The voice- a true story of a guardian angel

At the end of a quiet road, behind a veil of twisted old palm trees, there was an old house. A woman lived there with her 3 children; her husband was in the political prison in Baghdad Iraq.

On bitter nights, she sat by the ala aldeen kerosene heater in her old house. She was making some home bread as it is cheaper for her, and she was washing clothes and ironing them as her side job to make money to survive in the unkind city of Baghdad at that time in the communist Shia backed government, just like the one we have now.

She did all her work and sent the kid to deliver the washed and ironed clothes to the neighbors and they can bring the money they gave, for them it was cheaper than the actual professional iron and laundry store, and to help this lady. She grew tired enough for sleep.

The children were fed lentil soup and fresh bread as they couldn’t afford meat or fruit. But on this night, as her eyes grew heavy, she was startled by a sound. Sound that she hadn’t heard before despite that she saw many phantoms and entities in her life. The sound was calling her name, Fatima, Fatima is enchanting voice 

 Who could be calling her name, she wondered? She rose from her old bed, and walked toward the sound in the dark part of the small house, and said in Arabic language, meno enta and shetreed? Who are you and what you want in this hour, and started praying and saying grace, with her long beads rosary.

Where are you, she asked?

“I’m here,” a deep well mannered voice said.

She was terrified and started calling God names and praying more, WHY, and “Who is this?” she asked angrily

while her hands were shaking to start the lantern as she didn’t have a flashlight, and the only electric light that were in the house was near the front door .she run to the kitchen and hold a knife in one hand and the lantern in other hand  screaming for help as loud as she could so hoping that someone outside can hear her as she was scared to go close to the door.

The children woke up and started to cry so she put them in the corner of the room and each hold a kitchen knife whatever they could find to help their mother and they put a second lantern to brighten the place, the little child 5 years old sneak slowly to the front door and turn on the light and ran back to his mother.

I turned on the light mom, now can we see who is this intruder? he said to his mom. That child was me.

My brother Samir was 9 years and my other brother Raad was 4. Our house was an old house and part of other houses beside it that the landlord gave to my mother with very low rent as goodwill as he used to know my father.

My mother started to walk slowly around the place toward the door to make sure if the front door was closed

She asked again, I am going to call the neighbors, who is it? But there was no answer.

Samir my older brother called someone from the neighborhood; they came and checked the place for any intruder

but there was no one in the place.

But we heard a man's voice too, we told the neighbor.

Maybe you were dreaming or something, no worry no one is here, the man told us

Then the man asked his son to bring us dinner, he thought maybe we were hungry and we saw things!

It was nice of them, they brought us rise and chicken with fruits and it was so nice.

Mother, maybe we should call the neighbor every night and tell them we saw a ghost so they can send us some food. I told my mom

My mother laughed, no son that’s not nice and it will be a lie, she replied.

“That doesn’t make sense,” she said. “How could we hear the voice inside our place?”

Maybe a ghost mother, Samir told my mom.

“Oh yeah, I guess that is possible.” My mother has many encounters in her life that she told us about later in life.

We went back to sleep, and my mom told us the day after that she woke up again to the same voice calling her name , still inside the house. My mother put the holy book on a small box. She lit a candle and put salt in front of the bedroom where all of us slept and was praying all night, that was Friday night.

My mother was tired in the morning, 

Next Friday the voice came back again, my mother was stronger and started to ask him if he could see us?

Yes I can see all of you, the voice reply?

Why us? We are very poor and love God, my mom said

That’s right I can feel that and I am very happy to hear that, he said.

Why are you here? My mother asked 

“There’s a bad spirit in your house.” The voice said to my mom

You mean you are the spirit, the ghost? how can I trust someone I can’t see? Mother answered

The shrine of abdel Qadir al jilani in Baghdad

“No I’m very serious, and I wasn’t mad at you or the kids but I was trying to get rid of this spirit of darkness away from this place , as he always torments poor people to give them despair , fear, and anxiety and to drive them crazy and away from God. He told my mother

You mean like the devil, she asked?

One of his followers and I want you to do the Roqeya prayers. He said

The Roqeya prayer is a special prayer from the holy book designed to get rid of evil entities and drive away any bad spirit, and burn any evil spirit after the reading is done and it has to be done multiple times.

The shrine of Abdul Qadir Al Jilani in Baghdad.

My mother knows the prayers very well so every day we all read after my mother it takes about one hour or more.

We do that after school, and sometimes 3 times a day.

After one week the voice came back and was so happy and told my mother that the bad spirit flue and left the house, since that time my mother always cleaned and cleansed the house with prayers.

Before the voice left my mother asked him how he knew, how long and how this evil spirit came to our house.

The answer given was that the evil spirit came with some clothing that my mother was contracted to clean and iron, Clothing? How can evil come with this? She asked.

The clothing belong to a man who killed his partner to take over the company that they were sharing and some 

of the dead man blood splashed on his clothes . The voice said.

Yes I remember a shirt and trouser that I was washing and I had to wash them over and over again to get rid of the stain then did the ironing. Mother said with an intriguing voice.

Am I in any danger? And how do you know that? Mother asked

Nothing to worry about just keep praying the evil entity was the one who could hurt you ,the killer will meet his fate 

He answered back.

I am Shikh Abdelqader, he answered

My mother was follower of his sect they call tarika and he was buried about one hour walk from our house, in a big famous shrine ,she was surprised, the answer was given to her as she said that because once a month she go to his grave , clean wash and sweep the inside of his grave and pray for him because he was pious imam , man of faith that lived over 854 years ago, he was well known of the qadiriyya tariqa school of Sufism. He was descended from the children of Prophet Mohammed. 

My mother was so happy when she heard that and continued to go to his grave and the large mosques in a well known area in Baghdad, clean and was his grave and she was one of few who had permission to do so at that time.

My mother told the neighbors that she is sick and she can’t wash clothes again , she was afraid of other evil attachments . After few years the police managed to capture the killer after sending an undercover police that worked in his company and collected many evidence to the case and he was convicted and later committed suicide as he was waiting for his trial. 

My dad was later released from prison and the new government took over and our life changed for the better , we moved to a new house and lived as a normal family. My mother passed away 1997 in Baghdad while I was working In Brunei in the Brunei royal jerudong park medical centre.

My father passed away in 2003 while I was working in North Alberta and both were buried in Baghdad .My brother Samir (Sam) passed away in the US -Las Vegas city as he used to work, 2001. The country now is taken by the Iranians thugs, killers and murderers along with the Iraqi Shia communists and hateful people who destroyed the country, killed and raped millions and helped all the terrorists, under the USA nose. The result is the killing of another brother in Baghdad by those thugs for no reason at all just because we don’t believe in their cult.

Since that time I believe that guardian angels don’t have to be an angel but it could be a person, life person, spirit of a dead person, a pet, or any other good spirit that you helped or pay attention to during your lifetime, and that Karma will always win in the end.

THE END

Thank you so much

Steve Ramsey, Alberta.