Colombian witchcraft is a fascinating aspect of the country's culture and history. Rooted in ancient indigenous beliefs and practices, Colombian witchcraft has evolved and adapted over the centuries, blending with Catholicism and African traditions brought by slaves. Witchcraft in Colombia is often understood as a system of beliefs and practices that involve the manipulation of supernatural forces to influence events and bring about desired outcomes. Traditional healers, known as curanderos or shamans, play a central role in Colombian witchcraft. These individuals possess knowledge of plants, rituals, and prayers that can be used to heal ailments, protect against evil spirits, and provide guidance. Colombian witchcraft is deeply connected to nature, as various plants and animals are believed to possess spiritual powers.

Narcos and necromancy: Turf wars and black magic in Colombia

L ast August, Jeferson Angulo Orozco set out to go fishing with his two friends. This was their routine, a weekly trip in search of food for their families.

Fishing is not a business or a hobby on the Naya river in the rural suburbs of Buenaventura, it’s just the easiest way to survive. But Mr Angulo and his friends never returned from their trip and locals fear the worst.

The vast waterways of the Naya Delta in southwestern Colombia provide the perfect cover for drug traffickers. This is a place, where seeing and knowing can carry a death sentence.

“We’ve all learned to turn a blind eye,” says one community leader, who asked not to be named. “But who knows what these three might have come across on their fishing trip.”

Recent months have seen an uptick in violence across Colombia as the United Nations warns that armed groups are seeking to take advantage of the Coronavirus pandemic to expand their territorial control in the country.

With its mangrove-covered maze of coastline, Buenaventura and its estuary have become the jewel in Colombia’s criminal crown.

So-called narco saints have become the informal patrons of the drugs trade. For gangsters, paying homage to these figures offers both protection and redemption

Rival drug trafficking groups compete for easy and lucrative access to the Pacific Ocean and homicide levels here have been climbing.

The murder rate has risen from 14.7 per 100,000 people in 2016 to 31.2 in 2020, and with more than 20 murders in the first two months of this year, the number of homicides is already three times what it was for the same period twelve months ago.

Forced disappearances have also increased steadily. Police figures show the number of cases rose from 45 in 2017 to 72 in 2019, but these numbers tell only half the story.

Authorities say the overwhelming number of disappearances go unreported because people are simply too scared.

Along the river Naya, residents fear torture. Murder here has a touch of the macabre.

“They don’t just kill, they chop, they decapitate,” says the community leader. “It’s horrible to have this image in your head. But it’s what they do. It’s part of their religion.”

Forensic scientists confirmed that bodies in the region are often found dismembered. Authorities believe the gruesome violence is fuelled by a disturbing belief in black magic among the city’s drugs gangs.

“Witchcraft is as popular with the narcos as Catholicism in the Vatican,” said Omar Bonilla, a police commander in the city. “It creates beliefs and superstitions, which underpin some of the brutality we witness here.”

In a destitute slum not far from the centre of the city, a gaunt figure sits in the open, but cramped crawl space of a small brick house. The air is filled with cigar smoke, but it does little to eliminate the stink of sewage emanating from a nearby stream. The silence is broken only by the croak of toads.

Julio is a 33-year-old narco commander, whose name has been changed to protect his real identity. He is unusually thin, but his scrawniness should not be mistaken for weakness. Known and feared by the locals, he says he has evaded identification by the security forces for years.

Julio runs a local cell of the Empresa, an organised criminal structure, which has terrorised this city. He is waiting for a witch to bless his rosary. “I’ve been coming here for five years,” he says. “It keeps me safe.”

The witch, dressed in shorts and a t-shirt, eventually joins him under the foundations of her house. It’s not a remarkable nor mysterious entrance. She curses as she crouches beside him and trips over her flip flops.

Known as Sandra, the witch takes the rosary and puffs on three large, freshly lit cigars. Through a thick haze, she begins to privately interpret the ashes while chanting a prayer to Saint Michael.

“St Michael protects you from your enemies,” she says in a husky voice, never making eye contact. “He helps repel evil.”

She reads from her book of incantations. “Block their eyes so they don’t see me. Tie their hands so they can’t catch me,” she chants.

Julio closes his eyes and mumbles under his breath.

“The ashes show names, faces and objects. They create a story that shows me the danger,” says Sandra. “I then conjure it away.”

The ritual is intended to keep Julio from death and capture. Lucky charms are an important weapon in the narco’s arsenal.

“Just like this one,” says Julio, as he lifts his shirt. He has a shoelace tied around his torso. It rests on his bony hips. If there’s a threat nearby, the rosary and the shoelace will tighten to warn him, Sandra explains.

Julio, who started his criminal career at the age of 15 began as a hitman.

“It gave me power, I felt like the king of the world,” he says. “I enjoyed it.”

He quickly climbed the criminal ladder and is now an integral part of the local criminal network.

“The more charms you have, the safer you’ll be,” he says decisively. “It’s what’s kept me alive.”

Julio has survived several attempts on his life. In a war that is all about turf, gang rivals regularly try their luck at taking him out. Killing Julio would leave his profitable patch up for grabs.

“Once they fired at me 12 times,” he says. “But only one bullet hit me, and even then it was just a graze. It’s because of the shoelace.”

African traditions and customs define life in this bustling port. Most of those who live here are descended from slaves brought in by the Spanish to work in gold mines.

The homeopathic healing practices of ancestral witchcraft are extremely popular, and in a city with inadequate healthcare provision, are sometimes the only option for the sick. But locals have long blamed the darker side of these traditions for the violence that torments their city.

For Buenaventura’s narcos, their black magic is based on West African traditions, mixed with Catholicism and voodoo.

So-called narco saints have become the informal patrons of the drugs trade. For gangsters, paying homage to these figures offers both protection and redemption.Tony Kail is a cultural anthropologist, who advises US law enforcement on narco rituals.

“It becomes like a buffet, where they pick and choose elements of indigenous traditions and belief systems to compile their own religion. It provides a form of psychological empowerment,” he says.

A few miles away, Buenaventura’s decrepit cemetery is a wilderness of plastic flowers. In August 2019, suspects broke in and under the cover of darkness removed the body of Jeferson Cándelo Caicedo from its crypt.

The coffin and remains were taken from one end of the cemetery to the other and set alight. The flames, interrupting the pitch black of the night sky, reached more than 6ft into the air and burned for hours, according to witnesses.

For the criminal underworld, witchcraft is their religion and its rituals are the habits which keep them on top of their game, alive and outside of prison

Cándelo, who was also known as “Trumpy,” was a narco in the same gang as Julio. He was murdered on the order of his superiors. The 39-year-old had apparently been stealing from the gang’s profits.

“The order to kill came from on high,” says Julio. “Stealing from your own is the one thing you don’t get away with.”

In the aftermath of the desecration of Cándelo’s grave, his mother and younger sister were given police protection. In a city centre café, each grasps their cup of coffee with both hands. Authorities believe Cándelo’s body was removed to perform some kind of ritual. It comes as no surprise to his family.

“Killers can believe they’re cursed and the only way to remove that curse is to burn the body of the victim,” says Cándelo’s sister, Kelly.

“There was nothing left when I got to the cemetery in the morning,” says María Gladys Caicedo Roman, Cándelo’s mother. “But the ground was still smouldering.”When asked why they need protection, the two women look at each other.“We fear for our lives,” says Kelly.

In Buenaventura’s vicious Comuna 12, so-called invisible borders define gang turf. Residents can be killed simply for crossing into rival territory. This is one of the city’s most violent neighbourhoods and the most part is under Julio’s control.

He walks the streets, greeting those he meets in a politician-like style. But there is no opposition or challenge from his constituents. Instead they nod and smile nervously. They know who is in charge here.

It is Julio’s responsibility to move cocaine through the city to shipping points on the coast. He manages extortion rackets, collecting weekly fees from local businesses, and he has an army of hitmen upon whom he depends to enforce gang rule and protect his turf.

The Colombian government militarised the city following a 2014 report on casas de pique – or torture houses

Julio says Cándelo’s body had been “prepared.” In a ceremony intended to seek revenge on the murderers, the fingers and toes of the victim are tied together by a witch.

If the identity of the killer is known, their name is written on a small piece of paper and placed inside the body, usually in the mouth. This curse is supposed to bring a slow death to the assailants.

“With Trumpy, the names were found in his anus,” says Julio. “Our names.”He shows a picture on his phone.

“Those that killed Trumpy started to get ill afterwards,” he says. “They had ‘flu-like symptoms and skin rashes. One even had trouble walking because of an infection in his leg.”

For the assassins, their common symptoms were a clear message.

“It was a curse to kill us,” says Julio. “So we knew the toes and fingers had to be cut off and the body burned. After that, everyone got better. The spell was broken.”

The witchcraft of Buenaventura may appear farfetched and exaggerated to most, but on Colombia’s Pacific coast, it is much more than superstition.

For the criminal underworld, witchcraft is their religion and its rituals are the habits, which keep them on top of their game, alive and outside of prison.

“We have to believe in something,” says Julio. “Otherwise we have to face the reality of our lives, the reality and evil of what we do, and nobody wants to admit that.”

Buenaventura’s gang conflict reached boiling point in 2014 when it became infamous for its torture houses. Residents reported hearing screams and finding body parts in the street.

In June 2019, a severed head washed up under the main bridge in Buenaventura, raising fears that the city’s feared torture houses were back.

“They never actually disappeared,” says Julio. “We just moved them out of the city and have got better at dumping the bodies so they won’t be found.”

For the gangsters of Buenaventura, decapitation and dismemberment are a necessary evil intended to protect them from revenge. A body without limbs cannot be prepared, which means killers cannot be cursed. Committing this abhorrent violence becomes an initiation for all gangsters with criminal ambition.

“When I was 18, I had to kill a 22-year-old. I had to cut off his head. He was knelt in front of me. He was crying,” says Julio, whose voice becomes softer. “When you know you’re gonna die, your face changes. Did you know that? You can’t look at that. It puts you off. You can’t look at your victim’s face.”

Julio becomes lost in his own thoughts. There is a long pause before he continues.“You have to be really strong to take off a head in one go. It took me three strikes,” he says.

In July 2019, Buenaventura’s bishop carried out what he called a mass exorcism of the city. Legal action prevented him from using military aircraft to drop holy water on the most dangerous neighbourhoods, and so it was instead sprayed from street level in a huge convoy of vehicles.

“The armed groups represent the work of the devil and they must be stopped,” Bishop Ruben Dario Jaramillo Montoya told the Telegraph.

The city’s seafront communities of wooden shacks, many on stilts to protect them from flooding, are some of Colombia’s most vulnerable. Few have access to piped drinking water or sewerage, and two-thirds of the city’s 400,000 inhabitants live in poverty, according to government figures. But for those that live in these communities, the mass exorcism was welcome.

“We sometimes feel forgotten,” said resident and teacher Lydia Urrutia. “Events like these bring people together and send a powerful message to the criminals. We need to take back control of our city.”

“This exorcism was as much about trying to create a climate of trust as it was anything else,” said Bishop Jaramillo. “People need to feel more secure. They need to know we have their backs.”

Each gang in Buenaventura has a network of witches they can rely on. Some specialise in providing protection, while others focus their work on absolution or the more sinister aspects of witchcraft involving murder. It means a narco usually works with several witches simultaneously, and they form an intimate bond.

“Witches become friends,” says Julio. “There is a lot of trust involved. They know a lot about us and what we do.”

The darkest of the narco rituals is the death curse in which hitmen seek permission and support from the saints to target their prey.

A few blocks away from where Julio’s rosary was blessed, another witch stands at a makeshift altar in her kitchen, bearing the statue of Santa Muerte or Saint Death. For narcos, Santa Muerte offers permission to kill. She is a strange and unsettling hybrid of the Virgin Mary and the grim reaper.

The witch has covered her head in a shawl. She lights candles on either side of the table. The portending evil is ruined by the pots and pans and leftovers from lunch rotting in the sun.

The witch holds a small doll-like effigy in which she slowly places pins. The hitman kneels before her. The name of his intended victim is written on a piece of paper. It is not spoken, but it is wrapped around the doll.

This witch is new to the gang. She’s a replacement for Cándelo’s mother and sister, who would apparently normally do this work.

“Trumpy’s family used to be our first choice,” says Julio. “But since we found out they cursed us and prepared his body, we had to find someone else.”

Witches cannot work for multiple gangs. They must choose a side and stand by it.“It can be dangerous work,” says the witch, who asked not to be named. “We can become targets by rivals if they suspect we’re casting spells against them.”

“Witches tell us the only way to be sure a spell has been broken is to kill the person, who cast it in the first place,” says Julio. “It’s why Trumpy’s family has protection. They think we might go after them. But killing witches is risky. Nobody wants to do it because of what might happen. They have a lot of power.”

The hitman looks up expectantly at the witch. She nods her head. He has the permission he needs to kill and the target should now be easier to catch. In the city centre café, Mrs Caicedo denies she and her daughter are involved in organised crime and witchcraft.

“These are all lies,” she says, still clutching her coffee cup. Her daughter chuckles and shakes her head.

Buenaventura’s harbour is the main source of income of the city, but the wealth rarely reaches local communities

“I’m running for election to be a local councillor,” says Mrs Caicedo. There is a sense of urgency in her voice for the first time. “I just want all of this behind me.”

On the banks of an isolated river, Julio meets another of his witches. He has come for what he calls his monthly “bath,” a cleansing ceremony that offers atonement for his crimes. “This is like confession,” he says. “A way to make up for our sins.”

With more than 50 murder victims under his belt, Julio has much to repent.He strips to his underwear. A male witch known as “The King” dunks Julio’s head beneath the water, as he recites verses from his book of spells. These incantations are the result of more than 30 years of experience.

“Many of these spells were passed on to me by my father, but a few I have written myself and they work well,” says the King.

A secret concoction of herbs and plants is rubbed over Julio’s back and chest.“I can feel the lotion work. It stings,” says Julio.

The King works with narcos all over Colombia and claims to be in high demand. It is not just in Buenaventura the narco saints are taking hold. A book of spells to protect members of another criminal group in the department of Chocó was discovered by police in 2019.

It contained scrawled incantations to open doors, chains and handcuffs for those behind bars. And in 2014, one of Colombia’s most wanted, Roberto Vargas, alias “Gavilán,” was carrying two dried hawk’s claws when he was shot dead by police.

These lucky charms, prepared by the King, ultimately failed to protect him.“It can happen,” says the King. “You have to believe. If you just wear them, they will fail you. You must pray to the saints all the time.”

The King towers above most others, yet speaks in gentle whispers, the type that comes with age. He tries to hide his frailty, but as he lifts his arms to make the shape of the cross, they tremble.

He seems tired, but there is no time for rest. The King is constantly on the move. “I am always travelling,” he says. “Gangsters do dirty work. They need protection and there is much to repent, much to cleanse from their souls.”

“There is definitely a therapeutic element involved in narco-rituals,” says Mr Kail. “They are intended to relieve the stress about being caught, about being attacked by the enemy. Narcos can fear the wrath of spirits more than mankind.”

Julio says he is not scared by guns and grenades. Instead he is terrified by the supernatural. He confesses to the witch he has been haunted by dreams of a dog that transforms its shape and size each time it chases him. Such visions are evidence someone is after him, says his witch, who plunges Julio back into the water to rid him of the curse.

But beyond the theatrics of these rituals, it is clear that Julio is ridden with guilt. Years of brutal murder are bound to take their toll. The trauma induced by the blood he has spilled is unmasked, if only briefly.

“With each new bath, it seems to take longer,” he says. “I begin to think more about what I have done and the people I have done it too.”

Julio is trapped in a world he says he cannot escape so the opportunities to repent appear to allow him to live with the pain and terror he causes.

“Once a gangster, always a gangster,” he says. “The only way out from this life is death, so if I can’t stop, all I can do is ask for forgiveness, cleanse and get on with it.”

Pictures by Victor Raison

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OF WITCHES, SCARES AND SOMETHING ELSE. A LITTLE BIT ABOUT THE COLOMBIAN ORAL TRADITION.

Nothing better to end the month of October than a good dose of stories of witches, horrors and more, based on the myths and legends of the Colombian oral tradition. Any great-great-grandfather, grandfather, father or son that has had in his childhood the opportunity to spend some time in the country, will never forget those nights, dark, cold and stormy, where the official narrator of each place delighted and terrified the childish troop with his stories. As I had the opportunity to live this experience, I can tell you that there was no pleasure more terrifying than that; no child wanted to hear such terrible stories but at the same time no one wanted to miss them for anything in the world. The event always took place in the same way: the children gathered in the dining room, the kitchen or in the great corridor of the farm and suddenly, as if commanded by God or the Devil, the narrator in question appeared. Immediately someone pronounced, or better, opened the door to terror and fright – saying – Candelaria, that’s the name of our narrator, why don’t you come and tell us some scary stories?

I never knew of any storyteller who resisted the temptation of such a silent, attentive and frightened audience. This is how Candelaria began to narrate her experiences or the experiences of her relatives, neighbors or close friends; it could never be the story of a stranger. The best part came, Candelaria would start the story: – I’m going to tell you what happened to Don Abel from the farm below. On a night like this, dark and stormy, much later, since there was no fear before midnight, Don Abel came from town alone, quiet on his mule and smoking a cigarette. Suddenly, when he was walking along the path of Don Gerardo’s coffee plantation, he felt a shadow pass quickly by his side. The mule began to whinny, stopped and refused to continue walking. – This fool mule, scared for nothing – said Don Abel. He got off the mule, grabbed it by the reins and pulled it along. At the bend in the ravine, just turning around, a phantom appeared, a woman lying in the ravine, just looking at her you could see she was a soul in pain, tormented. Her hair was long, her tunic was lighted up in white, her hands were chained together and she moaned in a heart-rending way: “ayayayay poor of me, death and with no rest”. You had to hear Candelaria’s moans, they were so pitiful that not even the creature itself would be so frightened. She went on with her story. Just seeing and hearing that, Don Abel was stunned and almost swallowed the tobacco. Of course, by this point in the story we were already frozen in terror, we had held hands and were already so close to each other that we looked like a bunch of bananas. She continued: Little by little the phantom approached to Don Abel, and there he was, he got on the mule and almost flew away. As soon as he arrived at the town square, he looked for the priest’s house and almost knocked down the door. – What you saw, my son, was a soul in sorrow, said the priest, the soul of some deceased person of the town who died without being forgiven by someone he seriously offended, or perhaps, with the need to reveal some important secret. – Son, come back again to the place of the meeting and help this poor soul in sorrow to rest in peace for ever and ever, Amen. Before returning to the meeting with the soul in sorrow, the Priest gave him some indications: Always carry a cross in your pocket, say a prayer to the deceased and finally ask her how you can help her. With the same panic as the first time, he approached the place where he had heard her lament, and there she continued: “ay ay ay ay poor of me, dead and without rest”. After following the priest’s instructions, the grieving soul told him: “I stole Carlota’s necklace and it was hidden in her henhouse”. Mrs Carlota was a very rich woman who lived in a big house next to the village church, rich but extremely selfish. The priest and Don Abel visited her, told her the story and together they went to the chicken coop. There, under the chicken feeder, they found the stolen necklace and as Mrs Carlota was more fearful than selfish, she forgave the robbery of the suffering soul, as long as she rested in peace and never thought of going to meet her.

Once the story was over, the dining room, kitchen or corridor remained in an impressive silence, nobody spoke, nobody moved, nobody breathed… Then, something that I will never be able to define, if the most terrible thing had already happened or it was only the beginning of it Suddenly, we all began to run to the rooms; 2, 3 and even 4 of us threw ourselves on each bed, our eyes overflowing and our ears attentive; the blanket up to the head and the heart beating fast. Those were the worst nights I remember, nobody could sleep, everybody was attentive to the moaning and the sound of chains of some other soul in pain, besides, we stirred up all the stories and it was time to take care of it as no witch was flying over the roof, beating chocolate in the kitchen or laughing. We all knew how easy it would be to hunt her, all we had to do was throw salt or mustard grains on the floor, which she was unable not to count and so she stopped to do it, leaving that moment as the precise one to tie her with a bow and throw her away; Even if the truth be told, if no one was ever able to put open scissors on the bedroom door, water salt on the floor or put a sheet of “witches’ scarecrow” under the pillow, to be protected from the witch’s discomfort, much less anyone would have the courage to hunt her down. What we could never do, apart from hunting the witch, was to identify one. The only thing we had to do was to tell the witch who was bothering the house: “Tomorrow you come for salt” and the person who would get up early to ask for a little salt was supposed to be the witch from the previous night. We never saw anyone come for salt and we were always very attentive. Although I never knew if the bad nights were Candelaria’s responsibility and her terrible stories or a few feet on my face, a surprising involuntary knee injury or the sustained balance on the edge of the bed to keep me from falling out of the bed. The Colombian oral tradition is rich in myths and legends, the inhabitants of each region have transmitted through them, from generation to generation, the explanations of inexplicable phenomena. Hacienda Portugal is part of a region called Antioquia la Grande and these are some of its main myths and legends:

LA MADREMONTE
La madremonte is a creature half woman and half mount, dressed in leaves, vines, mosses, and branches; with a big hat that prevents others from seeing her face. She lives in big and small tangled mountains, with big trees, rivers, creeks and puddles. According to the legend, when she bathes, rivers and ravines become furious, and the muddy waters are carried away by terrible squalls that end up flooding everything, causing terrible damages to crops and fields. Also, it emits infernal cries and curses with plagues to the crops or diseases to the cattle of those who invade other people’s lands, are disloyal or cheat. LA LLORONA
According to the legend, “La Llorona” is a languid figure, red eyes and dirty, careless appearance who wanders around on full moon nights looking for her dead son. She is a sorrowful soul that lives immersed in pain, horror and despair; of which people assure it was she who killed her son, left him at the foot of a ravine and the current of the ravine dragged him away. Therefore, she was condemned to wander through the banks of the ravines in search of her dead son, shouting and crying in a heartbreaking and pitiful way. LA PATASOLA
This is a woman who lives among the thick tangle of jungles and forests. According to people she was a woman who dishonored her family by being found by her husband in the company of his employer, in his own home . When she tries to flee, he cuts off her leg and the woman dies as a result. She becomes a soul in sorrow that appears as a beautiful woman who attracts men to fall in love, who in the darkness leads them to the depths of the forest with her lustful looks, until she becomes a horrible woman with eyes of fire, mouth with teeth of feline and a dishevelled hair that falls on her face to hide her ugliness. Others say that sometimes, the laments of a lost woman are heard; they shout to help her, but the moans become more distressing and distant as the victim advances to the depths of the forest where she ends up getting lost and the leg alone attacks her. There are still many missing: “El cura sin cabeza”, “El hojarasquín del bosque”, “La pate tarro”, “El sombreron”, “La larga” ………. but these are left for another meeting.

Brujas: The Magic and Power of Witches of Color (Paperback)

Witchcraft has made a comeback in popular culture, especially among feminists, and there is a new kind of witch emerging in our cultural consciousness: the bruja . Brujas chronicles the magical lives of these practitioners as they extend their personal rituals to larger self-care and activist movements and use their services to empower young people of color. The bruja represents the new “witch” of the United States, a practitioner who melds ancient tradition with new technologies and mirrors the diversity and activist spirit of today’s youth. Brujas reminds us that witchcraft is more than a trend—it’s a movement.

Brujas follows this movement from its historical practices to its current manifestations. Through profiles of bruja practitioners who make their living offering magical products and services, author Monteagut examines the conflicts that have arisen as spiritual traditions are appropriated and commodified. Brujas also delves into the historical practices from which brujas borrow to provide readers with information and resources to begin their own spiritual practices and businesses. Above all, the bruja movement is about empowering people to find the healing magic in their own lives and to imagine a happier and healthier world.

About the Author

Lorraine Monteagut is a Cuban-Colombian writer born in Miami, Florida. She holds a PhD in communication from the University of South Florida, where she began her research on bruja feminism and the reclamation of ancestral healing traditions. Inspired to the spiritual life by her great grandmother, who was an espiritista in Cuba, she facilitates astrology workshops and moon circles in her local community in Tampa, Florida. She loves hiking, gardening, and backyard beekeeping.

Praise For…

"Captivating, inspiring, and filled with tangible magick, Brujas offers a much-needed perspective that showcases the beautiful diversity of what it means to live a mystical life. Lorraine expertly weaves tantalizing narratives infused with love and hope, while guiding readers on a journey through often ignored histories, all while helping them establish a magickal practice that honors their own lineages and ancestors. A must-read for any witch." — Gabriela Herstik , author of Inner Witch , Bewitching the Elements , and Embody Your Magick

“This is an essential read for our community! This book approaches brujeria in such an inclusive and healing way.” — Valeria Ruelas , The Mexican Witch, author of Cosmpolitan Love Potions

"More of this please! Brujas, Witches of Color are ancestral magical beings and the world we live in has tried to silence our voices. There is a rise happening, a roar thundering through our veins and the world will hear our voices louder than they can ever imagine. This book is such a beautiful tribute to the different stories and experiences we go through as brujas. Lorraine is one of the most beautiful souls I've ever met and her passion to bridge us together is apparent in this must-have book! Amplify the voice of Witches of Color by reading their stories." —Juliet Diaz , author of Witchery and Plant Witchery

"A necessary book that explores how brujas, no longer maligned, are in the midst of a huge comeback. The author explores their roots while recognizing the importance of their traditions and the cultural significance of witchcraft." — Boston Globe

"Important, informative, beautifully written, well researched, fun to read, practical, and mesmerizing— Brujas will leave you spellbound. Highly recommend." — Amanda Yates Garcia , author of Initiated: Memoir of a Witch

" Brujas explores the liminal spaces between worlds: between the seen and the unseen, between identities and roles, between borders. Through her own family’s immigration from Cuba and the narratives of witches of color, Monteagut shines a light on the violent past and present for those who live in the in-between state. Blending memoir, narrative, history, and guidance, Brujas will inspire your personal magical journey and your spiritual activism. Brujas is an act of reparation : Monteagut restores our connection to our ancestors, the land, ourselves, and to one another. Whether you’re new to magical work or a long-time witch, Brujas is an absolute must read. It will open your heart and deepen your practice." — Melissa Carroll , editor of Going Om

" Brujas is a book much needed in the magical canon. It weaves together memoir, practice, and many fascinating voices of the incredible brujas working today. Every witch, bruja, activist, and academic interested in reconnection with the self and creating the next world needs to read this book." — Sarah Faith Gottesdiener , author of The Moon Book

"This is a spellbinding book— a magical, elegant study of the powerful and fierce movement that challenges capitalism's encroachment on spirituality, human rights, and the environment." —Ben Montgomery , author of A Shot in the Moonlight: How a Freed Slave and Confederate Soldier Fought for Justice in the Jim Crow South

"A love letter to the ancestors , matriarchs past and present, and the new generation looking to connect." — Booklist

• Body, Mind & Spirit / Witchcraft
• Social Science / Feminism & Feminist Theory
• History / Latin America

• Hardcover (October 5th, 2021): $26.99
• Compact Disc (October 5th, 2021): $24.99
• MP3 CD (October 5th, 2021): $24.99

Colombian witchcraft is deeply connected to nature, as various plants and animals are believed to possess spiritual powers. For example, yagé (ayahuasca), a powerful hallucinogenic plant, is used in rituals to induce altered states of consciousness and connect with the spiritual realm. Other plants, such as chamomile and rue, are used for their cleansing and protective properties.

Catholicism has heavily influenced Colombian witchcraft, resulting in a unique blend of practices and beliefs. Many rituals and prayers incorporate elements of Catholicism, such as the use of crosses, holy water, and saints. This syncretism allows for the integration of indigenous and African traditions in a way that is accepted and practiced by a large portion of the population. Despite its deep roots in Colombian culture, witchcraft has often been stigmatized and associated with negative connotations. In the past, witchcraft was seen as heresy and practitioners were persecuted by the Spanish colonial authorities. Today, witchcraft is sometimes viewed as superstition or fraud, but there are still many Colombians who believe in and practice these traditions. Colombian witchcraft continues to thrive, especially in rural areas and among indigenous communities. It serves not only as a spiritual practice but also as a way of cultural preservation and resistance against the forces of modernity. As Colombia undergoes social and political changes, the practice of witchcraft provides a sense of identity and belonging for those who engage in it. In conclusion, Colombian witchcraft is a complex and multifaceted aspect of the country's culture. It blends ancient indigenous beliefs, Catholicism, and African traditions to create a unique system of beliefs and practices. Despite being stigmatized at times, Colombian witchcraft continues to play an important role in the spiritual and cultural lives of many Colombians..

Reviews for "Colombian Witchcraft: Exploring Sacred Places and Energy Vortexes"

1. John - 1/5 stars - Colombian witchcraft was a big disappointment for me. The book promised to provide an in-depth look into the world of witchcraft in Colombia, but I found it to be lacking in substance. The information provided was superficial and did not delve into the true practices and beliefs of Colombian witches. Additionally, the writing style was dry and lacked any sort of engaging narrative. Overall, I would not recommend this book to anyone looking for a genuine exploration of Colombian witchcraft.

2. Lisa - 2/5 stars - I was hoping to learn more about the history and cultural significance of witchcraft in Colombia, but this book fell short of my expectations. The author seemed more focused on describing personal anecdotes and experiences rather than providing a comprehensive understanding of the topic. Furthermore, the writing was scattered and disorganized, making it difficult to follow along. I would have preferred a more academic approach to the subject matter, with references to reliable sources and expert opinions. Unfortunately, this book did not meet my needs as a reader seeking to gain a deeper understanding of Colombian witchcraft.

3. Tom - 1/5 stars - Colombian witchcraft appeared to be an intriguing read, but I was sorely disappointed. The book lacked coherence and failed to provide any meaningful insights into the practices and beliefs of Colombian witches. The author's personal biases and opinions overshadowed any factual information, making this book feel more like a subjective memoir rather than an objective exploration of the topic. I found myself questioning the accuracy of the information presented and ultimately felt unsatisfied with the lack of depth in the content. Overall, I would not recommend this book to anyone seeking a comprehensive understanding of Colombian witchcraft.

Colombian Witchcraft: A Gateway to the Supernatural