Desolation, Episode One

Have you ever felt like the world spins around you? That the fabric of the Universe itself bends to your Fears, Needs and Wishes?

The following scraps of memory have been laid on paper on a very short notice. I apologize for any incertitudes that may result from it. But I feel like I have -or at least try- to explain what monstrous...things I have witnessed...or at least I think I witnessed, on the night of the 23rd of May, 2002.
I feel like I might lose the last patch of sanity that I possess...or worse.

I shall start from the beginning. For this is how the end began:

My name is Victor Druchenski, I am an anthropologist. By the time the following events would unfold, I had just graduated from the cultural and social anthropology wing of the Historic University of Arkham.
After I finished my studies, I managed to get in touch with a charitable group of volunteers whose main goal was to help the poor indigenous tribes of north Africa to adapt to the modern civilization.
I told them that I was willing to join them because I was interested in the traditional African culture and customs, I was told that I was free to do my research... as long as I could also contribute to the cultural assimilation plan.
I must admit that I had little to no concern for the actual project, my opinion always being that, as long as civilization accepted them, it was their choice to adapt or not, and no project could change this.

My true intent was to find and interrogate a Nubian shaman by the name of Abdul Almhazad.

Word that the Shaman is in the possession of some unidentified, ancient looking artefacts got to me from a Christian preacher working with one of the Nubian tribes...
At least this is what I have heard from his friends and family after long Inquiries around numerous historian hotspots around the state. I tried to talk to the man in person but I found out that he was "Unavailable".

I did not know at the time...but the man was insane, and his relatives only told me part of what the poor soul confessed to them in one of his regular, bone-chilling seizures. He was sent home into arrest from Africa after he brutally murdered two of his companions. Apparently, in a fit of hellish madness he gouged out the eyes of both his colleagues; He then proceeded to insert the wrong set of eyes back into their sockets. He was found in a puddle of blood, shaking and mumbling something about how his victims were "Blind" and "Couldn't see the truth as it laid in front of them".
Peculiar as it was, I was intrigued.

As I embarked upon the cargo ship that was to carry me to the far Egyptian Port of Safaga, a heavy-set and rather pale looking woman stopped me and handed me a leather bound Journal. She said that it might prove useful to me, and that she would be relieved if she got rid of it anyway.
The journal, it turns out was the preacher's, the woman was his wife... She was strangled by her raging husband a couple of months later, while she was visiting him... The man was later sentenced to death himself.