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Families left shattered by Sierra Leone's ritual killings linked to black magic
Warning: This report contains details some readers may find disturbing.
Four years after her 11-year-old son, Papayo, was found mutilated at the bottom of a well-his organs, eyes, and an arm removed-Sallay Kalokoh remains consumed by grief and frustration. "Today I'm in pain. They killed my child, and now there is just silence," she told BBC Africa Eye. The boy had vanished while selling fish at a market in Makeni, central Sierra Leone, his body discovered only after a two-week search. Police never confirmed it as a ritual killing, a term for murders where body parts are harvested for so-called magical rituals. Such cases, locally tied to juju practices, often vanish into impunity, leaving families like Kalokoh's without answers or justice.
The underground market for human remains
An investigation by BBC Africa Eye uncovered a clandestine network trading in human body parts, driven by demands for perceived supernatural power. Undercover reporters, posing as a politician seeking influence through human sacrifice, met two self-proclaimed juju practitioners who claimed connections to high-profile clients across West Africa. One, calling himself Kanu, operated from a hidden shrine near Sierra Leone's border with Guinea. Masked in red ceremonial garb, he boasted of servicing politicians during election seasons-"this place is full of people"-and displayed a dried human skull, allegedly prepared for a client. "The price of a woman is 70 million leones [$3,000]," he stated when asked for limbs for a ritual.
Another suspect, Idara, operating in Freetown's Waterloo district-a hub for crime and drug abuse-claimed to lead a network of 250 herbalists. "There are no human parts we don't work with," he told undercover reporters, describing collaborators who "capture people" at night. Voice recordings obtained by the BBC included a collaborator ready to "start going out every night" to find victims. Police later raided Idara's compound, arresting him and two others after discovering human bones, hair, and what appeared to be grave dirt. All three were charged with sorcery and possession of ritual weapons but released on bail pending further investigation.
A culture of fear and impunity
Sierra Leone's under-resourced justice system struggles to address ritual killings, which are often misclassified as accidents or animal attacks. With only one pathologist serving 8.9 million people, forensic evidence is scarce. Belief in witchcraft-even among police-further complicates investigations. "I will not go and provoke situations," admitted Assistant Superintendent Aliu Jallo during the Waterloo raid. "They have powers beyond my knowledge."
Sheku Tarawallie, president of Sierra Leone's Council of Traditional Healers, distanced legitimate practitioners from the violence. "We are healers, not killers," he insisted, noting that "diabolic" juju men exploit superstition for profit. "When somebody wants to become a leader, they remove parts from human beings... Burn people, use their ashes for power," he explained. The World Health Organization estimates 45,000 traditional healers operate in Sierra Leone-dwarfing the 1,000 registered doctors-highlighting the reliance on spiritual remedies in a nation still recovering from civil war and Ebola.
Justice delayed, justice denied
The lack of accountability extends even to high-profile cases. In 2023, a university lecturer's body was found buried in a Freetown shrine; despite referrals to the High Court, sources say the case stalled, and suspects were released on bail. Meanwhile, families like Kalokoh's-and that of reporter Umu Fofana's 28-year-old cousin, Fatmata Conteh, murdered in May-face the same agonizing limbo. Conteh, a hairdresser and mother of two, was found dumped by a roadside, her teeth extracted. "She was a lady that never did harm," mourned a relative at her funeral. An autopsy, paid for by the family, proved inconclusive.
For now, the trade in human parts persists in the shadows, fueled by desperation, superstition, and a broken justice system. "We always tell our children to be careful," Kalokoh warned. "It happens frequently in this country."
