Cemetery Guard and Jinn Consolation

السلام عليكم ورحمة الله
My name is Hussein, and I am 60 years old now. Today, I will share with you my story with the jinn when I was a grave digger. It’s a story stranger than fiction, and I still remember the details to this day.

I opened my eyes to this life in an orphanage, not knowing my parents or having any family. It was a difficult childhood, sometimes harsh. I try to push all the memories out of my mind, but how can I, when they are part of my life? The thing that truly hurts is the absence of a parent's embrace. Although the women who took care of us tried to replace a mother's tenderness and a father's affection, nothing can replace that lost warmth, which never found its way to our hearts.

Whoever has both parents alive should know that they possess a great treasure and should cherish it. And whoever's parents have passed away should pray for mercy and forgiveness for them in every prayer.

But how did I become a grave digger? And how did I even enter this profession in the first place? When I turned 16, I decided to leave the orphanage. I wanted to pave my own way and test myself in the world, but reality turned out to be much harder than I had imagined.

No one is willing to lend a helping hand except for a few kind-hearted individuals, while most people look at you with contempt and disdain. I slept in public parks and ate from trash bins. I begged for just a dirham or two to satisfy my hunger. I tried to find work, but it was all in vain.

I found myself lost and confused in the giant, unforgiving city of Casablanca. In one of the markets, I helped vendors and buyers carry their goods in exchange for a few dirhams. I felt the meaning of hardship and tasted the bitterness of homelessness. Some of the homeless, around my age, were using drugs and engaging in theft and pickpocketing. They tried to drag me along with them, but I refused, despite having little to my name. I was certain that God would open a way for me to earn a living that would shelter me until death.

One day, a homeless man snatched a woman's purse and fled. The woman reported it to the police, and the next day, a crackdown began on the homeless in the neighborhood, as they were considered a threat to the residents. I saw plainclothes police officers arrest a friend of mine, even though he hadn't done anything. He was just asking people if they needed help carrying their belongings.

I ran a lot because I didn’t want the police to catch me. I fled the market and sprinted out of the neighborhood, rushing between the streets. The escape continued until I found myself outside the city when night fell. I stood in front of a wall, not knowing what was beyond it, and looked behind me, not knowing why, but I thought the police were chasing me.

I climbed the wall and then jumped to the other side, only to find myself inside a cemetery! A terrifying stillness, but it was a safe place for me. No one would find me here. I spread some cardboard between two graves, then lay down and slept without any fear. I slept until the heat of the sun woke me the next day. I didn’t know that this place, where I spent my night, would become the setting for a very strange story and events no one could have imagined. With his usual smile, he said, "Tomorrow, we’ll start early. I’ll begin teaching you the basics of this profession, so wake up early, pray your prayers, stay pure, and then join me." That night, I felt happy because God had allowed me to meet this good man who opened his house to me and treated me like his own son. I had no other option but to stay with him, as it was my fate, and let’s see what the days have in store for me. Gradually, I began learning from Uncle Abdullah, and within just a few weeks, I was assigned to take over his digging duties. I became known as the gravedigger, a profession that chose me rather than one I had chosen. After a year, Uncle Abdullah’s illness worsened, and he rarely left his house, so I became the one to support him and his daughter. Whatever money I earned, I shared with him, for he had done me a great favor, and his kindness was a debt I could never repay. One night, I knocked on Uncle Abdullah’s door, entered, and sat beside him after kissing his head. I had decided to tell him, even though I was nervous and didn’t know how to express myself. I was determined to ask for his daughter Rabia’s hand in marriage. I said, lowering my head, looking at the ground, feeling anxious about his reaction. He placed his hand gently on my shoulder and said, "We have only seen goodness from you. You are a hardworking young man with a good heart. I’ve loved you like a son. Congratulations." I bent down to kiss his hand, overwhelmed with joy and happiness. I married Rabia, and a new chapter of my life began. But the joy didn’t last, as only a few days later, Uncle Abdullah passed away. I was deeply saddened, as he had been like a father to me. As for his daughter Rabia, she went through a difficult period after his death, but it was his destined time, a moment that cannot be hurried or delayed. I dug his grave next to his wife’s, as he had instructed, and buried him with my own hands. This is the way of life, and we cannot oppose God’s will. Months passed, and everything was normal. I became the official caretaker of the cemetery and the gravedigger. Everything was going well, until that day that changed everything, the day I lived through the most terrifying night of my life, an event that is beyond belief. One morning, a man came to me holding a small bundle wrapped in a thick cover. He greeted me, and I responded, then asked, "Are you Mr. Hussein, the gravedigger?" I said, "Yes, that’s me. What’s the matter?" He told me he had a stillborn baby, one who was not meant to live. I said, "There is no power or strength except with God. Be patient and seek reward from God." The man composed himself, holding back his tears, and handed me the deceased baby. I noticed it was somewhat heavy. I uncovered it to see its face—subhanAllah, it was like the moon, very beautiful. I prepared a small grave, and together with the baby’s father, we prayed over him, then buried him in his small grave. Before leaving, the man gave me some money. The day passed normally. When I returned home, I found my wife Rabia was heavy with child; she was in her seventh month of pregnancy. We had our dinner, then the usual silence of the cemetery night took over. Suddenly, I began to hear the sound of women wailing and crying, coming from a distance, mixed with ululations. It frightened me, and I jumped out of my place and woke my wife. I asked her, "Do you hear what I hear?" She replied, "No, I don’t hear anything." I told her, "Listen carefully." She said, "Hussein, seek refuge in God from the Devil." I remained frozen, the sound of wailing and ululations still echoing. The next day, I began my work in the cemetery, my mind preoccupied with what I had heard the previous night. Later that afternoon, I felt a little tired and decided to sit for a while. I began to hear the sweetest bird song I had ever heard. It was so beautiful it soothed my ears. I turned around to see where the singing bird was coming from. I spotted it. It was small, with feathers as white as snow—something I had never seen before. It was perched on the headstone of the baby I had buried yesterday. I moved a little closer, and it didn’t fly away, despite how close I got. It started hopping around the grave, pecking at the ground. It was a very strange sight. I stood there, praising Allah, the Creator. That night, the sound of women crying resumed. It was an eerie and breath-stealing sound. This time, I didn’t ask my wife if she heard it, as I feared she would deny me again. So, I decided to leave the house and figure out where the sounds were coming from. I took a flashlight and left the house. It was close to midnight. I stood at the door of the house, and the sound was coming from the cemetery. Who were these women crying inside the cemetery? How did they get in? I walked among the graves, holding the flashlight, and as I walked closer, the sound grew louder. I hurried toward the new graves, and what I saw shocked me. I saw four women, veiled and dressed in black, gathered around the grave of the baby. One of them was ululating, while the others were crying loudly. I trembled with fear. What was I seeing? I took heavy steps toward them, but they made no movement. I wondered: were they relatives of this stillborn baby? What brought them here in the middle of the night? I stopped not far from them, then greeted them, saying, "Do you not know that visits are only for the daytime? How did you get in here?" Suddenly, the women fell silent and looked at me at the same time. All I could see were their eyes, which were strangely red and shining with tears. I swallowed hard.

You trembled with fear, and they were all kneeling. When I spoke to him, we stood up at the same time, but their figures were very tall. What is this unusual height? He didn't speak to me; we turned and walked with heavy steps between the graves, as they dragged their long black cloaks. I stayed in a state of shock for a few moments, then turned to go back home. I felt drops falling on me, so I looked up and saw that it was lightly raining. I hurried my steps to the house to avoid getting wet. I entered the house and saw my wife Rabiah asleep, unaware of the terror I had just experienced, the fear that nearly stopped my heart. Who would believe what I saw with my own eyes? I went to make ablution, then prayed what I could from the night prayer, hoping to regain my balance and calm my soul. Strangely, in the second rak'ah, when I greeted the prayer, I felt a peace and calmness that overtook me. I lay down near my prayer mat and fell into a deep sleep. My wife woke me up the next morning, and I opened my eyes with difficulty, feeling very tired. She asked me in surprise, "Why are you sleeping on the floor?" I looked at her without answering. She smiled and said, "Get up, breakfast is on the table." I began my day as usual in the cemetery, from one funeral to the next, from digging to filling the graves. Occasionally, my gaze would fall on the grave of the infant, and the events of the previous day lingered in my mind. Would those women return tonight? And if I heard their voices, should I go out to them or leave them alone? What secret lies behind this small grave? I went toward it to examine it and was shocked to find something new that hadn't been there the day before! Small white flowers had bloomed! How could they have grown so quickly? It was unbelievable! I touched the flowers with my hand, as though they had been planted just a few days ago. Could someone have planted them today without me noticing? I wanted to pick one of the flowers to see if it was planted today or if it had just grown, but as I moved to do so, I heard the sound of a funeral approaching with people calling out "Allahu Akbar" and praising. I stood up and walked toward it. The grave for the deceased was ready. In the afternoon, I went home for lunch, but the food wasn't ready yet. I asked Rabiah, and she seemed tired and anxious. I said to her, "What's wrong? How do you feel?" She told me, "Listen to our child." I put my ear to her belly; she was in her seventh month. I heard the cry of a small boy, the sound coming from inside her womb, from the middle of her stomach! I didn't understand what was happening! I had never heard of anything like this before, but it was certainly something extraordinary! I was stunned, but I managed to control myself and told Rabiah, "Don't tire yourself out; rest." I helped her to her bed, and then covered her. She looked at me with eyes filled with tears without saying a word. I closed the door behind her and sat in the hall, thinking about all the strange things I had been living through since the day I buried that infant. I prayed to God for kindness in the destiny He has written for me. I went back to the cemetery to continue my work until the sun set, locked the cemetery gate, carried my digging tools, and headed toward a nearby faucet to wash my hands and then make ablution. Darkness soon covered the area, and my steps were slow from exhaustion. I heard a movement, as if someone was walking near me! I looked to the right and left, but I didn't see anyone! What was this? Bismillah al-Rahman al-Rahim! I continued walking, and the sound moved very close to me! I felt like I touched something with my hand! I bent down to see a black goat lifting its head and looking at me while dragging something! I stepped back and started reciting protective prayers, then said, "I seek refuge with the perfect words of God from the evil of what He has created." What is this goat doing here? My voice trembled as I spoke, then I heard someone speak to me saying, "Do not be afraid, it is a dumb beast that will not harm you." I quickly turned behind me and saw an old woman sitting on one of the graves, looking at me. I asked her, "Who are you, and what are you doing here?" She replied, "I am grazing in the land of God." I continued staring at her appearance and listening to her words, which were full of symbols I couldn’t understand. She said, "Do not fear, I am not here to dig up graves or remove the remains of the dead; I came to drive this animal, and tonight is the night of the covenant. If you fulfill it, you will be saved, but if you break it, thorns will grow inside your wife's belly and her unborn child!" At that moment, I became speechless from the shock of what I was hearing! The old woman stood up from the grave and waved at the black goat, which ran between the graves and disappeared into the darkness. She came closer to me until she was right in front of me. She had a very strong smell and said, "I have not worn mourning clothes like this for more than 24 years, and I live a dignified life. I am from a lineage of the righteous jinn who believe in God, we do not wrong others, nor do we accept wrongdoing." I was trembling with terror, even though she told me she was a believer in God and did not harm anyone, my legs were about to give out from the fear. I thought of running, but I couldn't. I wanted to scream for help, but who would hear me? Everyone around me was dead, powerless to help! I said to her, "Between us is God and His law; I have not wronged you, so stay away from me!" She laughed, and her remaining teeth showed, revealing her to be an ancient woman, then said, "Let me finish my words, perhaps they will be of benefit to you." She continued, telling me she should have come dressed in black like her daughters, as it was a right for them. She then mentioned a story about her daughter, Suda, and the place where they lived. The jinn spoke of a house where a pious woman had once lived, a woman devoted to God, and Suda had stayed with her for years. And so the strange tale continued, until the woman left me with a chilling warning and vanished into the darkness