblings were provided for, but rarely attended to emotionally.
Everything changed when Jane’s older brother died in a car
accident shortly after turning eighteen. At the funeral, something strange
happened. A woman Jane had never seen before appeared briefly and then
disappeared. Around the same time, her parents vanished for a week. When they
came back, Jane couldn’t explain it, but something about them felt different, heavier,
more distant.
Over the years, Jane discovered she craved attention she had
never experienced before. She fell deeply in love with an older man. Around the
same time, her body started to betray her. Unusual illnesses appeared. She
began losing weight. Her skin broke out in ways that didn’t respond to
treatment. Medical tests showed nothing was wrong. Yet, she felt herself
fading.
Then one afternoon, a stranger stopped her on the street and
said, “Someone is manipulating your destiny. They have taken your star.”
That sentence lodged itself deep inside her.
Jane tried to leave the relationship, but she couldn’t. Her
health continued to worsen. Eventually, her mother came to see her and was
alarmed at how thin and ghostlike she looked. She took Jane, not to a hospital,
but on a long drive to a remote place—no houses, no trees—just one man’s home.
It was only when she walked inside that Jane realized they were visiting a
witch doctor.
Later, Jane found hidden items in her boyfriend’s
belongings: powders, bones, personal effects, and photographs. She discovered
messages between him and her father discussing plans that chilled her. When she
confronted her mother, her response was devastating. Her mother told her,
calmly, that she was following her brother—that she was meant to be a sacrifice
to ensure the family’s success.
When I saw Jane years later, she was in her thirties. She
had never kept a job for longer than a year. She trusted no one and believed
everyone was part of a conspiracy, including me. Her conviction that she was
cursed had become the guiding principle of her life. It explained everything,
but because it explained everything, it also trapped her.
The second story is quieter, but just as telling.
Toby grew up in a middle-class family. He tried business
after business. None of them worked. Over time, he began drinking—not socially,
but functionally. Drinking to numb the humiliation of failure. Eventually, he
began saying it out loud: “Someone cursed me.”
He went to a ‘Mchawi’. (Swahili for witch)
The conversation followed a familiar rhythm.
“Are your parents alive?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have a good relationship with them?”
“No.”
“I see darkness in your father’s hands.”
That was enough.
What followed wasn’t a revelation; it was a suggestion.
Information was collected and reshaped into a story that Toby could live in.
Years later, I met Toby again, and he was begging on the street, still
convinced his life had been stolen.
Here is the uncomfortable truth I’ve come to accept: destiny
cannot be stolen. But direction can be manipulated.
Destiny is determined by capacity, character, and
calling—the long journey of who you can become. Direction, however, is shaped
by choices, environments, relationships, and habits. People cannot own your
destiny, but they can significantly influence your direction, especially when
awareness is limited.
How does that influence happen? Quietly, through fear,
guilt, approval-seeking, and repeated definitions of who you are and what
you’re capable of. It arises from controlling environments and the exploitation
of unresolved wounds—such as shame, abandonment, and scarcity. It also involves
rewarding compliance and punishing authenticity.
When these forces go unchecked, they appear supernatural.
They seem like fate. They seem like curses. But they are not destiny. They are
patterns.
This is why the phrase “taken stars” persists. When people
say their star has been taken, they often refer to a loss of control. Life
feels blocked. Progress seems unusually difficult. Others seem to move forward
effortlessly while you stay stuck. It feels personal. It feels targeted.
Psychologically, this usually signals diminished confidence
and a delegation of authority. Relationally, it often reflects living in
someone else’s shadow. Spiritually—even in traditional belief systems—there is
a common understanding: a curse only has power when awareness is lacking.
Awareness is the real leverage point.
The moment you start noticing why you react the way you do,
what emotions influence your choices, which relationships distort your sense of
self, and where you’ve relinquished control over your life, manipulation begins
to weaken. This is why awareness is disruptive. It doesn’t exaggerate. It
clarifies. And clarity restores agency.
People don’t control your destiny without your
participation. That participation may be unconscious. It may be inherited. It
may have been learned in childhood. But once you recognize it, it can be
changed.
Yes, people can delay you. They can distract you. They can
wound you. But they cannot become you.
Destiny manifests when awareness replaces reaction, when
responsibility replaces blame, and when alignment replaces force. Force is how
we navigate life when driven by shame, envy, anger, pride, grief, and fear.
Force drains energy. Awareness provides stability.
So when someone tells you your star has been taken, pause.
Before fear becomes belief, ask yourself a quieter question: Where did I
start living smaller than what I knew to be true?
That is usually where the light dimmed—not where it was
stolen.
No one can take away your star. You stop shining when you
forget who you are. And when awareness comes back, choices shift, boundaries
solidify, energy gathers, and momentum begins again.
The invitation isn't to find protection. It's to find
clarity. Awareness doesn't guarantee an easy life. It promises an honest one.
And truth, quietly and steadily, reclaims power.
If this message
stirred something in you, don’t let it fade.
1. Join
my LinkedIn Habit Coaching Newsletter: https://www.linkedin.com/newsletters/habits-with-coach-edwin-7399067976420966400/
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