African spiritual
healer in New York.

My husband left on a Friday, after work. He packed a bag while I was at my sister's in Queens. I came home, the apartment was quiet. No note, no message. Just his silence. I waited three weeks before I understood he was not coming back on his own. A colleague told me about Moriba. I called one evening, my throat tight. He did not ask me to tell everything in order.

He asked for my husband's first name, how long we had been married, and when he left. He stayed silent for a moment, then said: "There is someone in his ear. Not a lover. A friend who is feeding him doubts." I felt a chill. Twelve days later, my husband called me. He did not explain everything. But he called. I knew I was in the right place when he named the thing I had never told anyone.

If you are angry at everything, read this. I was furious. At my wife, at myself, at the world. She had gone to her mother's in New Jersey, she stopped answering my calls. I was not crying, I was angry. A colleague gave me Moriba's contact. I called him thinking I was wasting my time. He listened without telling me to calm down. He asked me one thing: "Do you want her back, or do you want to understand?" I took a long time to answer. I said: "Both." He worked. Five weeks later, my wife came home. She did not apologise right away. But she came home. Today, we talk. I am no longer angry.

I did not know if I should call. I circled the phone for three days. I was afraid people would laugh at me, afraid of being naive. My son was having problems at school, my husband was distant, and I felt alone. I finally called Moriba one evening, around 9pm. He answered calmly. He asked me to talk about my son first. He said things about him I had never told anyone. He did not promise a miracle. He said: "We will work, but you have to do your part." I did my part. My son is better. My husband is more present. I do not know if it was him or if it was time. But something changed.

I contacted Moriba from my office on a Friday afternoon. I did not want to call from home. My brother and I had been in conflict for two years over our father's inheritance. We did not speak, we did not see each other. My mother was suffering. I called Moriba and explained the situation.

He asked for our parents' names, the date of death, and what I really wanted. I said: "I want my brother back." He worked. Three weeks later, my brother sent me a message. Just: "Can we talk?" I knew I was in the right place when he told me not to force it. Today, we speak again.

I came from Senegal six years ago. Here, I have no family, no landmarks. My husband worked a lot, he came home late. I started to feel alone, truly alone. I thought about going back. A friend from Dakar told me about Moriba. I called him, a little embarrassed. He spoke to me gently, in Wolof first, then in English. He said: "You are not alone, you are lost. It is not the same thing." He worked for me. A month later, my husband changed. He comes home earlier, he talks to me. I do not know exactly what happened. But I feel better. I am staying here. I have found my place.

My husband had been cold for months. Not mean, just absent. He was there, but he was not there. I called Moriba. He asked me to say nothing for the first few minutes. Just to think about him. I thought about him. He said: "There is an old fatigue, not a woman." I was surprised. I thought there was another woman. There was not. He worked on that fatigue. Two months later, my husband started talking to me again, really talking. He told me he had been exhausted for a long time, that he did not know how to say it. Today, we are better.