The Zohari

The Beginning of Visions and Recurring Dreams

You may see my story as fiction; what matters is that I will tell it to you, and you can judge for yourself. When I was 11 years old, I used to dream of things, and a short time later, I would see the dream's scenario repeat before my eyes in reality. But it wasn't very clear because in my dreams, I couldn't distinguish the characters, the place, or the manner. However, when an event would occur before my eyes, I would remember that I had dreamed of these events as if I had lived them. I would say to myself, "No, impossible, it's just my imagination." This happened to me many times.

The Dream of the Terrifying Night and the Onset of Paralysis

One day, I had dinner, finished my chores, and went to sleep. Before I laid my head on the pillow, my heart skipped three strong beats abnormally, as if it were going to stop. I kept holding my heart for about five minutes. Eventually, I recited the sleep supplications and fell asleep. That night, I dreamed of myself wearing a green robe, sleeping on a rock, surrounded by many people wearing black, but their faces were not visible. From afar, I saw a creature coming towards me with a small basket in its hand. I didn't know why, but the closer this creature got, the more my heart constricted and my breath shortened, until I opened my eyes to find my mother waking me up, saying, "Wake up, wake up, in the name of Allah upon you, my son."

I woke up in shock. My mother asked me, "What's wrong with you? What happened?" I didn't answer. She kept asking me to speak, and in my shock, I wanted to tell her it was nothing and that I just had a dream, but I couldn't open my mouth, as if it had been sewn shut. I felt very heavy and couldn't move, as if my weight had become 200 kilograms.

Doctors' Confusion and Parental Helplessness

My mother took me to the doctor the next day. The doctor said, "It's just a psychological shock that caused this condition. Give him these sedatives and he will improve." My mother continued giving me those medications, but to no avail; I felt like I was unconscious. My parents took me to another doctor, but they gave my mother the same diagnosis of shock.

My mother would reply to them, "Impossible, my son is always by my side. Who would shock him and how?" I could see my mother crying, and I wanted to hug her and tell her, "I'm fine, don't be afraid, I just had a dream and that's what caused this," but I couldn't say anything. I want to tell you something: since that dream, I didn't dream of anything else, and I stayed in this state for a whole year. They fed and hydrated me through an IV (serum).

The Second Dream and the 'Zohari' Diagnosis

Until a day came when I dreamed that I was flying in the sky being chased by many people. I was running away from them; they hit me, I hit them back, and I went back to escaping while they pursued me. I started taking them down one by one until Allah granted me success and I dropped them all. After that, I was flying happily, but I was flying without wings. I woke up suddenly at 6:00 AM. That day, a lady came to my mother and told her, "Your son is a 'Zohari' child, and what he suffers from is not a disease that doctors treat. Rather, those who will solve this problem are the spiritual clerics (Fuqaha). I know a capable person who will help your son heal."

My mother, out of her intense desire for my recovery, agreed immediately. The lady told her that this cleric was not in our city but in a small, isolated village in the Moroccan Rif, and that we must travel to Al Hoceima, then look for someone who owns mules or donkeys to take us to him.

Preparing for the Trip to Al Hoceima

My mother agreed and decided to travel that same week. I was lying in my room hearing everything; I had developed a superhuman hearing ability; even if they were talking very softly, I could hear them. My mother came into my room and said, "This week we will travel, and God willing, you will be better, my son." When my father returned in the evening, I heard my mother explaining the matter to him. He got angry and said, "Are you serious? Do you want to enter the world of sorcery? The boy is suffering from a psychological problem and God willing, he will improve." My mother replied insistently, "I will knock on any door, and if they asked me to throw myself from the roof for my son to heal, I would do it." They continued arguing until they fell silent.

Setting Off into the Unknown and the Suspicious Stop

I still remember, we traveled on Thursday; me, my mother, my father, and that lady whose identity and relationship with my mother I didn't know. My father didn't want my mother to go alone, so he decided to accompany us to see the end of this story. We set off from Casablanca to Al Hoceima. Throughout the way, complete silence dominated the car. My mother checked on me from time to time. At one point, my father stopped at a cafe to buy food and asked them if they wanted lunch. My mother refused, while the lady agreed. They went down to eat, as I was still living only on the IV.

As soon as we sat in that cafe, a waiter came to take our orders, and my heart began beating fast again, and I didn't know why. I felt that the waiter was looking at me, although he wasn't looking directly at me. I don't know how to explain it to you, but this is the truth. Anyway, the person who took our order wasn't the same one who brought the food; maybe it was just my imagination, I'm not sure. They ate and we continued our journey.

Arrival in Al Hoceima and Walking in the Dark

We arrived in Al Hoceima around 7:00 PM. In winter, it gets dark at 5:00, so it was nighttime. My father asked the lady, "How will we reach this man now? Shall we spend the night in a hotel and see tomorrow how to go to his village?" The lady refused and said, "No, we must go today. Whenever we arrive, we will find him waiting for us. These are the conditions the Faqih set; he told me: whenever you take the road, complete it, and at whatever time you arrive, you will find me waiting for you."

And that's what happened. We parked the car somewhere, my mother put me on a cart, and we began walking in the middle of agricultural lands and forests. Throughout the way, I would glimpse a shadow following us from the corner of my eye. Whenever I turned my eye to confirm what I saw, the shadow would stop. This shadow kept following us until the Faqih's house. We walked through those farmlands in pitch darkness, hearing only the barking of dogs, not knowing where we were going, just following that lady. We reached a certain place, and she said, "Okay, we will stay here for a while; some people will come to take us to the Faqih's house."

The Father's Doubts and the Sudden Appearance

Here, doubt began to creep into my father's mind, and he said to her, "Who are these people? And why didn't you tell us this before? Maybe you are highwaymen!" The lady replied, "I seek refuge in Allah from the devil! I only want to help your son because I feel sorry for him." My father answered her skeptically, "And why would you want to help him like this for the sake of Allah without asking for money or anything? This is impossible!" He turned to my mother, saying, "Let's go back, this doesn't make sense."

My mother got scared and agreed. As we were turning to go back, three men suddenly appeared riding donkeys and mules and said to us, "Welcome, the Faqih Mimouni is waiting for you." My father stood frozen in his place, not uttering a single word from the shock. We rode those animals and walked for about two hours in the middle of the forest. The closer we got to the Faqih's house, the larger that shadow following us grew. Finally, we arrived and found an old woman standing in front of the door. She welcomed us, saying, "Welcome, my children, come in." But I saw in her face a smile that I felt was full of malice, cunning, and evil... I didn't feel comfortable with this woman at all.