Salonaz Sami delves into forbidden realms Magic always intrigued me. Not that I believe in it, but whenever I had the chance, I would gulp down a cup of coffee -- which I don't like much, even so -- and run to a colleague who knows how to "read" the remains at the bottom. So when a friend told me about a man who claims to be friends with the djinn, I determined to discover the truth. I was handed a small card: "Dreaming of being a mother? Suspect your husband is cheating on you? Think you might be under a spell? Hag Hussein has the answer." It took forever to pluck up the courage to dial the number printed on it. The ringing seemed to go on forever: "Hag Hussein's office," a woman's voice finally came through. "Can I help you?" In a shaky voice, I introduced myself and asked for an appointment. She went off to ask permission, then came back and said the schedule was full -- I would have to wait a week. I called again, concealing my impatience; I spoke of deadlines at the newspaper. The woman took my number and called back with the good news: she had managed to fit me in the next day, but only for an hour. I arrived punctually at that very old building in one of downtown Cairo's narrowest streets -- only to realise I would have to wait my turn among many, many others. Nor were these illiterate or working-class people. In the room there was a physician and a university professor; admittedly, most were women. The room was unremarkable except for a relaxing aroma and the candles burning dimly in the corner. There was a low table and some low chairs, and a large bookshelf in the background. A man in his mid-fifties sat in one of the chairs, dressed in a white galabiya and scarf. "I have a few male customers every once in a while," Hag Hussein was to explain, in time, "but most of my customers are women. They come to me because I am the only one who can help them solve their problems." He pointed to pictures of well-known actors and singers. "All have been my customers. Some of them can't come here because it is too much of a risk to their status. That's why I go to their homes instead." The ability to predict the future and make contact with "underground dwellers" emerged early in Hag Hussein's life, he says: "When I was 16, I had my first vision into the future. It was dawn and I was alone -- a flash of white light swept the room and an old woman came out of the wall. She told me my father would die soon, and that I was gifted with this ability to contact the inhabitants of parallel worlds, which I could use to help people." Hag Hussein pauses. "Two days later, my father died." Since then, he insists, he has never done anything to harm anyone. That, he says, "would be against our religion". Apart from customers who suspect their husbands of infidelity or are eager to cast spells on neighbours or colleagues, or else seeking pregnancy, some come with apparently incurable medical complaints that are the result of malevolent spells -- only the Hag is able to cure them. Sometimes he can solve a problem himself, using talismans, spells, certain kinds of incense; often, however, when the problem is hard, he must contact his friends underground. They have rather more power. Men tend to have different problems, Hag Hussein added: income-related mostly, but they also come seeking to fine- tune their marital life or undo a spell. Once, seeking to know the future of one customer, Hag Hussein could only see a wood plank. He had no choice but to explain that someone close but not dear would die -- that is what the sign signified. Smiling hopefully, the customer said he hoped it would be his wife. Later on the same day he came back overjoyed: "He kissed my hand and told me that his wife really had died." This is truly remarkable in the light of the work of other so-called sheikhs, like Hag Hussein, whose exorcisms have resulted, for example, in severe brain damage and internal haemorrhage in the case of Sayeda, 40, whose husband declared them all frauds as a result. But she is alone in her magical convictions. According to a National Centre for Psychological Research study conducted by Roshdi Mansour and Naguib Iskandar, 63 per cent of the Egyptian population -- 11 per cent of whom are artists, intellectuals, politicians and athletics -- believe in magic; some 274 myths and fables control the collective psyche. Over 60 per cent of Egyptian women, for example, believe that staring in the mirror at night makes you a spinster for life. Fadya, 44, is the educated mother of two, divorced after 10 years of marriage. On marrying again, however, the result was the same because she could not give birth to a baby boy. A fortune-teller told her her second husband's father, who had been against the marriage, had hexed her: "I discovered I was possessed by seven djinn." Good djinn were placed in her body to get rid of those and the hex, with the result that, instead of having her husband back, Fadya lost the custody of her children to her first husband. A Centre for Criminal and Social Research (CCSR) study carried out by Mohamed Abdel-Azim revealed that Arabs spend over five billion US dollars each year on fortune- telling and magic; there is a fortune-teller for every 240 citizens of Egypt, with the highest concentrations in Cairo located in working-class neighbourhoods, particularly Sharabiya, Sayeda Zeinab, Shubra and Matariya. The famous Hag Ibrahim, located in the village of Tanah, 150 km north of Cairo, charges US$1,000 per session. According to Fekri Abdel-Aziz, a psychiatry consultant, "Those who believe in spells don't understand that there are reasons for the phenomena of our lives. Some fail to realise that certain mental problems need a long time to be cured. Epilepsy, for example, is often attributed to djinn." Yet with sufficient self- belief it should be possible to confront the ups and downs of life, while social, economic and psychological pressures might be obstacles in the way. Those who turn to charlatans, he said, have the same psychic profile: weak, impressionable, unstable and superficial. Still, "it is not their fault." Television, Abdel-Aziz says, the main source of information for the people in question, encourages belief in such things. Many customers turn to charlatans because "they want their problems to be solved right then and there without having to make any effort themselves" -- a common enough attitude. Women are particularly vulnerable, according to Ain Shams University sociology professor Ahmed Tawfik, because "they are brought up to believe that they are weak and helpless." Many things must be done to delimit the phenomenon of magic, he insists: "Every social, religious, intellectual and civil authority should come together in the face of charlatans and frauds. This is a particularly difficult time not only because of living conditions but because people are finding it harder and harder to assert their Eastern identity in the face of Western culture. Mothers must stop telling their children horror stories, the media should undertake information campaigns, and the police must play a role as well."
