“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

Now. Give us a moment. We have you in Africa. First of all, in 4 BC, as a woman. Now it is not generally known that there was a civilization at that time, rather well developed, in the southwestern corner of the continent. I will attempt to get at the name—Mabunda—Mabunda. You were black and a craftsman, for there were crafts. You were what is called a “chief hunter.” And on the land, which you then inherited, there were artifacts from a still earlier civilization. And in your hunting expeditions you sometimes came upon these. And in one of your excursions you came upon the image of a small god, long since forgotten by that civilization, and the god was called “Marumba.” It was a small black image—something like the stereotyped Buddha image—but with several differences. The object was of ivory. The civilization, even then long forgotten, had lost all of the knowledge that that earlier civilization possessed. The eyes of the image were like dowels. And from the pupils, lines came outward so that the pupils appeared to be like a half-seen sun or moon, and the lines like rays.

Careful watch was also kept on these smaller sticks. And the time of the seasons was also known from these, and the journey of the stars across the sky. But you came upon this image of a lost god, alone, and you did not tell your friends or associates, but instead you listened. And though it was your first reincarnation, you were alert.

And so you kept solitary vigil with this god, this image. And you watched it alone until finally you learned its message. And in the day, you continued in those pursuits necessitated by your life in the tribe.

Now, the image of the god was to be put into the earth, flat upon it. And by the pressure of the ivory image upon the earth, the months were also told and it sank into the ground, little by little. And you became obsessed with learning the message that this image seemed to give you.

Maraba Iraqua was your name, and you put about your body the dead wings of birds and danced about the image. “Macraugh, macraugh”—the sound of the birds then. The birds you killed... and used their wings, dancing about the image. You became known as a witch doctor, only that was not the term then. And shortly after, others joined you. But you did not learn all the secrets of this strange image. And when you died, they ate your flesh and burned your bones and buried them in a circle around the image. But you did not feel that you had learned enough. You waited a long time to return. And in the meantime you had experiences in other realities.

And it is this image of a god that you have been seeking to escape and yet fear that you will once again find. Now this is the god of your infancy and shortly after. For in all that you had, those qualities of unbending justice, inhumanely applied, were what clung to your mind and heart and tinged the edges of your soul with fear.