Real Black Magic Stories: The Housemaid’s Revenge

Samir Aunty does not believe in these things, and that is what makes this one of the most disturbing real black magic stories I have ever heard. She told me what happened to her family herself, and I am writing it down as closely as I can the way she told it.

A House Full of Servants

After her mother-in-law and father-in-law passed away, nobody lived in that big house except the two of them, Aunty and her husband. It stood on two kanals of land, and it was full of staff. The family was very wealthy. There was a guard at the gate, and two guards in all, each doing a twelve-hour shift. The household staff came in the morning and left in the evening after finishing their work. Aunty and her husband never had to do any work of their own or face any hardship. Everything was going well.

Then one day, the house was robbed. Five masked men came in, tied them up with rope, and took everything they could find. The household staff had already gone home for the day, so only Aunty and her husband were in the house. The robbers tied up the guard at the gate first, then broke down the door right in front of them. Aunty believed the robbers had planned it all in advance. At the time she was six months pregnant. After such an ordeal she was not just frightened, she began to suffer from depression.

She decided to stay at her parents’ house for a while. She felt better there, and when she felt well enough, she came back. As soon as she returned, she asked her husband whether the robbers had been caught. “Not yet,” he said. “The police are still searching, but there is no clue.” Aunty said she thought one of their own employees might be involved. Her husband asked how she could say that.

“Look at the timing,” she said. “When the robbery happened, our staff inside the house were not there. That cannot be a coincidence. And look at the guard outside. He let those robbers in without any resistance. How is that possible?”

She called the guard in front of her husband and asked him a few questions, and he began to panic. “Why didn’t you stop them that day?” she asked. Stammering, he said, “I had no weapon, madam. They had knives, spears, so many things. I just could not.” Because he panicked, Aunty told her husband, “Dismiss him right now. I am a hundred percent sure he was with the robbers.” Her husband was not very convinced, but for his wife’s sake he sent the man away. The next day they hired a new guard. Aunty felt they were finally on the right path. A disloyal person is worse than having nobody at all.

The Perfect Maid

Because she was pregnant, Aunty could not do much work, and she was unwell for some of the time. She needed someone to help her around the clock. She asked her new guard to ask around outside. “If anyone is ready to work twenty-four hours a day, let me know,” she told him. “All right, madam, no problem, I will look,” he said.

Two days later the guard came to her. “Madam, there is a girl waiting outside. She says she is ready to stay twenty-four hours and can do all the household work very well.” Aunty told him to bring her in so she could talk to her.

When the girl walked in, Aunty was astonished. She was unbelievably beautiful, and the clothes she wore did not look like a maid’s at all. Aunty thought that the people she had worked for before must have been very good to her and looked after her well. She asked the girl many questions, where she had worked, where she had lived. When she was satisfied with the answers, she asked, “What kind of work can you do?” The girl said, “Aunty, I am very hardworking and I keep myself clean. Whatever you ask me to do, I will never refuse.” Aunty liked how hardworking and clean she seemed, and the way she spoke impressed her too. After a short talk, Aunty decided to keep her. By Aunty’s guess, the girl was about seventeen, and she had no identity card. This was in the nineties, and nobody expected a seventeen-year-old to have an ID card then.

I should tell you the girl’s name now. It was Fariha.

When Fariha came into Aunty’s life, it felt as if peace had returned to her. The girl would not even let her get out of bed. Everything was so smooth that Aunty did not have to say anything or do anything. She was very happy with her and praised her to everyone around her.

The Dreams and the Warning

But slowly, things began to change. By then Aunty was eight months pregnant. She knew that what was happening to her was not an effect of pregnancy, because of the kind of problems she had. At first she began to see strange dreams at night, with graveyards and dead people. She felt there were corpses all around her, tearing the house apart and rushing toward her. The scenes were so terrifying that she could not sleep. Even if she did fall asleep, she woke up screaming. It was not a single night. These nightmares came almost every day. She was afraid to sleep, because she feared she would see the same dream again or wake up screaming. They felt so real that even after waking, she believed she was still in danger.

Time passed, and her delivery date came close. According to the ultrasound, the baby was perfectly healthy. But when she gave birth, the baby was stillborn. And it was not just that he was born dead. It seemed his heart had been completely destroyed. It felt as if it had just happened the day before. Earlier tests had shown no problem, and even the day before, she had felt the baby’s heartbeat and movement. How could this be possible?

Her sister, Amy, and her husband told her nothing at first. They just said there might be some problem and that they should wait to hear what the doctor said. A few days later, when Amy told her the truth, it felt as if the ground was being pulled out from under her feet. He was her first child. The birth itself was completely normal, with no complications at all. The doctor sat there holding his head, because the ultrasound had shown the baby perfectly healthy. He could not believe it. When Amy said, “But he was fine yesterday,” the whole situation seemed so strange that the hospital was full of crowds. The doctors formed a board to investigate the whole matter, but they could not reach any conclusion.

For her, those days were like a nightmare. Only a person who has lost a child this way can feel that pain. For days she lay unconscious, and in the end she slipped into depression. She could not even see her baby’s face. Her mother told her, “Look, dear, if you see him, you will feel worse. That is why we did not let you see his face. That is why he was buried quickly.” It hurt terribly. After that, she began to have even stranger dreams. Again and again she saw a child walking alone in her dreams, and he looked exactly the way her mother had described her baby. At first she thought it must be her imagination, the picture her mind had made from her mother’s words. But then it became a routine. Every day that child came into her dream and asked, “Mother, why did you kill me? Why did you let me die?” The voice felt so familiar that she could not shake it out of her head.

At some point she told her husband everything. He told her he had never had any dream like that and could not understand why. She said, “I am having these dreams, but I had never shared them with you.” The elders always said that bad dreams should not be shared. She had become so restless that she had to take the medicine her doctor had prescribed just to get some peace. Without it she could not sleep, and a fear sat in her mind all the time. She found peace nowhere.

During this time, Fariha began to take very good care of her. She stayed awake at night for her, and during the day she was always by her side. She did whatever Aunty needed. Seeing such lovely behaviour and such lovely work, Aunty doubled the girl’s salary. She thought that if the girl left her at this time or quit the job, she might go mad. She said she only hoped she would not fall completely apart. All that had happened was stuck in her head. Her baby had died, she was in low spirits, and if this girl left too, her condition would become terrible.

One day, as this went on, Aunty felt something in her clothes. It felt hard, and she thought it might be a taweez, an amulet. When she realised it was a taweez, she saw that it had been sewn inside the fabric. So what was going on? In her house she had a woman for washing clothes, one for ironing, and one for sewing, and the girl who stayed with her all twenty-four hours, seven days a week. She called the laundry woman to show her the taweez.

When Aunty showed it, the woman who washed the clothes said, “Oh, madam, this is magic. Someone has done magic on you.” Aunty asked, “What are you saying? How does magic work? What do you know about it?” The woman said, “I have heard that when someone does magic, they keep taweez and amulets like this.” Aunty thought, “Whom have I harmed that anyone would do magic on me? I have not done any wrong or behaved badly with anyone.”

The woman then explained it to her like an older sister. “Madam, times are very bad. People can be so jealous. They can be driven by anger or envy, and that may be why someone did magic on you. Your family is doing very well. Your husband is a good man and earns well, and you lack nothing. Seeing it, someone may well become jealous.” After these words, Aunty said nothing more to her.

Afterwards she called the laundry woman and the ironing woman and asked whether it was their work, whether they could have done it while washing clothes. She said many things to both. They were both amazed. “Madam, what are you saying? We never do things like that.” In the end, Aunty did not want to take any more risks. She dismissed them both. She felt that if she did not remove them, she would not be able to handle the situation, so removing them was better.

Through all this she was seeing so many things in the house, thinking about them, dreaming. But her husband showed no reaction to any of it. It was as if he could not understand it at all. And yet he was not in good health either. He was constantly ill and slept far more than before. A man who used to get up at six or seven in the morning began sleeping until noon. His health stayed poor for a long time. He worked in a garment factory, and he had never taken leave, but suddenly he started taking a lot of it.

One night Aunty dreamed of a terrifying woman with an open mouth, singing in the dream. She felt as if her whole body and face were burning in fire. The woman was running toward her husband and trying to catch him. In the dream her husband tried hard to escape but could not. He looked at her and made some strange marks with his fingers, like a satanic sign, some kind of conspiracy. Later Aunty told me, “If I showed you that sign, son, you could Google it and understand what it was. But I will not show it to you.”

She was so frightened by the sign that she woke up screaming, even though her husband was asleep right beside her, and the nightmare kept going. When she woke, her husband asked, “What happened? Tell me what is wrong.” She told him the dream. He sat quietly for a while. Then he began to cry. “Why are you crying?” she asked, and she tried to calm him and console him. He seemed very restless.

Then he told her he felt that he was no longer alive, that his soul had left his body. He had dreamed that an ugly-faced woman had come to seize his soul. At first, he said, he only used to see dead people. But after that he saw the burnt woman every night, trying to kill him in the dream. As he said this, his voice shook badly. Aunty told him she had been having such dreams for the past three months but had never said so, because her sister Amy had advised her that bad dreams should not be shared with anyone.

Just then her husband got up to make wudu for the Fajr prayer. He went to the kitchen to fetch some water. Suddenly, the ceiling fan above Aunty’s bed crashed down onto the bed. By Allah’s endless mercy, Aunty survived. If she had been a little further to the left, the fan would have fallen on her head, and it had been spinning at full speed. Allah saved her. She was completely stunned.

After that, she told her husband about the taweez she had found in her clothes, and about all the strange things she had noticed in the house. “Look,” her husband said, “life and death are in Allah’s hands. Let us see what we can do. When our time comes, we will go as Allah commands, and as long as Allah wills, we will be in this world. Nobody can harm us without His will. Don’t worry so much.”

But Amy had been saying all along, seeing how things were, that perhaps they were under some heavenly blessing, and that was why they had not been harmed yet. “But you are certainly caught in black magic,” she said. Amy had tried many times to take Aunty to a spiritual healer, but Aunty always avoided it. She had her own opinions and beliefs about such matters and did not take them seriously.

One day Amy came to the house and did something Aunty had never seen or heard of before. She brought a woman with her. When that woman saw Aunty at the gate, she stopped dead and stared at her face in a strange way. It looked as if she had fallen deep into thought. Then she suddenly came out of it, came inside, and sat down. Amy said, “This is my sister. She is facing a lot of trouble, so I have brought you here.” She introduced the woman as a spiritual healer. Aunty gave the woman a sharp look, and then her sister too, as if to say, “What have you started?” She had told Amy beforehand that she did not agree with these things and had her own set of beliefs.

But the woman looked at her and said, “Don’t be angry with Amy. Focus on your own situation. Listen, some serious black magic is being done on you, and if you don’t fix it, your situation will become very complicated.”

Aunty looked at the woman and said, “Something happened yesterday and I said I was worried, but it is really nothing. We do not need your help. Aunty, I do not believe in these things. Please do not put such ideas in my head. I am already under a lot of pressure and trying to deal with depression. I am trying to heal myself and my family, so please leave.” The woman said, “Dear, this is not just depression, and the things you are imagining are not ordinary. This is black magic. If you ever need me, call me.” With that she started to go.

Then Aunty folded her hands in front of her and said, “Please stop. I cannot bear this. I am a very sceptical person. You can leave. I will not say anything to you. Just go.” Before leaving, the woman said, “Listen, my child. Listen to me carefully. If you do not get treatment quickly, someone in your house will die.” Weeping, Aunty said, “Please go. We do not need any treatment, nothing at all. I am holding your hands and feet. Please go.” There was nothing more the woman could do, so she left.

Afterwards, Amy came into the house and said, “Apa, you did not do the right thing. You should have at least listened to her properly. I did this for your good. You should say sorry to her.” But Aunty paid little attention to any of this. She thought she had become so weak from all these problems that even her complexion had gone pale. She did not understand what was really happening. As for the medicine she was taking, her husband’s condition began to worsen so badly that he started taking the same medicine himself. She was very worried. What was going on? Her husband was in this state, she was in this state, and she did not know what to do.

One evening Aunty was drinking coffee. She had stepped out with it when it seemed to her that she was dreaming again. She saw her husband standing with his eyes closed, and she reached out to him, but it seemed he could not hear her. It felt like a dream, but her husband was standing right in front of her. I made a mistake earlier when I said a courtyard. He was actually on the roof, looking at the moon. He had gone right to the corner of the roof. She called the guard and said, “Quick, bring him, he will fall.” He had closed his eyes again.

Her husband was standing with his eyes closed and making signs with his fingers, just like the woman in the dream had done. He made that same satanic sign. For a few seconds he opened his eyes and looked at her. Then he made the sign again and jumped from the sixth floor. Seeing him jump, Aunty collapsed completely. When she slowly regained consciousness, she found herself in her own room and learned that her husband had died after falling from the roof.

Amy came and sat beside her, crying. She said, “Apa, I told you earlier. I know this is not the time to say it, but please think about it.” But Aunty did not listen to Amy then. She was in shock at the news of her husband’s death, and she does not know how long she stayed in depression. She stayed in the house with her husband’s memories. Then she went to her father’s house, because every memory of him in this house hurt her. She went away from it for a while.

What the Girl Confessed

When she came back, she felt a strong pull to return home. She had not seen her husband’s clothes for so long. She came into the house, and the girl who worked twenty-four hours was there, cooking. Aunty said, “Fariha, my dear, make me a cup of coffee, and then I will lie down. I have just arrived.” She told her to make her coffee and went to her room.

As she passed the living room, she heard odd sounds from the kitchen. It sounded as if someone was talking on the phone, the way a person speaks secretly. Aunty never interfered in anyone’s personal matters, but that day it worried her. Who was talking in secret, and what kind of talk was it? It seemed to be coming from the window. There were no mobile phones at that time. Maybe someone had come to the window, and someone was talking to them.

When she went into the room, she asked Fariha, “Were you talking to someone?” The girl denied it outright. “No, madam, I did not talk to anyone. I was just singing to myself.” Aunty let it go.

Then one day Fariha was working on the roof, and Aunty came up behind her. She saw another man standing on the roof, and Fariha was standing with him, saying, “Her husband is dead. Now it is Aunty’s turn. When Aunty dies, my revenge will be complete.”

Hearing this, Aunty was stunned. At once she seized the girl by the hair, pulled her down, sat her in front of the guard, and told him, “Keep an eye on her.” Then she phoned her brother and Amy and asked them to come quickly. When Aunty told them everything, her brother flew into a rage and began threatening the girl with the police. “Tell us everything quickly, or I will have the police take you right now,” he said. At first she denied everything. After a while, when they were talking about going to the police, she began crying and begging for forgiveness. She said that if they let her go, she would confess everything. Aunty said, “Come on, tell us everything you have done so far.”

Then the girl went around the house and brought out all kinds of taweez from different places. The things she said made the ground slip from under Aunty’s feet. The family’s maid had done black magic on them, and more than that, she had done it herself. As she described it, Aunty felt as if the blood in her body had frozen. The girl said she had not just used ordinary things. She had put them in the pillows, under the bed, in the wardrobe, even in the ground.

“Bring out every single taweez,” Aunty said. Fifteen or twenty minutes later, the girl brought them all back and placed them on the table. Aunty sat down holding her head. Her brother said sharply to the girl, “What else is there? Bring everything out. And why did you do this? Tell us.” She began to explain that she had been mixing pieces of a corpse and ash into their food and feeding it to Aunty and her whole family.

At that very moment, Aunty had a mug of coffee in her hand. It slipped from her fingers, and she wanted to vomit. Her brother told someone to bring something else and asked to have the coffee tin brought. When they opened the tin, they saw there really were bones in it. One shocking piece of news after another.

The girl then said, “The baby you had, I killed him. Your husband, I killed him.” Hearing this, Aunty could only wonder, “What has happened to my life? Why did this happen?” She slapped the girl hard across the face and said, “Why did you do this? We took care of you. You ate in our house, you lived in our house, we never let you lack for anything. Why did you do this?”

Fariha said, “I did all this for revenge.” Aunty asked, “Revenge for what?” The girl said, “I am the daughter of the guard you dismissed, the one you suspected of being linked to the robbers. After that, my father was so ashamed that when it became known in the area, he could not find any work. He could not feed us, his children. And in that grief, one day he took his own life.”

Aunty went completely silent. The girl went on, “When my father died like that, was I not going to take revenge? If you had waited a few more days, all of you would have died too.” Hearing the girl’s words, Aunty had nothing left to say.

Afterwards, they threw the girl out of the house. They called a hujur (Islamic scholar) to the house, who had the Quran recited from cover to cover and had sadaqah, charity, given. The hujur (Islamic scholar) said that after this, there was no black magic left in their house.

But even today, Aunty does not understand what wrong they really did in this. And sometimes she thinks that perhaps they should have looked into it a little more, to find out what the connection with the robbery really was.