Sheshamane’s Beloved Healer Sister Bev
“I wouldn’t call myself a healer- people call me a healer,” is one of the first things Sister Bev tells us when we meet her. Yet, ask anyone in Shashemane for a healer, and they will point you to Sister Bev. Sago Journal sits down with Sister Bev to find out more about Shashemane’s beloved healer.
Sister Bev, photographed in front of her house in March of 2023 by Basia Diagne.
We arrive in Shashamane on a warm, cloudy evening, greeted by the sweet, dewy air heavy with the harmonious sounds of calls to prayer echoing from both church and mosque. Situated in the Southern Oromia region of Ethiopia and some 30 minutes from the lake town of Hawassa, Shashamane is most famously known as “the Promised Land” and home of the Rastafari.
The Rastafari movement, philosophy, and practice emerged as an Africa-centered religion in 1930s Jamaica as a response to social and economic inequalities faced by the Black community and descendents of enslaved persons. The unification of the religion was catalysed by the coronotation of Tafari Makonnen or Ras Tafari (Ras meaning "chief" or "head"), who was crowned Emperor of Ethiopia on November 2, 1930. Ras Tafari would later take on the name Haile Selassie I, accompanied by the title of “King of Kings, Lord of Lords, and Conquering Lion of the Tribe of Judah.”
Nyahbinghi Tabernacle Church in Sheshamane, Ethiopia - the main congregation space for Rastafari commmunal worship.
Regarded by the Rastafari as their long-awaited Messiah who would one day bring them back to Africa, Emperor Haile Selassie played a pivotal role in the establishment of Shashamane as a Rastafari settlement. Following the end of World War II, Haile Selassie extended a heartfelt gesture of gratitude to the descendants of slaves who had supported Ethiopia during the Italian invasion. He granted them 200 hectares of land in Shashamane, a symbolic offering to those who wished to return to Africa.
The connection between Haile Selassie and the Rastafari deepened in 1966 when the Emperor visited Jamaica. During this visit, he urged the Rastafari to return to their ancestral homeland in Africa. Inspired by his words, waves of Rastafari began to repatriate and settle in Shashamane during the late 60s and 70s, fulfilling a prophetic vision of return and establishing a vibrant community in the heart of Ethiopia.
Haile Selassie welcomed by thousands of Rastafari during his first historic trip to in Jamaica, 1966. | Lynn Pelham, Life Magazine
Ras Abel, the visionary behind the Tree of Life Eco-Lodge and a cherished friend of Sago Journal, awaits us at the bus station. Warm hugs and “how are you’s” are exchanged before Abel, with a mischievous glint in his eye, announces, "I have someone special for you to meet - Sister Bev."
We hop onto a three-wheeler, navigating through the bustling traffic as we journey towards the outskirts of Shashamane and the Tree of Life Lodge. Here, we will spend the next few days camping under the protective canopy of an 800-year-old Sycamore tree, a majestic relic saved from the brink of destruction by Ras Abel's dedication eight years prior. The following day, we trail behind Abel as he leads us through the rugged limestone gorge. This natural marvel is a hive of activity, where Shashamane residents gather daily to chip away at the limestone for sale, unwittingly contributing to the erosion of the gorge and the dwindling of its waters.
Tree of Life Eco Lodge in Shashemene, in the center, an 800 year old sycamore tree.
Ras Abel photograhed in his garden at Tree of Life Eco Lodge, Shashemene.
We arrive at a large gate decked with the Star of David- signaling a Rastafari household. Sister Bev greets us at the door, her kind eyes shining through oversized, tinted cat-rimmed glasses and her locs wrapped back in a soft camo cloth. Her presence is warm and jolly as she ushers us in from the gate, which gives way into a grassy overgrown plot lined on the perimeter with castor, papaya and avocado trees. To the left, a small nursery of reused plastic bags and sacks teeming with an array of seedlings, shaded by a net on raised stilts. We follow her graceful stride through the garden and onto the patio of her turquoise and yellow one-story house, the door and windows adorned with red-painted metal, etched intricately with hearts and the symbol of the star of Judah.
Abel and Sister Bev exchange pleasantries and catch up on news, both realising it has been quite some time since their last encounter. Sister Bev shares that she has only just returned from Addis, where she spent the past 9 months caring for an elderly Alzheimer's patient from the Shashamane community.
“Sit, sit,” she urges us, gesturing towards the stools. Nearby, two puppies yap excitedly from their pen just off the corner of the patio, eager for her love and attention after her recent return. A younger, scrawny puppy, just a few weeks old, makes its way onto the patio from inside the slightly cracked open front door of the house. Hobbling slowly, the puppy pauses right in front of Sister Bev, peering up at her with wet and tender eyes.
"Ah, there goes Miss Trouble," Sister Bev murmurs, her chuckle carrying a mix of affection and amusement as she tenderly scoops up the puppy in her hand. "She found me not long after I returned to Addis, looking worse for wear, but she's filling out now. I used to have six dogs! They’ve all come to me, all of the dogs I’ve had have always come to me.” Sister Bev's gentle demeanour radiates a grandmotherly aura of care and tenderness. It's no wonder that lost and battered animals gravitate toward her, seeking solace in her nurturing presence.
Easing her way onto a chair just in front of the front door, she asks what we do, and we begin to explain the concept behind Sago Journal, and the stories of healers we are documenting.
“I wouldn’t call myself a healer- people call me a healer,” she laughs, beginning her story.
“I am a Rastafarian. Last November marked twenty-two years since I first settled in Shashemane, and I have no regrets. I used to work for the Alzheimer’s Society in the UK as a care manager. In 1999, they organised their first conference on the African continent in South Africa with the big doctors and consultants. Only about five of the twelve members my Care Team were able to attend, and I asked, what about the people who work on the ground?
Myself, my husband and our three children found ourselves travelling to South Africa for the conference, which was a a success. While there, I met Vanessa, who worked for Help Age International Ethiopia, and she invited us to come visit her in Ethiopia. So, after the conference, we traveled to Ethiopia, and ended up staying for two months, spending time in Shashamane as well. In 2001, I returned to Ethiopia and found work supporting a project setting up basic type one clinics and health posts in the rural countryside. That’s how I got here. My first my role was more administrative, project stuff. It became more hands on when I started working with elders and children in Shashemane.
I started looking into alternative medicine when my son was born. He was born very premature, and he had no oxygen. They told me that he would never walk or talk- that he would basically be a vegetable. This was 30-40 years ago, and at the time, because of his special needs, he had to have several tests for allergies. When they did the allergy tests, he was allergic to almost everything. So that meant that I had to start preparing special foods for him at home, because we couldn’t just get things off the shelf from the store.”
Sister Bev’s medicinal plant and herb nursery
“When I came to Ethiopia, I started working with children at the Yawenta Children's Center, which was founded to support vulnerable children living with HIV/AIDS in Shashamane. One of the first things I noticed was that they all had scalp problems, very bad sores, and things like that. Many of these children had been on antibiotics and anti-retroviral therapy (ART) since birth, and nothing really works for them topically. What I first noticed about the children, besides the visible wounds and sores, was the impact that this had on their self-esteem. They would hide their faces, because everything was so visual, you could see these wounds. With my Son, he had chronic asthma and eczema. Nothing from the pharmaceutical industry seemed to work on his skin or help, so I started making topical oil concoctions to remedy this, making neem oil to use on his skin.”
“Years later, when I saw the children at the center, I thought, you know what, let me make some neem oil. I initially got involved with the project to be there, 3-4 hours a week as a Health Consultant but it ended up being a full time, and 13 years later, I am still at it as a volunteer. So it started off with me really treating the children for their external skin problems. The neem oil helped clear a lot of the sores and wounds, obviously there are a lot of other factors involved, like diet and nutrition, but the main thing was to improve their self-esteem, for their external appearance.”
“There is a lot of taboo with HIV, especially towards the children- nobody wants to touch them, hold them or hug them. So even with me simply taking the time to sit with the children, to rub the oil on them and show care, it helped immensely for their self esteem. It was really the whole persona that got to me, the self esteem issues. Now, when I walk through the schools, it’s all hugs and they yell ‘Sister Bev, Sister Bev!’ ”
“I would speak to the parents as well, explaining what I was doing and giving them advice, on how to clean the affected areas and apply the oils on their children, to care for them in this way. It started with the neem oil, then I started making avocado oil, then papaya oil- just natural oils, all to use mainly externally. Then, five-six years ago, another Ethiopian family who had heard about me, came looking for me as one of their family members had an external cyst, and they were saying that they were having a hard time getting pure castor oil to use on the cyst. In the back of my head, I thought to myself “well, I have plenty of castor trees in my garden- why not make castor oil?” I made the oil, and taught them to apply it as a poultice- and it healed the cyst.”
Disappearing into the house briefly, Sister Bev returns with some castor seeds, smooth and waxy on the surface, leaving a slight oiliness on the fingers, as well as a a small pot filled with castor oil.
Sister Bev shows the castor oil, once extracted from the castor seeds.
A pot filled with castor seeds, set to be prepared for oil extraction.
“I share a lot of this knowledge, and teach people about the benefits of castor oil-, ‘kobo’ in Amharic, for them to understand how helpful it is internally and externally, for your hair and for any kind of abscess. I mostly do oils, as well as food spices and herbs. I also make CBD oil, which I used on one boy, Johnny, he’s about 18 now, but he had an open sore on his foot that went down to the bone. I used CBD oil blended with shea butter to make an ointment to heal his wound. Of course, I had to ask the parents, since ganja is still very taboo in Ethiopia and especially outside of Shashemene. I cleaned and dressed the wound daily. I am very tough in general, but that was incredibly difficult. However, after about seven days, the wound had fully healed.
I also use a lot of myrrh. Myrrh has many healing properties beyond its known use an incense, but as a healing property. Just before you came, I had someone here who had a scalp problem, and I told him to take two tablespoons of ground myrrh, with hot water in a half liter bottle. You shake it, strain it, and then just use it as a hair wash- it’s anti-fungal. You can use it to gargle as well for gingivitis, it’s preventative but also healing.
So yeah, that’s why a lot of people come to the house. I still wouldn’t say that I am a healer, but I know what's good, and I generally don’t make anything for people to consume internally. But when I see an injury, I just know what to do- it just comes. I don’t see visions or anything, but I just know.”
The door and windows of Sister Bev’s homestead adorned with red-painted metal, etched intricately with hearts and the symbol of the star of Judah.
“A lot of it is really taking the time to care- to heal with love. Everybody is in a rush all the time, especially in the health services here. I find that even the time to explain, what you do, what’s going to happen. Generally when people say they are healers here in Ethiopia, people still kind of look at you, funny.
So I never really call myself a healer, I just do what I know.”
Sister Bev shows her avocado tree, explaining how she produces avocado oil.
Sister Bev demonstrating her glass and metal solar herb de-hydration machine, which she designed and had made in Ethiopia.
“The other day, Hapty, the taxi driver, was on the way to the hospital, bringing some clients. When the family explained what was going on with the child, he turned the taxi around and brought them here, told them “you need to see sister Bev first”. He also brought a little girl to me about eight days ago. She had a ringworm wound, and it had gotten infected. I told them to use garlic, a little bit of honey, and it cleared up. The garlic oil by itself will sting, so you need honey, or coconut oil. One of the first things I tell parents is to use myrrh to avoid the recurring infections. I even provide dressings, because they are expensive. But a lot of people donate, nurses will sometimes come by and bring gauze as well, I’ve got a little cupboard there filled up.
I don’t make anything internal, just external- apart from spices. It’s important to have the right dressings. I’ve received some patients, three to be exact, who had rabbit skin put on their wounds- so the wound gets infected, and they don’t put any form of proper dressing on. When they get here, I put them in a bath- with warm water and salt. You end up having to peel it off. It takes a lot of time, and it’s incredibly painful for the children.
So that’s how I started, with the children, and in the community, but now I get called to Addis for cancer patients, terminally ill patients- to make them comfortable, while they are transitioning, especially when they have bed sores from lying down for so long.
The world treats healers like they need to have the right papers, “you’re not qualified, it’s illegal”. So far, nothing has gone wrong. I’ve got to be honest, nobody has ever come back and said “you’ve done this.”
Q: Do you plan to pass on your knowledge, will you train someone?
“There are girls and boys at the Center that I am teaching, I show them what to do, how to have a hygiene routine. What I am doing now, it was never the plan. I cared for my terminally ill mom until she passed away, and what I learned from caring for her is mostly caring for terminally ill people, I had never worked with children before, I wanted to pass on those kind and patient values, which in the West we didn’t really have, and even here in places. It’s about making time. I try to identify people who have that calling, who can provide that care, gentle care. I can sense when they have the calling.
Our community is an aging community, we need more caregivers in our community- there aren’t enough. Not just crisis care, but more preventative care. One of them, he’s now a doctor. I spoke to him today, and. I had a meeting last Monday with our social worker and counselor to see if they can identify any more students and hopefully by July I’ll be able to do some basic training.
That will be the last leg of my journey then, I’m going to retire.”
Thyme (center) & Spanish thyme growing in Sister Bev’s garden- used to treat respiratory problems, digestive issues, and skin conditions.
We meander through Sister Bev's garden for a little more, and she proudly showcases the diverse array of trees, plants, and herbs she cultivates for crafting her healing ointments, oils, and pomades. Among the verdant foliage stand papaya, rosemary, cannabis, spanish thyme, castor trees, and avocado, each nurtured with care and purpose.
Before we head out, Sister Bev sends us off with some delicious date cake she made the day before- sticky and sweet glory melting on the tongue.
“I’m not a sweet tooth, I make all these sweets, but I am not a sweet tooth, ” she laughs.
We leave bellies & hearts full.
Many thanks to Sago Journal’s dear friend & healer Ras Abel for introducing us to Sister Bev.