If asked what I think about the after life, psychics’ and ghost etc. I would just say that I’m a healthy skeptic.

Even after the experience that I will share with you in just a while I still believe there are those people who do possess certain extraordinary gifts.

Unfortunately though, there are those who’s only goal is to fake it by attempting to take money from those who are susceptible and the vulnerable.

The story that I’m about to share with you is true and for me very profound and very real.

A year had past since that traumatic period in 2001 which I refer to as my Annus Horribilis, (Lat. Terrible Year). I was happy at the way I was healing; the symptoms of MS were retreating slowly but surely.

With the aid of natural remedies, a change in my thought processes and my QiGong practice, I was able to walk again.

It is important to note here that to the surprise of family, friends and medical staff my dramatic and positive transformations were happening without the aid of conventional medicines.

So what is my story? It begins with a trip to Cuba. It was my last day on this beautiful Caribbean Island where the people were as warm as the welcoming climate.

I had less than 8 hours left before my return flight to the UK.

As I sat on bench on the sidewalk in an area called Old Habana (Havana), I reflected on the great time I had had there.

Eventually I was abruptly woken from my daydream by a passer by.

As he walked pass me he asked me for a light, I politely told him that I didn’t smoke.

Expecting the stranger to carry on walking, he instead responded by pointing out that I was from England.

He then asked me if I would like him to tell me something.

I suddenly became a little defensive, he was a tall thickly built adult male, (he reminded me of the actor Forest Whitaker) and my London survival skills were being activated.

I wondered if this hulk of a man was planning an attack on the unsuspecting tourist, me.

Anyway, to make a very long story very short I will get to the main point. You’ll be happy to know that I was not attacked.

Instead I allowed the stranger to tell what he needed to.

Although my Cuban Spanish was not as good as his English we communicated through carefully selected words and hand gestures.

In fact, the language that he did speak was a mixture of Spanish and with some words which I new to be of West African origin.

“Your brother is OK now, he is fine...Your brother say everything is alright”.

Signing a gun with his hand, the stranger went on to say “your brother got shot, but he say he OK”.

This was impossible I thought, not only was my brother killed by a gun man approximately a year before.

I was overwhelmed because this complete stranger from the other side of the world (500 miles away), during my last few hours in his country, told me something which was impossible for him to know.

But it did not stop there; the Stranger went on to tell me that even though I use to be in a wheel chair I was fine now, “no more wheelchairs”.

As the tears flooded my eyes I thanked the stranger who wanted nothing in return for his fantastic gift.

He told me that he was in training to be a priest and his name was Babalawo.

I have since learned that his name literally means: Father or master of mysticism in the Yoruba language.

Well that’s it, my story in a nutshell which I hope will help others with similar experiences to realise that they are not alone.

Your comments are welcome.