Warning: This article is not for the faint hearts.
When I was in Uni, one of my friends who had come to Mombasa for the first time to study, confessed to me about something. He told me of how he was warned of the Mombasa ladies. That sometimes you may be lured by a very beautiful lady only to find out she is a jinn (genie) lol. Well, I couldn’t agree to the statement but neither could I deny it. I very well knew how the upcountry folks tend to be scared whenever they visit Mombasa for the first time. The stories spread and so does the stereotype.
See Mombasa is by the sea which makes it natural that jinns will be more attracted to this part of the town. They love oceans and seas and that is basically their home. Nonetheless, culture and traditions of the ancestors of this area was such that, while some wanted to be as far away from the whole jinn issue, some when to the far extents of hunting them down and using them for witchcraft and personal agendas. Some were just victims while some sought them. And one other fact about Jinns is that they can be inherited in the family which led to generations after generations being innocently possessed.
Now for the scared-chicken me, fate has made it for me such that I have witnessed exorcism more than 5 times. The first time was when I was around 11 to 12 years old in primary school when one of the Muslim girls suddenly got possessed. It was an exam day so you can imagine half the excitement of postponement of my exam at the same time, fear and sympathy for the girl. The school I was in was a Christian school so the Christian teachers together with the director took their bibles and off they started the prayers. The doors to the room were closed and so were the windows so we couldn’t see anything inside. For almost one hour, we could their loud prayers, some commotion inside, more volume and more volume again until that door finally opened. Before I could understand what exactly was happening, my IRE teacher summoned the few Muslims in the school asking for those who could recite qur’an. Apparently, everyone was looking at me; the 12 year old me to go do exorcism to a fellow kid. Right now, thinking about it, I realize how much danger our teacher put us into. Nonetheless, we still went. The girl’s brother, my teacher and I. Upon entering, the Christian teachers left with the look like, “she is all yours.”
The girl didn’t have her head scarf on. Her long hair was so messed up. She was pacing around the room like it was her ego that had taken over; walking arrogantly across like a boss. So I started reciting surat Yasin. I had no idea what I was doing. I didn’t know what surah was to be read but I still went on with the surah with her brother and my teacher following along. The girl was laughing at us, mocking us, insulting us; we were being useless. She wasn’t feeling anything. And for once I felt how really small I was. By the time I was done with Yasin and there was no improvement, I remembered surat Jinn and this is when things started getting wild. She was yelling, screaming in pain. I was shaking now, my hands too cold. There was nothing heroic about this; just shudders of fear. After some verses, she was holding my knees. Don’t even ask me how she got there but she was; holding my knees begging me to read louder because, “He is there. I can see him” pointing somewhere above our heads. It was terrifying and my knees wobbled. I almost thought i’d either pee on myself or faint in the process. She then quieted down. My teacher rushed to give her a glass of water and check if she recognizes herself and the people around. Somehow, with time, I was able to get over it but that was never the end of the exorcism sessions I had to attend.
In uni, one of my mates had the same issue and time to time we would have to do the exorcism on her despite knowing that it should be done by experts only. But then within the past few days, I came across far worse case scenarios I had never seen.
In Islam, (for those who don’t know about this) we have our traditional medicine and treatments called ruqya, and despite this being the original and the best medical way to deal with ailments especially the complicated unexplainable ones, we always tend to keep this to be the last option. Ruqya is commonly known for treatment of witchcraft, exorcism, hasad and 3ayn (disastrous envy) but also for normal ailments that could do just good with some herbals and holy treatment.This is the place you go when no scan is telling what is wrong with you. When you see the doctor and he has to call a mini-meeting to discuss what could be wrong with you and they just end up giving you speculations. This is the place you go when doctors and people ask you, “maybe it’s all in your head? Maybe you are just imagining being sick.” This is the place you go when you have lost hope and finally realize only religious treatment will help you.
My sister and I entered the room which was somewhat full with other Muslim ladies. We went to the front rows, sat quietly waiting just like the rest. When the sheikh finally started reciting, slowly I could hear voices behind me and beside me. Someone was crying, almost wimping, another was laughing in a mock. The one in front of me started stretching her hands, moving her head vigorously from left to right, beside us was another who was now groaning like a lion. Right behind me, the young lady was twisting and turning in pain. And I was there, right at the middle of it all, all seeming like a zombie apocalypse horror movie and everyone was getting infected and I was definitely the next. The screams were getting into my head, the cries, the shouts and my hands were already getting cold. Half the time I was holding my sister’s hand and the other half I was hugging myself, head bowed down. I didn’t want to look but hearing the voices only is way worse. So I get glimpsing around me and it was like someone was trying to drown me. My head being shoved in cold water, pulled out, before being shoved right back. There is a lot of sympathy, empathy, confusion and chaos. I almost walked out right at the middle of it because there you are and you see people having literal fights with the unseen. Someone is twisting like she has no bones, another is groaning like she is about to puke, another is shouting, ‘sitokii!!’ (leave me alone) or ‘uskut’ (Keep quiet!), another is half-crying half-laughing, another is holding her head while crying out in pain, another is screaming like a banshee while another is moving about intensely like she is dancing some zumba.
For the first time I was so scared of my own self, too tensed up because you don’t even have an idea what is wrong with you or even what is your situation exactly. I kept checking on my sister and whenever she’d just move a bit i’d get worried until after confirmation that she is okay. I was trying too to not bulge even an inch because my own restlessness was making me worry. So I wanted to convince myself that nothing is wrong and that nothing is wrong with my sister. But then keeping still is almost impossible too. When the one in front started reacting we had to move back a little bit, when the one behind was writhing in pain on the floor, we had to move forward again. I was terrified, shocked and perhaps it was too much for me to see several people ache loudly like that all at once. By the second day end of it all, a lady was still crying while talking in arabic, “Khaliny. Khaliny anta lasta 3unuky” (Leave me! Leave me you are not my neck) while struggling with her neck like she was being strangled. And that’s when I had had enough. I broke down.
I cried at the difficulty of the situation. At how hard it can be for someone to be their own enemy. At how your ailment is something inside you and you can barely do anything about it. I cried at how we really take it lightly how much these people suffer. But then this is way worse than malaria or even diabetics. This is someone inside you who was sent on a mission to destroy you. Someone who is trying to steal your identity, your happiness, your comfort and worst of all, you are the only one who can see it. Someone who can totally take control of your soul, make you do things or harm yourself and others without even knowing it. This is perhaps one of the biggest tests anyone can have. And even while watching the emotional mess, I wanted to disappear right into the wall beside me. It’s not a sight for someone with empathy issues or even crying-an-entire-bucket issues. I believe that the victims are very strong people and I just hope Allah makes it easy for them and pays them abundantly for their patience.
Perhaps this is why we keep being told that whenever we feel we are in difficult situations, we should look at those in worse scenarios than us and thank God anyway. Nonetheless, the religion has always been complete. We have to take these things seriously and recite the duas for the morning and evening sessions. We have to protect ourselves and our children. We have to teach them the duas before going into the washrooms and after, before eating and after, before leaving home and after…We have to ask for Allah’s protection when going to the beaches and new places. We have to read and listen to qur’an more often but more importantly, we have to listen to the ruqya verses more often. Trust me, it is worth it. The way people talk of possessed victims like it is an ordinary and ‘normal’ thing, is quite underrated. They suffer and they need our support, love and care. They need you now more than ever. They need your sincere prayers.
Besides all these dark spirits (which is mostly not everyone’s fault), Mombasa is a beautiful place of it’s own kind. Stereotyping generalizes it way more than it really is. The victims are sick and trust me, they do not like it just like you. Do not be afraid of them or stigmatize them. God is surely for us all.
To end this, below is a ruqya video that is good for you. Make time to listen to the video at least once everyday and let your family listen too. You can always download more videos and audios from the internet. https://youtu.be/oEgZT9cJ4lY (This is different from the one below)
May Allah have mercy on us, protect us and our families from all evil. Ameen.
There are 8 kinds of women you almost never miss in a Swahili/Mombasa wedding:
1. The epitome of beauty: The most beautiful lady in the room. You would almost confuse her to be the bride. She is gorgeous and she knows it. Make-up done perfectly with a Cinderella gown that makes her the princess of the night. She walks gracefully, head held high, appears in the dance floor, interact and doesn’t miss out in the photos.
2. Selfieeee: You will never miss a selfie freak. Always taking photos from the moment they step at the hall door, to when they are walking, seated, dancing, eating, all poses you can think off. She could have 50 photos of just a single evening.
3. Make-up gone soo wrong: The kind of lady who makes you question whether you are too ignorant about make-up or she really looks the way you see her. You question her brain, her mirror, her friends, her family, the entire humanity who walked right by her and never said a word. Not even, “honey, I think some water on your face will do you good.”?!!
4. Always the dancer: She is the great dancer. She knows her moves well and all songs can be danced even the one you would just sit and have your hand hold your chin? Yeah, that song too. She can dance it. So of course, you never miss her being in the dance floor.
5. Fashion police: The keen eyes scrutinizing what everyone is wearing, what colour, which jewelry, what they should have done differently and what would match best with what. Plus they never miss someone to discuss the fashion NO-NO’s with at the wedding.
6. Family-tree narrator: This is the historian. “See the lady in blue? she is the daughter of the woman in green. The woman in green is the step-cousin to your late mother. And your late mother had a great step-grandmother; she is the old lady talking to the young lady. The young lady is your step aunt” bla bla bla… They know most people in the wedding. They can connect the dots of family lineage back to your ancestors.
7. God! I_AM_BORED woman: She is mostly at the event because she has no choice. She is just staring at people, rarely interacting at all, appreciates the food being served, has a faint smile on her face and the moment the bride sits on the stage, she is gone!
8.The psycho kind of writer ME:The moment she takes a seat, she starts eating. She wants to get done with it already and forget about food. Next she is in pauses between chronic texting syndrome and staring at people silently like a serial killer and psychopath studying her victims. She looks at people like story materials and study expressions, impressions, abbreviations you name it 😀 She stares at the corner of the eyes of the bride trying to find tears, study body language and think of all the story ideas she can get from one event. There is no selfie taken at all because she is the same way you’d see her on the street buying tomatoes. She can’t interact much because hey! ‘I am just from greeting someone across the hall. I can’t dare do that again. Too much attention.’ She is always looking around just in case she sees a familiar face or an old friend. Not that she will walk to go say hi, rather she’ll just wave and plaster a big smile like, ‘if only you were closer i’d give you a hug.’ You know, Mombasa weddings are partly re-unions, everyone knows everyone sorta thing. She looks confused and lost. All people are going to take photos with the bride she is still seated at the far end row alone with empty seats beside and around her. She is trying to dissect the song lines and read between the lines and sometimes question the sanity of the singers with very cheesy lines. She waits until the bride is walking right beside her so that she can hug her and congratulate her. Then hurrah! ‘I think I just got something to write about from this.’ 😀 Okay I know I am bizarre and weird but at least you got something to read today! 😉 Have a blessed weekend lovely people 😀
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Anavyojua yeye, magari yakigongana yote huharibika na safari husimama kwa muda. Lakini mbona la mwenzake liliondoka palepale? Mbona halikuhitaji ukarabati? Ama ilikuwa ajali ya kupangwa? Haya ndio baadhi tu ya maswali yaliokuwa yakimgonga kichwani. Aliketi kitandani akaangua kicheko. Aliucheka moyo wake kwa kuvunjwa mara kwa mara lakini haukomi. Mara akanuna. Aucheke moyo wake au ajicheke yeye?
Alikuwa kinyume na jina lake. Sudi hakuwa na bahati Katika ulingo wa mapenzi . Alibaki kusikia kutoka kwa simulizi za watu utamu wa mapenzi, ila kwake hayakuwa tofauti na subili. Alimeza funda la mate mazito kwa uchungu mno. Afanye nini aupoteze uchungu uliomvaa? Kipi afanye ili moyo uwe huru? Nani wa kumsikiza amlilie? Alimtafuta wa kumuauni na kumpa faraja wakati ule akose.
Alimkumbuka mpenziwe Fatuma Baraka na ahadi teletele walizowekeana. Alikumbuka nyakati nyingi alivyojitahidi kumfurahisha nana ila jitihada haziondoi kudura. Alihisi kusalitiwa na mtu aliemuamini. Sasa ni yupi wa kuaminiwa tena? Ama kweli kutendwa ni kubaya. Alitamani ardhi ipasuke immeze mzima mzima. Alihisi huu ndio mwisho wa uhai ila alijipa matumaini “Mungu huleta sahau .” Ila swali ibuka ni : lini itakuja sahau? Lini atamsahau kimwana? Vipi aweze kumsahau Fatuma wakati hata kichupa cha marashu kilimkubusha mwanamke yule wa shani?
Alikitupa kichupa kile cha marashi maana kila akikinusa alimkumbuka asietaka kumkumbuka. Kwenda kununua chengine pia alishindwa,maana hakuna wa kumpeleka kumsaidia kuchagua kama zamani. Hii ni tamati ya kila kitu katika aushi. Alijitupa kitandani na kutuliza bongo lake kwa makini ili apate usingizi lakini lepe alilolitarajia halikuja ila mawazo ya bimkubwa yalimjia moja baada ya nyengine. “Sie huyu alieniahidi kutoniacha?” “Huyu kijana ‘A’ ni nani kwani na ni kipi kilichomvutia nyongo mkalia ini? Ama kweli Audi sina sudi “
Kawaida ya moyo ukifikiwa na mazito huongea kwa kutoa machozi lakini moyo wake ulikuwa bubu uliongea kwa Ishara. Ghafla akatabasamu. Bahari ina samaki wengi tafi, tangu,una,kiboma an wengine wengi ila yeye alipenda simsim pamoja na udogo wao. Lakini walipomdunga kwa miba yao alisusia samaki, alisusia mpaka pweza wasio na mwiba. Alibughudhiwa kwa mandhari yao ila alijiona huru kabisa.
Baada ya kurudishiwa moyo wake jioni ile,hakurudi nyumbani. Alipitia kwa mpiga chapa, akatoa nakala kadha wa kadha za moyo wake ili Kama atapenda tena atapeana nakala hatopeana moyo wake.
Mtaa mzima ulipata habari ya yale yaliyotokea na mamake Khamisi alikuwa mmoja kati ya waliokuwa wakimtafuta Khamisi. Maafisa wa usalama walifika kwenye eneo la tukio, wakauburuza mwili wa marehemu hadi katika gari walilokuja nalo na kuupakia mwili kama vile wamo boharini. Wakakaa kidogo na kujifanya kuuliza maswali wale waliokuwa katika eneo, huku wakitikisa vichwa vyao tu, kama kuonyesha kuwa wanajali sana majibu yaliyokuwa yakitolewa. Kisha hao wakatia gari moto na kuchomoka na maiti.
Mamake Khamisi baada ya kumtafuta kwa muda na kiza kikawa kinaingia bila ya mafanikio yeyote, hakujua afanye nini. Hakuweza kukubali matukio yaliyotokea siku ile, cha zaidi aliomba tu! Siku ingeanza upya, huku machozi yakimdondoka bila kilio chochote. Alikuwa amechoka sana lakini alijiburuta, akaingia jikoni na kujitengenezea kikombe cha chai, mdogo wake Khamisi alikuwa amelala asijue lilotokea. Aliporudi kukaa, alijiuliza Khamisi atakuwa ametokomea wapi. Na wakati ule ilimjia kuwa Khamisi alikimbia na panga mkononi, hivi atakuwa amemwaga damu zaidi huko alikokimbilia au na yeye kapata mbabe aliyemmalizia mbali. Akaanza kugeuka huku na huku, jasho likimtoka, alikumbuka kuwa Khamisi ndiye mwana aliyemtegemea wakumshusha mzigo wa kumlea mdogo wake. Lakini kwa jinsi mambo yalivyotokea, na picha iliyobaki ni aidha Khamisi atauwawa na wanakijiji au aishilie jela milele kwa mauaji ya ami yake. Ndoto zote alizokuwa nazo juu ya mtoto wako zilianza kufifia moja baada ya nyingine. Katika hali ile ya kufikiria na kujilaumu kwa masaibu yake, afua ya Maulana ilimjia na usingizi ukamchukua na kulala chali kama kitoto licha ya masaibu yote.
Mamake Khamisi alipofungua mlango alimwona Bi Sofia amesimama huku amefungata mdomo wake kwa kiganja chake. Maneno yakimtoka kwa kigugumizi “ Ah! Ahhh!, mwenzangu, Innalilahi… waina ilayhi rajiun, sote ni wa Mungu tunaelekea huko huko” alisema kwa masikitiko Bi Sofia. Lakini mamake Khamisi alikuwa kachanganyikiwa, kwa kweli hakujua anamuongelea nani haswa. “ Hivi bibiye nikuulize, nani katuacha haswa?” aliuliza mamake Khamisi. “Hivi huna habari kabisa mwenzangu, mwanao Khamisi amepatikana pwani huko na wavuvi walioingia alfajiri ya kwanza, kajinyonga kwenye mti ufukweni” Bi Sofia akasema. Hata kabla ya kumaliza maneno yake, mamake Khamisi aliishiwa na nguvu, miguu yake ilishindwa kumueka tisti na akadondoka hadi sakafuni.
Fahamu zilimrudia mamake Khamisi na alikuwa tayari anafarijiwa na wenzake. Uani, majamvi yalikuwa teyari yametandikwa, ile hali ya ‘umatanga’ ilikuwa imeshafika katika nyumba ya mamake Khamisi. Watu walikuwa nao wanamiminika pole pole. Kuna wale waliokuja kutoa pole na kuenda zao na wale walioeka kambi mpaka shughuli nzima itakapomalizika.
Kati ya waombolezaji wale, alitokeo mvuvi mmoja na kumkabidhi Bi Sofia karatasi na kumpa maagizo ampe mamake Khamisi. Karatasi ile ilikuwa ni waraka uliokuwa umeandikwa na Khamisi kabla ya mauti yake, bila kusita mamake Khamisi alifungua na kusoma barua ile ya dhiki japokuwa alikuwa na hamu nayo…” Utakapo soma barua hii mamangu mpendwa itakuwa tayari nimekufa, na la zaidi ungetamani niwe hai ili upate majibu kwa yale niliyoyafanya. Lakini sijutii lolote kwa walimwengu, ila ninahofia Mola wangu atanipokea vipi?. Kukujibu na kukuondeshea makiwa nilifanya hayo yote ili mamangu mzazi uweze kurithi kile alichoacha babangu mzazi, Nishamuondoa nduli aliyezuia haya yote. Nataraji utapata nafasi katika moyo wako na kunisamehe na kama hamna nafasi hiyo, tafadhali niombe kwa Maulana ninapoanza hii safari yangu ya ‘mbinguni’…..
Fujo ziliendelea mle ndani, kweli mapambano yalikuwa yamechacha vyombo vilisikika vikianguka. Watu nao nje hamu na hamumu ziliwazidi kila mayoye yalipozidi. Waliamua wasingeweza kukosa uhondo wote huo, maana milango na madirisha yalikuwa yamefungwa yote na hawakupata kuona lolote. Jagina moja likatokea ili ‘kutafuta suluhu’ na kusukuma watu nyuma, akaanza kuonesha madoido kwa kukaza misuli yake ya mikononi. Watu walimshangilia na kumtia mori, akajawa na ushujaa akaja mbio kwa fujo, na kupita na mlango wa nje kwa bega lake. Naye kweli alikuwa na nguvuze, ule mlango kuuvunja kwa kishindo kimoja ni jambo la kupewa kongole kwa kazi nzuri aliyoifanya. Naye ‘ushujaa’ ule ulikuja na gharama alianguka kwa kishindo ukumbini na kujipiga na meza. Maskini ya Mungu! Alilia kama kitoto kidogo, bega lilikuwa khalas! tayari lilikuwa limevunjika.
Watu wakaanza kumiminika kuingia mle ndani, hata hawakudiriki kumpa usaidizi wa kwanza ‘shujaa’ wao aliyewavunjia mlango. Walimuacha akigaragara chini na kumruka bila hata ya kumjali na lolote. Punde si punde kila mtu alionekana akikimbilia kutoka nje. Mlango ukageuka ‘mdogo’ watu waliparamiana na kusukumana ili wapate nafasi ya kuregea walipotokea. Vilio viliskika tu sana kwa wingi,na wale waliokuwa nje walishindwa kwa nini wenzi wao wanaregea tena kwa kishindo. “Anakuja tayari kashamaliza huko ndani!”
Kila mtu roho mkononi, kwa mda wa sekunde chache kimya kilitalawa sehemu yote, kama vile wakati ulikuwa umesimamishwa na hakuna kilichosonga. Mara ghafla! Bwanamkubwa Khamisi alichopoka na panga likiwa mkononi, nguo zake zilikuwa zimelowa damu ajabu. Lo! Lile panga lilivyokuwa likitiririka ngeu…..Mmmmhh! kweli asiyekuwa na macho haambiwi tazama. Kwani kuna la zaidi l kuambiwa! Kila mtu tayari alipata picha kamili ya tukio lilojiri. Na kilichobaki ilikuwa mguu niponye, waliokuwa mbele ya tukio walianza kutawanyika na kusambaratika wakielekea kila upande. Walimpa Khamisi njia, utadhani rais keshaingia mjini, hakuna aliyedhubutu kujifanya shujaa….ili iweje? Kwa kasi ile aliyokuwa akikimbia nayo Khamisi, hakuna ambaye angeweza kumkamata au kudhubutu kumzuia.
Khamisi alitokomea baada ya kupiga vichochoro kadha na kuacha vilio nyuma! Mwili wa ami yake Khamisi alikuwa amelala kifudifudi katika ‘kidimbwi’ cha damu, mwili wake alikuwa amechanjwa chanjwa kwa panga. Teyari mtu keshaenda jongomeo, mwenye roho nyepesi asingeweza kumudu kuangalia mwili ule. Unyama ulioje ule, kila aliyetoka mle ndani alikuwa ameshika kichwa na kuonyesha hali ya kutamaushwa na tukio lile. Mamake Khamisi aligaragara chinina kupiga mayowe, alitoa leso yake na kuanza kuichanachana kwa uchungu. Jirani zake walijaribu kumuauni, lakini wapi waliambulia patupu. Hakuamini katu kisa alichokifanya mwanawe…”Laana gani umeniachia babake Khamisi? Mbona mimi tu” aliomboleza mamake Khamisi kwa fujo, huku machozi yakimdondoka kwa wingi. “ Mama utakufuru Mungu sasa! Ebu! Jitande kwanza na umuogope Mungu” mmoja wa jirani zake alijaribu kumsemesha apunguze maombolezo yake asije akavuka mipaka. Kwa kweli ya Mungu ni mengi, hakuna yeyote aliyedhania matukio kama haya yangetokea, siku ilianza kwa uzuri na utulivu, na jinsi ilivyopinduka kwa ghafla! Kwa muda wote ule watu wakiponda jinsi ya kufanya, kila mtu alijiuliza “ Je Khamisi yuko wapi?……………..