At the madrasa, I began to hit the little girls for the slightest things, and during classes, I would put my head down on the desk and sleep. When it was holiday time, I would wake up. My mother would talk to me, and I would argue with her a lot, which made her angry, and she stopped talking to me. When the doctor mentioned the tonsil operation, I thought I would get it done during the summer holidays.
On the first day of the school holiday, I felt like eating noodles. My brother brought me chicken noodles, but as soon as I started eating, my health deteriorated. This is where the real story begins. My father, brothers, and sisters were shocked that I was fine just moments ago. I was rushed to the emergency room, and I kept losing consciousness. The doctor put an IV drip on me and started administering chloroform to bring me back to consciousness. However, as soon as I regained consciousness, I would cry for my mother.
The doctor pressed the vein near my throat and asked what was wrong. I told him my mother was angry with me and to call her. So my brother went to fetch her. I told my father that I knew the first death in our house would be mine. I was crying and felt that I would die. I was looking at the ceiling, and at times, I would look at my toes, feeling an extreme chill inside me, like standing close to an air conditioner.
My mother and in-laws came to visit me at the hospital, and I was angry with them, pushing their hands away and demanding to see my mother. When she arrived, I held her hand and said, 'This is my mother, I have only one mother,' and immediately felt better. I removed the IV and thanked the doctor as I was leaving. Now, when I come home, everything is fine, but when I prepare to leave, my heart aches, and I can’t hear the sound of the azaan (call to prayer). I used to feel lost and would sleep holding my mother’s hand.
One day, my uncle came over and asked my sister to make lassi (a yogurt drink). He drank some and then gave it to me. As soon as I drank it, I vomited. My mother asked for another glass, and after drinking it again, I vomited again. In this way, I drank three glasses and vomited each time. My mother felt something was off but didn’t say anything. She mentioned taking me to the masjid (mosque) for a remedy.
I started crying, fearing I would die. She tried a remedy with eggs, but it didn’t work. One day, my mother told me we were going to my aunt’s house. I got ready, but we passed my aunt's house. I was surprised because we were supposed to go there. My mother said she was going to a friend's house. It was nearly time for the Maghrib (evening) prayer, and their gate was open. My mother laid me down on a charpoy (traditional bed) and asked me to see what was happening with me.
A lady known for her healing came, held my little finger, and whispered in my ear. I lost consciousness. What happened afterward was told to me by my mother. She said that the lady started praying Maghrib and then began to attend to me. One of her daughters joked that I smelled bad, and my mother replied that I was fat and no one would marry me. The lady then asked my older brother to come over, and he started questioning me.
One thing that only my husband and I knew was that I liked his nose, which nobody else knew. Yet I kept repeating, 'Waleed, Waleed,' calling my husband's name. I was already married, but we hadn’t had our wedding ceremony. The lady brought some items, made some offerings, and held my hair, swearing by Hazrat Sulayman (Prophet Solomon), and asked where I was coming from. I told her I was from a filthy street and admitted that a few days ago, I had killed a girl.
She asked if I was aware that the girl had died. I confirmed that I had been possessed for forty days, during which I wasn’t allowed to leave the house. A black hen was tied outside, and in the morning, they would throw the refuse into a trash bin, a black goat's head and feet were kept in the house, and they would make me touch it and then throw it away. I wore an amulet around my neck, which, if not removed, would take my life within three days as it had taken hold of my heart and was drinking my blood.
I had lost so much weight in that month. When my mother explained all this to me, it all began to make sense—my throat problems, my anger, and the fact that the jinn (spirit) was a non-Muslim who didn’t like lassi and chicken, which is why I would vomit after drinking it or eating chicken noodles.
When I chatted with my husband over messages, his phone started malfunctioning, which made me wonder how it happened. I remembered that both my sister and I were getting married, and my sister's in-laws had come to our house. Our house was filled with guests, and in the afternoon, both my sister and I were married. That night, we had a function. My sister and I got ready separately; I was ready early and arrived home at 8 PM. The house was dark, and when I knocked, no one opened the door. I was on the second floor, and when I waited, I felt scared as if someone was approaching. A breeze swept through, but I didn’t take it seriously.
While I was working in the kitchen, I would hear the sound of water spilling, or the stove making noise. I would sometimes feel someone standing behind me, and I would call out, 'What trouble is this? A person can't even make bread in peace.' Things would go missing all month, and then it happened three days ago after I had chicken noodles. When I would leave, my heart would ache because it was a sacred place, and the jinn was unclean and smelly. I didn’t even feel like taking a bath.
My aunt told me that it was good it happened after marriage; if it had happened before, it would have been harder to remove. Now, Alhamdulillah, I am fine, with three children, but my husband’s kidneys suddenly failed, and he is on dialysis. Please pray for my husband. My mother-in-law says that these problems were due to that incident, but only Allah knows best.
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