ABSTRACT
Khona was a covert mystic. Her prophecies were renowned for their eerie accuracy even though precious little is available on how she invented them. Did she conjure them? Is it possible to believe that Khona possessed transcendental vision? Or did she have an accomplice who helped her? Remarkably, Khona revealed no answers to these questions and yet consistently supported her village community on ways to build sustainable models of dwelling and farming, through her prophecies. The story of Khona’s rise to fame, I argue, zealously guards her disciplinary talents and skill. It is a story that relates the power and impact of mysticism but not its labour. It asks of popular mystics about the source of their prophecies as well as of the work employed to arrive at such foresights. Even before Khona became a mystic, she was a mathematician whose deftness with numbers created its own legends. Khona’s inability or reluctance to speak about her mathematical flair made her seem like a mystic—one whose prophecies were not products of any scientific labour but by simply being the chosen one. The mystery surrounding Khona’s twofold talent is deepened when her father-in-law cuts off her tongue in a desire to silence her permanently. What is of significance here is not what made Khona a mystic but why she preferred being called a mystic over a mathematician. As Khona’s popularity grew, her authority and authorship over her predictions continued to be mediated through these assumptions.
