Angola Prophet Elijah’s 9-year fast has captivated global faith circles, as the self-proclaimed visionary emerges from seclusion after sustaining himself solely on water since 2016, vowing to extend his spiritual marathon until 2056 in a testament to divine endurance that blends biblical echoes with modern miracle claims.
In 2016, whispers first drew attention to Elijah Mbundu, a 52-year-old former fisherman from the coastal town of Benguela, in Angola’s evangelical undercurrents.
What began as a 40-day Lenten pledge, inspired by the Old Testament prophet who outran chariots on Mount Carmel, morphed into an unrelenting odyssey.
“God called me to mirror His sustenance for the Israelites in the wilderness,” Mbundu shared in a rare sit-down with local broadcaster TPA this week, his frame lean but eyes sharp as polished obsidian.
Sipping from a clay jug under the shade of a baobab tree, he recounted visions of locust plagues and manna falls that propelled him forward.
Nine years on, with no solid food crossing his lips, medical sceptics scratch their heads while followers flock, dubbing him “O Profeta da Água Eterna”.
The story broke wide on social media Tuesday, when a grainy video from his makeshift prayer hut in Huambo Province hit Instagram Reels, showing Mbundu leading a dawn chant with dozens of devotees.
“He’s planning to fast till 2056,” the caption read, tying his endpoint to a prophetic calendar marking Angola’s centennial independence vibes and a personal revelation of global revival.
“Angola Prophet Elijah’s 9-year fast isn’t hype; it’s holy grit,” posted one viral user from Luanda, her clip netting shares from Portuguese expats nostalgic for colonial ties.
By Wednesday, Portuguese language outlets like Jornal de Angola ran front-page spreads, interviewing neighbours who swear they’ve seen him thrive on prayer alone, his skin glowing without the toll of malnutrition.
Mbundu’s path wasn’t paved in gold. Born into a Catholic family amid Angola’s post-civil war scars, he ditched nets for the pulpit after a 2014 fishing mishap left him adrift for days, hallucinating seraphim in the Atlantic swells.
“Water became my communion,” he told TPA’s roving reporter, palms scarred from years hauling sardines. His ministry, a ramshackle tent revival called Água Viva Fellowship, now draws 200 souls weekly, blending Pentecostal fire with indigenous herbal lore.
No tithes demanded, just shared streams from nearby wells symbolising his vow. Doctors at Benguela General Hospital, who poked and prodded during a 2023 checkup, marvelled at his vitals: steady heartbeat, clear cognition, though they warn of hidden risks like electrolyte dips or organ strain.
“It’s unprecedented, bordering on the impossible,” admitted a nutritionist who consulted pro bono. “But faith defies lab coats sometimes.”
Critics, though, aren’t buying the elixir. Rationalist forums on Reddit buzz with threads dissecting his claims as breatharian bunk, akin to those Indian yogis who court fame with air diets.
“Nine years? Show the bloodwork,” challenged one Luanda sceptic, sparking debates on colonial echoes of saintly stunts. Angola’s Catholic bishops stayed mum, but evangelical peers like Pastor João from Lubango hailed it as “a sign for our drought-plagued lands,” tying it to climate woes parching the Cunene River.
Mbundu’s endgame? A 2056 gathering in Luanda’s cathedral square, where he envisions breaking fast with a nation renewed, droughts ended, and youth hooked on gospel over ganja.















