by Irrira Rikki

Created on: June 30, 2010   Last Updated: September 27, 2010

I can never ignore my UFO sighting. It would be the same as rejecting all things which have been actual happenings, a denial, that even I exist.

Sane intelligent folk from all walks of life do not ask for condemnation, due to occurrences of any kind. Only those who have dared to speak out, and interrogated by putting their head on the chopping block, can speak. No-one in their right mind would go through all the suffering for no reason at all, due to a UFO encounter. Something very real, cannot alter factual account.

As a Christian, I was treated noxiously for even daring to tell. Yet, nothing subtracted from my faith. If anything, it only expanded this, even though I was an outcast. After all, are not all sacred texts supernatural in the real sense of the word. Out of this world?

That's how it happened, and to even begin to explain where they came from, would be to say, another dimension. I was wide awake. Took no medication, drink, smoke, nor drugs, and was as sober as any astronaut must be! This did not make me better than anyone else, but I couldn't find blame for deception there.

It was April, 1972, in the Zulu area of South Africa. I saw the time was exactly 2.am. With wonder at how beautiful the moon looked outside, I went to the window to enjoy it.

Then wondered why the grass about 70 meters further down the hill looked so yellow? Intermediately, my whole being began to pulsate with the same rhythmical light. In tune with each heart-beat, when seeing two soft glowing - almost pastel peach opaque Light Craft - on the very spot. It was as if I and the phenomenon of their vibrating luminosity were one.

Waking my husband, two human men were walking through the open bedroom door, even though outdoor doors were locked. Like an absolute thrilled sister to see a long lost brother I literally jumped into one's arms, calling him by name! My surprised husband brought two chairs, starting to say as the two men seated themselves on the these while we both sat on the end of the bed, “My wife...” but he got no further, confounded.

“I know,” the one called brother answered. “we've been with your wife a long time.” He drew out the word, 'long.'

Astonished, we listened as they spoke of why they came. Their reason was two-fold. Fist speaking to me. “You are like a flower who thirsts, and we knew it was time to give you the water you have been waiting for.” The second was that I must write a report.

Me write? I

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