The White Ghost

Yemeni mp

Ahmed Saif Hashed

The security checkpoints, likely established in the early 1980s in our remote areas, forced us to navigate around them by taking convoluted paths, crossing numerous slopes, and climbing rugged terrain to avoid any contact or confrontation.

On one occasion, I took a detour on a mountain near “Souq Al-Khamis” around one o’clock in the morning. The moon was hiding behind the tall mountains, its pale light fading toward dusk, while darkness crept in, expanding its reach. I spotted a white figure moving and tucked myself away to observe cautiously.

The white ghost drew closer without sensing my presence. It wore a white shirt and a turban, secured with a piece of white cloth around its head. To me, it appeared to be a saintly figure or perhaps a righteous man among God’s chosen servants who occasionally manifest among humanity, bringing luck and happiness or instilling hope and optimism.

Questions and possibilities overwhelmed me: Could it be Al-Khadher? But why would Al-Khadher, peace be upon him, leave the well-trodden path, subjecting himself to hardship by climbing rugged walls? I navigate these treacherous routes to avoid the checkpoint, yet why would he do the same, especially as a saint of God or a prophet?

A fragrant breeze wafted toward me, preceding its owner, who seemed anxious. I felt a refreshing lift to my spirit, worn down by travel and evading security points. The white ghost drew closer, scaling the wall that led to the very space where I was hidden. There was no longer any room to avoid a collision, while he remained unaware of my presence. I asked myself silently, perplexed: I have heard that Al-Khadher manifests as a man of piety or an elder in white or green garments, but I never heard of him wearing perfume after midnight!

Could he be a “jinn”? Jinn might climb walls, but I doubt they wear garments of righteousness, and I certainly don’t imagine they adorn themselves unless a jinn wishes to seduce men. Yet this white ghost seemed to defy all that is commonly believed about jinn.

If it were Al-Khadher or one of God’s righteous saints, surely he would realize there was a youth before him, hand on the grip and finger on the trigger, ready to fire at any moment! I had never heard of pious men scaling walls in the dead of night, scattering fragrances that could enchant women in their depths. My astonishment, suspicion, and doubts grew stronger from the very beginning.

Moments later, I found myself face to face with him, only about two meters separating us. A collision was inevitable before he began to climb the wall against which I leaned.

The impact was imminent. I sprang from my hiding place, charging at him with the muzzle of my automatic rifle pointed between his ribs, demanding, “Who are you?! Who’s with me?!” The surprise was overwhelming for him—it was as if lightning had struck. My finger was poised on the trigger, ready to fire at the slightest hint of suspicious movement or resistance, and surely, it would end here with an unknown body and an unidentified killer.

Yet, his reaction was filled with panic and confusion. He stammered, “Your uncle, ‘So-and-so…’ Your uncle, ‘So-and-so…’ Your uncle, ‘So-and-so…’” I felt his heart nearly leap from his chest; I could almost hear the pounding of his heart. Fear engulfed him, and terror surged within him like a flood.

I stepped aside and let him pass, wishing that this lover—most likely—had deceived me by claiming, “I am your saint, Al-Khadher.” If he had done so, justifying his words, the story would have taken a different turn. I cannot imagine where it would have led me. Had he spoken those words and managed to dispel my doubts and answer my questions, perhaps the tale would have been far more captivating than it is now. If he had confided in me, revealing his secrets and the details of his love, his story would intertwine with mine in a way more thrilling and delightful than it currently stands.

* * *

Many murderers, con artists, opportunists, thieves, and corrupt individuals have successfully deceived us, even fooling their own people with cunning, malice, and pretense, claiming to be in the ranks of Al-Khadher and the righteous saints, even angels. We trusted them, believing they held the key to our salvation from the oppressive burdens weighing heavily on our weary shoulders. Only later did we discover, at a great cost, that they were possessed by deep malice and cunning, harboring a great evil that could shake mountains if allowed to gain power and dominion.

It is a bitter experience, more painful than the fiercest flames, one that we have lived through and continue to endure alongside our people to this day. What is even more sorrowful and tragic is that some among us are still relentlessly drawn into deeper despair, fervently executing war agendas with a zeal surpassing that of the war itself, driven by sheer folly and rushing like a tempest toward something even uglier and more horrific. Some have become more royal than the king, motivated by power, wealth, or false glory.

The conspiracy has grown larger than us and our homeland. Our legacy to future generations is to avoid falling into the same traps we encountered, if there remains any semblance of existence for our nation. The new generations must learn from what has transpired to ensure that history does not repeat itself in an even more costly and tragic farce—and so they do not pay a multiplied price.

Beware a thousand times of those who don the guise of piety and righteousness, who masquerade in virtue and goodness, while within them all the evils yearn to take residence and bring down all of life.

* * *