Culture : ‘Dial a Witch Doctor’ Promises Fast Relief for Illness, Bad Sex : Thousands of black South Africans rely on space-age access to practitioners of the ancient art. But the phone bills for the new service can be pretty frightening.

JOHANNESBURG, South Africa — Feeling poorly? Having money troubles? Perhaps the boss is on your case. Or your sex life is the pits. Or maybe you’ve been having strange dreams about snakes or birds or, if you’re really unlucky, white people.

For many black South Africans, those are sure signs that it’s time to visit the local sangoma .

But, let’s face it, who has time in this fast-paced modern world to find a good medicine man or woman, travel great distances and then wait in line to be treated?

That’s why thousands of ailing South Africans pick up their telephones every day--and dial a witch doctor.

Twenty-four hours a day, more than 100 traditional healers stand ready to “throw the bones,” mumble incantations, smell out the wisdom of dead ancestors, prescribe concoctions of powdered bark and roots, diagnose illnesses and interpret dreams. And they do all that in prerecorded messages for just $1 to $2.50 a minute.

Thanks largely to those healers, the 9-month-old business of pay telephone lines in South Africa is booming.

“It’s taken off like a rocket ship,” said Walter Preiss, general manager of product development for Telkom, the newly privatized telephone company.

Telkom, using a system modeled on America’s 900 numbers, has leased more than 10,000 pay lines to witch doctors, sexologists, sports stars, celebrities and even political parties, including the African National Congress and the ruling National Party.

The result has been a money-making machine for Telkom and entrepreneurs willing to invest in the one-year experiment.

South Africa has 6 million telephones--one for every six people, compared with one for every two people in the United States. And yet this nation’s pay-telephone services are logging more than $8 million in billings per month.

The services are not cheap for callers. A five-minute session with a witch doctor can cost $12.50, nearly a day’s pay for most blacks. And yet that marriage between ancient culture and modern technology has been the experiment’s most surprising success.

Newspapers are filled with dial-a-witch-doctor advertisements--they now account for 20% of the advertising revenue in the Sowetan, the largest-circulation daily newspaper aimed at blacks in South Africa.

Witch doctors remain a valued part of South African life. Millions of black South Africans, from rural to urban areas, consult them for all manner of biological and metaphysical ills.

South Africa offers the best modern medical care on the continent, but many traditional Africans consider modern medicine to be severely limited. And even middle-class blacks routinely consult both modern and traditional doctors in hopes of getting well.

Some patients prefer the care of inyangas or herbalists, who are usually men and whose cures frequently have a strong basis in modern medicine.

But many others believe that disease and dreams are signs of displeasure from their dead ancestors and require a healing hand with more spiritual powers. Sangomas, most of whom are women, help patients learn what is making the ancestors unhappy and find ways to make amends.

Tembankosi and Catrine Mabuia, well-known healers in the rural province of Natal, run several services from their home near Durban.

Tembankosi hosts the bilingual “muti (herbal medicine) line” and the “dream doctor” line in Zulu and Sotho. His wife is billed as the “true Sotho sangoma Catrine.” She “throws the bones” to contact ancestors and tells the future on 12 recorded messages--one for each of the astrological signs--changing them every few weeks or months.

Since they started their services, the Mabuias have made a bundle--about $1,000 a week--and they’ve also been inundated with mail from callers.

“I didn’t know it would be like this,” said Tembankosi Mabuia, sounding depressed. “But it’s a helluva lot of job. I have to help these people. Most of the people say I must do more, because they need a lot of things. They say what I did on the telephone is not enough for them.”

Like many of the witch doctors , the Mabuias warn callers that their advice is “no guarantee. We must never guarantee, because everything belongs to God,” Mabuia said. “Just to chase the bad spirits, it’s a very hard thing to do on the telephone.”

An important part of the appeal of traditional African medicine has been its personal touch. AIDS victims, in particular, have found great comfort in the treatment of sangomas after modern doctors have sent them home to die.

What the pay services lose in personal contact, they try to make up in accessibility. And sangomas tailor their words of wisdom according to astrological signs, types of ailments and even the nature of the patients’ dreams, recording dozens of different messages, each corresponding to a different phone line. The patient finds his problem or sign and dials the number next to it.

Tembankosi operates separate recorded messages for 12 problems, from bad luck to love woes. He first urges callers to pray to God; he is, after all, a Christian man.

But if that doesn’t work, he prescribes some muti, “something to drink or something to steam,” he says.

“You must try to be genuine, not to just play to people,” Mabuia said. “I’m giving the people the genuine muti because the people have a lot of problems.”

When he’s wearing his “dream doctor” hat, Mabuia interprets 12 dreams. If a caller has dreamed of snakes, for instance, Mabuia tells him that the meaning depends on the type of snake. A dark snake, such as a python or green mamba, can mean either that ancestors are angry because their burial did not follow traditional rituals or that they want the dreamer to become a diviner, or medicine man.

But, if the caller has dreamed about white people, he has “a serious problem,” the dream doctor says.

On his tape, the doctor continues:

When you dream about a white of the opposite sex, it means there is someone who is casting a spell on you using a creature known as Mamphosi. This creature usually changes itself to different forms. When it goes to a male, it changes into a female and wants to sleep with him. When it comes to a female, it changes into a white male.

You must have no doubts that this is a bad dream. This is a creature who is bewitching you. When you dream about a lot of whites, it means that various nations are used when casting a spell on you. You will end up with your blood not circulating properly or your body no longer functioning well.

If you are a female, and you have been bewitched in this manner, males tend to become discouraged to have sex with you after only a single encounter. The same is true for males. And if you are a male, then women will not like to keep company with you for a long time.

I am sure that you need to consult your medicine man while there is time before you find yourself in bigger problems.

Yours who explains dreams,

Ngodi.

Mabuia acknowledges that his recorded messages are not as helpful as a personal session, but he figures they’re better than visiting a substandard practitioner.

“Some of those sangomas are not that much good,” said Mabuia, who also runs a school for sangomas. “They are not talented. I can say that my wife and I are talented.”

South Africa’s pay-telephone services, despite their success, have been beset by teething pains. Tens of thousands of customers who reached out for help have found themselves gasping in disbelief later when the monthly phone bill arrived.

Complaints about high telephone bills have increased 700% since the pay services began, and Telkom has been left in a quandary. The phone company’s antiquated switching system is able to provide itemized bills for only about half its customers.

So, for those who have complained about their bills, Telkom places a monitor on the line. Often as not, the pay-telephone calls emerge as the culprit.

The man who brought the Mabuias and many other sangomas to the telephone lines is Andy Rhodes, a white businessman who runs Call of Africa, one of the pay services. Rhodes says the services have given millions of Africans access to traditional healers, saving patients traveling time and expense.

“We’re not suggesting it’s replacing doctors or anything,” Rhodes said. “We tell people: ‘Don’t take this as advice, just as information.’ ” And, he added, if callers feel they’re being cheated, they’ll stop using the services.

Some sangomas do make a halfhearted attempt at personalizing their services.

“Tell me your name and I will tell you your future,” says the voice of the female sangoma, charging about $1 a minute. “When you hear the beep, I want you to say the first name of your birth. I want you to say your name now.”

“Scott,” I say.

“Scott,” my recorded voice repeats back to me.

“I will now throw the bones for you,” the sangoma says.

There’s a clatter of bones. “Makoo-hoo, “ she chants.

“This is what I see for your work,” she says. “Work can be tiring today. It is because you have not been sleeping well. Maybe you should try to get more sleep in the next few days. If you are sleeping at work, it can be dangerous because it can cause a bad thing to happen. You could cause an accident or even be caught sleeping. Do not get into trouble at work.

“Listen to the voices of the old ones.”

Again, she throws the bones, which sound like dice dancing on a tile floor. The sangoma breathes heavily in and out. “Makoo-hoo, “ she says again.

“This is what I see when it comes to love. Do not worry. Today all those problems which have been worrying you in the past will come to an end. So you can now plan for the future things when it comes to love. If your partners have been giving you a problem in the past, then today will be the day when this all comes to an end. Today can be a day that will be the start of something special in your life. So you have every reason to be happy.”

Four minutes and $4 later, after advice on family and health, the sangoma concludes:

“You have heard the wisdom of the ancient ones today. Please call again. Goodby.”