The Woman at Dawn: A Sacred African Secret of Fortune

 

By Isaac Christopher Lubogo

In Africa, we do not wait for luck—we summon her. My mother told me of a man who believed that if the first person he met each morning was a woman, his day would be blessed with fortune. It worked so well that he stopped leaving it to chance—he hired a maid to ‘accidentally’ meet him at the gate each dawn.

Some call it superstition. We call it wisdom tested by time. For in our land, truth is not only what science can measure—it is also what life repeats until it becomes law.

The elders say: ‘Omukisa gw’oyogerera gujja nga guva wala’ — The blessing you call by name will come, even from far away.

So, if fortune seems distant, stop waiting. Call her. Prepare her seat. Let her find you ready.”

Consider this a grounding true account in both ontological (the nature of being) and epistemological (how we know what we know) truths from our traditions.

In the labyrinth of African wisdom, there exist truths so subtle, so deeply embedded in the marrow of our lives, that they often masquerade as mere superstition to the untrained eye. But for those who live them—those whose days and destinies have been sculpted by these rituals—they are not superstition; they are science wrapped in mystery, prophecy woven into the fabric of daily existence.

I remember my mother telling me a story—one that, the more I ponder it, the more it reveals the stubborn intelligence of African ontology. She spoke of a man, a friend of hers, whose mornings bore a peculiar covenant with fortune. Each day, as he rose before the cock’s second crow to go to work, he carried in his heart one simple but unshakable wish: “May the first human I meet today be a woman.”

This was no casual hope. In the African worldview, the woman is not merely a person—she is a wellspring. She is the first market where life is traded from spirit to flesh. She is the dawn that breaks the night of nothingness. Meeting her first was not about gender—it was about meeting creation itself. And for this man, it meant meeting the very breath of prosperity before the sun had begun its march.

As the days passed, a strange consistency emerged: whenever his first encounter of the day was with a woman, his business thrived, his pockets grew heavy, and opportunities seemed to walk toward him uninvited. The correlation hardened into conviction. Soon, this was not chance—it was law. And from law, it became ritual.

But here lies the genius of African pragmatism: once a truth is tested, and found worthy, it is not left to the randomness of fate. It is insured. The man, unwilling to risk a day without his blessing, devised a masterstroke. He hired a housemaid—not merely for housework, but for destiny-work. Her tasks were humble: sweep, cook, tidy. But there was one sacred duty—rise before him, slip out through the back door, circle quietly to the front, and walk as if coming toward the house just as he stepped out. And there, like an oracle meeting a supplicant, they would lock eyes. The blessing would be sealed. The day would be made.

Some will call this superstition. The modern mind—trained in European rationalism—will dismiss it as quaint coincidence. But African epistemology teaches that truth is not merely what can be measured in laboratories; truth is also what repeats in the rhythm of lived experience. When something has worked for generations, when it has survived the crucible of time, when it has fed children and built homes, it graduates from “belief” to “truth.”

In our traditions, this is not strange. The Igbo say, “Nwanyi bu ife”—the woman is wealth. The Baganda say, “Omukazi bw’omusooka, olusuku lulima”—if a woman is the first you meet, the garden will yield. These are not romantic flukes; they are fragments of an ontology where life itself begins with the feminine principle.

What this man did was no different from the hunter who sharpens his spear before entering the forest, or the fisherman who reads the tides before casting his net. He simply understood that the world is not neutral—it speaks, it hints, it offers signals. And he chose to listen, and to act.

In the end, the real African truth here is this: fortune is rarely a stranger to those who court it deliberately. The one who waits for luck may wait a lifetime. The one who arranges for luck… meets her every morning at the gate.

Part two:

Introduction.

Let me add more layered philosophical treatise—linking it to Jungian archetypes, African spiritual cosmology, and modern behavioral psychology—to show why this “chance” phenomenon might actually have scientific legs. That would make it not just a story, but a thesis.

Discussion:

Meeting the Feminine at Dawn: An African Ontology of Fortune

1. The Story as a Seed of Truth

There is a reason African stories are not told as footnotes in history books—they are told as living things. The account of the man who believed his day’s fortune depended on meeting a woman first in the morning is more than a curiosity; it is a parable that opens the gates to deeper truths about how Africans understand existence, knowledge, and the mysterious mechanics of luck.

Here is the heart of the matter: he did not stumble upon this truth in a textbook or a seminar—it was lived knowledge, given flesh by experience, verified through repetition, and sanctified by personal conviction. Over time, the event ceased to be a coincidence and became a law of his life.

2. African Ontology: The Feminine as the Dawn of Being

In African thought, the feminine principle is not secondary—it is primordial. Creation myths across the continent—from the Dogon of Mali to the Baganda of Uganda—cast the feminine as the fertile ground into which the seeds of life are sown.

To meet a woman at dawn is, ontologically speaking, to meet the Source before encountering the day. Dawn is already liminal—half in night, half in day—and the feminine figure standing there becomes a symbolic “bridge” from the unseen world into the seen. The man was not merely meeting a human; he was stepping into the stream of life from its very fountainhead.

The Akan of Ghana say: “Aberewa na ɔma abɔfra akɔtɔ asomdwoe”—It is the elder woman who sends the child into peace. This echoes the deep African conviction that the feminine blesses, initiates, and stabilizes.

3. African Epistemology: How We Know What We Know

Epistemology in the African context is not confined to rationalist, empirical verification alone. Knowledge here has multiple witnesses:

Experience (I have seen it work repeatedly.)

Communal validation (Others have observed similar patterns.)

Spiritual resonance (The ancestors, dreams, or omens affirm it.)

This man’s belief passes all three tests. His repeated fortune after such encounters is experiential proof. His confidence is reinforced by African proverbs that link feminine encounters to prosperity. And spiritually, he interprets the meeting as a sign—an omen—that the day’s forces are aligned in his favour.

4. The Pragmatism of Ritual

One of Africa’s greatest intellectual strengths is pragmatic spiritualism. If something works, we do not simply marvel—we institutionalize it. The man hiring a maid to ensure the morning meeting was not foolishness; it was strategic ritual engineering.

The Swahili have a saying: “Bahati haiji mara mbili bila kuitwa”—Luck does not come twice without being summoned. The man understood this intuitively. By arranging for luck, he did what kings, farmers, and hunters have always done—created conditions for fortune rather than waiting passively for it.

5. Jungian Archetypes: The Anima and the Threshold

Carl Jung’s psychology speaks of the Anima—the feminine archetype in the male psyche that acts as a mediator between the conscious and the unconscious. Meeting a woman first in the morning may have activated, in him, a deep unconscious sense of completeness, readiness, and emotional balance.

Psychologically, this creates a self-fulfilling prophecy: starting the day with perceived blessing changes mood, confidence, and risk-taking behaviour—all of which improve chances of material gain.

6. Modern Behavioral Science: Why This May Actually Work

From a cognitive-behavioral perspective, rituals like this affect:

Mood regulation → Positive mood enhances performance.

Cognitive framing → You expect a good day, so you interpret events more positively.

Opportunity perception → The brain, primed for “luck,” notices and seizes chances others miss.

This is why gamblers, athletes, and even CEOs have “lucky charms.” What seems irrational often has psychological leverage.

7. The African Lesson: Luck is Made, Not Found

African wisdom does not leave prosperity to the chaos of fate. If a river brings fish at certain hours, we will be there at those hours. If a certain drumbeat summons rain, we will beat it. This man’s story is an allegory for a bigger African truth: Fortune follows those who prepare her seat.

Or as the Yoruba put it: “Ori bibe ko ni ogun ori fifo”—Shaving the head is no cure for headache. If you want change, you must act at the root. He did not just hope for luck—he placed her at his doorstep every dawn.

Closing

So let it be known: the man who waits for fortune to wander by will die of thirst beside the river. But the man who builds her a path to his door will drink every morning. In our land, we do not chase luck—we summon her.

As the elders say in Lusoga: “Omukisa gw’oyogerera gwidha nga guva wala” — The blessing you call by name will come, even from far away.

And so, he called her by name each dawn, and she answered—not as a stranger, but as a faithful wife to a faithful husband.

# Suigeneris