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When finally the depth of real sleep sucked me in, I found myself sitting on the floor of the sanctuary By Nhamo Muchagumisa Sagura's sanctuary was up a small hill between two walls of granite rocks that faced each other. The distance between the two walls was about four metres. The floor was littered with clay pots of various sizes, calabashes, ceremonial knives and wooden rods to name a few items. A small potion of the floor was reserved for a reed mat on which we played love as husband and wife. We had ceased playing in the bedroom. We went to the sanctuary twice a week to play and we only played during the day. He had two other wives and their share of his love was confined to their separate bedrooms. "I had a revelation that we should shift our love life to the sanctuary," he had said, "it is a way of enhancing the potency of my practice." Sagura's other wives were not allowed in the sanctuary. Their visits would desecrate it. My role in the sanctuary made me feel important, but it also made me feel a bit uneasy.