Why did I start this blog? #5
Chapter Two: Into the Desert
After her session my relative returned back home.
Armed with an audio CD of the Raqi's healing recitation as well as a daily spiritual cleansing practice. Everything would become better in time. Unfortunately that was not the case. She re-enters the story again.
As this was all unfolding I was in the process of completing my studies to become and English Teacher with the plan of joining my Aunt in Doha, Qatar. Who, at the time, was running an educational business out there.
This was the move to set me and my young family up for life.
The plan was to work out there for ten years and return with a serious stack of cash.
We were all excited at the idea of a new adventure.
We packed up our home.
Bought our tickets.
Said goodbye to our family and friends.
And got on a plane to Doha, Qatar.
Now what I didn't know at the time was that my auntie's husband had studied, trained and was practising Ruqyah (spiritual healing).
He had actually become quite well known in Qatar for this.
He would regularly go out to people to help. And people would also come to his home.
He did this for free which I found to be a beautiful thing as we personally knew of the financial strain regular treatment can cause.
So people would come over for treatment.
And I'd hear all sorts of crazy madness.
I'd take my son with me to our bedroom.
I didn't want to see any of that stuff again.
It just wasn't... nice.
And I didn't want my son around that kinda thing either.
But from what I could tell via the sounds that penetrated through my bedroom door...it sounded like he knew what he was doing. Quite impressive.
During this time we had heard that my relative wasn't doing so well.
The recommendations that were advised by the Raqi in England weren't really helping. She wasn't getting any better.
So it was suggested that she might as well come to Qatar as my auntie's husband could do the same thing we were paying money for and he seemed to be more effective.
(little did I know at the time but my criteria for "effective" was not correct but more on that later on)
So my relative and her mother flew out to Qatar and stayed with us.
You would think we were running a mental asylum.
I remember the first evening when my auntie's husband first recited over my relative.
I was sitting in my bedroom.
"You don't need me here...you guys got it.", I remember telling them.
There's no way that I wanted to see what I saw last time again. Traumatising.
But I could hear everything.
It was just like the sessions she had back in England.
Shouting.
Screaming.
Pleading.
Sounds of agony.
I'd come down after.
My relative looked fatigued.
Her mother looked concerned but accustomed to it.
I couldn't imagine seeing my child go through something like that.
This went on for days and days.
We'd think we made progress only to find that we hadn't.
It was actually quite frustrating.
My auntie's husband would ask me to join in and recite.
I had at the time memorised many parts of the Qur'an and was able to recite it fluently.
But I was like "na, this isn't my kinda thing. You carry on."
The truth is I was scared.
I didn't want anything to do with that world or whatever it was.
But he would constantly ask.
And I'd decline.
But one day he pulled me aside and advised me that there's nothing to be scared of because we have Allah and Allah is sufficient as a protector for us against these things and that I should learn how to perform Ruqyah so that I can help others.
That many are suffering out there that are unaware of this form of healing or if they are aware they may be unable to afford the treatment.
I think it was the idea of others suffering without access to help that tugged on my heart chords.
I had seen first hand what this suffering looked like.
So I agreed to at least sit with him and learn "the ways".
It wasn't too long before I completed my apprenticeship and would go to battle.
That day came sooner than I thought.
To be continued...
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