Ramadan Arabian Nights 2025: The Tale of Fatima, Halima and Karima “The Ghosts in the chamber” EP.27

Ramadan Karim

Tonight, we will continue our tale, the “Tale of Fatima, Halima and Karima",, and know what Halima will know from Abu Farag in their meeting, but first, we will have our little chitchat.

As Taher Abu Fasha used spirit possession in our tale this time, I would like to highlight something: contrary to what Wikipedia claims, spirit possession is an alien concept in Islam.

It entered Islamic societies through pre-Islamic African cultures and civilisations, such as Ancient Egypt and Ethiopia.

It has no roots in the Holy Quran or the Sunna.

The Quran makes no mention of possession, and Prophet Muhammad (PBUH) never performed exorcisms nor taught specific rituals for them.

On the contrary, the Quran emphasizes that humans and jinn inhabit entirely separate worlds.

In other words, it is completely pre-Islamic folkloric.

And now, without further delay, here is the 699th episode of our Arabian Nights Egyptian radio show—or the 27th night in this year’s tale, The Tale of Fatima, Halima, and Karima.

Episode 27: The Ghosts in the Chamber

When it was the six hundred and ninety-ninth night, King Shahryar took his accustomed seat, and scarcely had a moment passed when Shahrazad approached. She advanced, then paused, greeted the king, and sat before him.

Then she began her tale from where she had left off.

She said:

It is told to me, O happy king, wise in judgment and sound in counsel, that when Queen Yasmin, Queen of the Serpents, and the daughters who were with her heard Halima’s story—how Reema had wronged her, and what had befallen her sister Karima—the Queen’s anger flared, and the anger of the maidens flared with her. Yet anger alone did not suffice them, for they wished to be certain of Halima’s words and to know the truth of what she claimed about her sister.

Their dispute grew heated, their voices rising, until at last they turned to Abu Farrag. Halima asked him of Karima, and he began to murmur and mutter, reciting words half-heard and half-understood.

 Suddenly, the place filled with smoke, and in that very instant, a spirit descended into him. Its presence revealed itself in his voice, as he told them the tale of Karima—how Reema had betrayed her, how the accursed woman claimed the girl was mad, how King Golan believed the lie, and how Karima was imprisoned on the Island of Forgetting.

Then Abu Farrag turned to them, his body trembling, and said they could see her at once.

He surged forward in a violent trance, leading them to a remote and desolate place. With a woman’s voice issuing from his mouth, he gestured toward a corner, brought forth several vessels, and began pouring water into them.

“Do you know where the Island of Oblivion lies?” the spirit asked.

“Where?” cried the serpent maidens and Halima together.

“In the Sea of Darkness.”

“The Sea of Darkness?” they repeated in astonishment.

Before them lay a wide dish filled with water, and the spirit intoned, calling upon unseen forces. “Deeds are by intentions, and those who come are more than those who depart. Give—give—give, O Vast in mercy.”

“Your time, Abu Farrag,” Queen Yasmin said firmly.

The spirit spoke again, its voice rising and falling like waves. “The sea has surged, the world has become waves striking waves—and yet the world gives no ease to the needy. A little more water… enough, enough. This is the portion, and this is what has been divided. Begin with seven, for seven follows seven; and the jīm with five, and five is a touch… By the secret of kun fa-yakūn, let the Island of Forgetting appear—now, now, now!”

The spirit laughed as the image took form upon the water’s surface. “Well done, well done, O Queen of the Serpents. The water before you is the Sea of Darkness.”

“The Sea of Darkness?” Queen Yasmin echoed.

“And now,” said the spirit, “you shall see within it the Island of Forgetting.”

Halima leaned forward, her breath catching. “Then Karima—my sister—”

“Come and see her, child.”

“So little water?” Halima whispered in disbelief.

“Say no more,” replied the spirit. “Look before you. This is the Sea of Darkness.”

The spirit turned joyfully toward Queen Yasmin. “Look, O Queen of the Serpents.”

“I see nothing,” said Zumurruda.

“Nor do I,” said the Queen.

The spirit returned to its incantation, repeating the ancient names and secrets. Suddenly Halima cried out, “There! There! Gardens—and so many trees!”

“Is that the island?” Queen Yasmin asked.

“That,” said the spirit, “is the Island of Forgetting.”

“I see guards,” Halima said, her voice trembling. “Soldiers standing watch.”

“They will not see you,” the spirit replied. “Here you are phantoms; there, you are spirits.”

“My queen,” Zumurruda murmured.

“I can hardly believe my eyes,” said Queen Yasmin. “Look, look, O human girl.”

“There’s a gate,” Halima said softly. “O holy dervish—there’s a gate.”

The spirit, still speaking from Abu Farrag’s body, beckoned them toward the doorway that now rose from the water’s surface. “Enter. Do not fear. No one will see you, and no one will question you.”

“My queen—” Halima hesitated.

“Go on,” Queen Yasmin urged her. “Enter.”

“Do you see?” the spirit said.

And when they passed through the gate, they heard the sound of weeping—the sobs of a girl seated beside a window.

“Who is that girl sitting there, crying?” Queen Yasmin asked.

Halima’s face lit with sudden joy. “That’s my sister—Karima! My sister!”

“Why is she crying?” the Queen asked gently.

“Look—look,” Halima whispered.

“There’s someone opening the window for her,” said Queen Yasmin.

“A man,” Halima gasped. “He’s slipping toward her.”

She turned in panic toward the spirit. “Can’t I call out to her?”

“You cannot,” the spirit answered. “She will not hear you. There, you are spirits—here, you are shadows.”

Halima clutched at the air. “The window—the window! It’s opening!”

Inside that chamber of that Palace that became her prison, unaware that her sister was watching her at that very moment beside the Queen of the Serpents, Karima sat trembling, her tears falling silently.

A sound startled her.

“Who is there?” she whispered, fear tightening her voice. “Who’s there?”

From the narrow window came a hushed reply, urgent and strained. It was Prince Zahran.

“Hush,” he said. “Lower your voice, Ansiyya. Don’t cry out.”

She stared at him in disbelief. “Why are you like this?” she asked. “Why are you coming through the window?”

“Slowly… slowly,” he pleaded.

“But why?” she insisted. “Why sneak in like this?”

“So the guards won’t see me.”

“And why should they?” she asked, still confused.

“You don’t know?” he said quietly.

“Know what?” Karima asked. “Did you go to your father? Did you speak to him?”

“I wish I hadn’t,” Zahran replied bitterly.

“So you did speak to him,” she said.

“I wish I never had.”

“What happened?” she asked anxiously.

“You’re the one who made me speak,” he said. “And I knew what state he was in.”

“What state?” she asked. “What happened, son of the Sultan?”

“I told you before,” he said. “My father has been furious ever since my brother, Prince Karwan, fell gravely ill. And matters only grew worse after the proclamation.”

“What proclamation?”

“My father had announced a great reward for anyone who could cure the prince,” Zahran explained. “He promised riches and honor to whoever succeeded. That reward tempted every doctor and charlatan, every pretender who claimed knowledge of medicine. They all came to try their luck, hoping to win the prize.”

He paused, his voice heavy. “The result was disastrous. The prince’s condition worsened, and my father grew more enraged. So he issued another decree: anyone who attempted to treat the prince and failed would lose his head.”

Karima sighed bitterly. “And who wouldn’t fear for his neck?”

“Exactly,” Zahran said. “That’s our dilemma. That’s why I didn’t want to tell my father about us. But when he questioned me, I told him your story. I told him your name.”

Her breath caught.

“He erupted in fury,” Zahran continued. “He forbade me from ever setting foot on the island again.”

Karima began to weep. “You see?”

“And he ordered Matouq arrested at once.”

Her face drained of color. “Uncle Matouq?”

“They bound him in chains and irons,” Zahran said. “Then my father replaced all the guards here with new ones.”

“And then?” she asked faintly.

“God alone is our help,” he replied.

“It’s as if everything is conspiring against me,” Karima whispered.

“We won’t despair,” Zahran said firmly. “Not while I still breathe.”

“Even you,” she said through tears, “the only one who kept me company… they want to take you away from me.”

“There is no power in existence that can keep me from you,” he said. “I won’t leave you alone.”

Suddenly, footsteps echoed nearby.

“Oh no,” Karima whispered.

“Who’s that?” Zahran asked.

A voice called from outside. “Your food, Ansiyya.”

“They’ve brought your meal,” Zahran said quickly.

“Go,” Karima urged him. “Escape now.”

Zahran slipped back the way he had come, disappearing through the window. Karima wiped her tears and called out in a steady voice, “Wait there a moment, until I put on my shawl.”

Then she turned back to the window and whispered hurriedly, before he vanished into the dark, “You’ll come back, won’t you?”

“I’ll come again,” he whispered. “Through the window.”

“I’ll be waiting for you,” she said.

“God be with you,” he replied.

“And I’ll close the window behind you,” Karima said softly.

All of this Halima witnessed—standing beside the Queen of the Serpents like a shadow, unseen and unheard. No matter how hard she tried, Karima could neither see her nor hear her voice.

“Oh my beloved,” Halima whispered, her heart breaking. “My sister…”

From within Abu Farrag’s body, the feminine spirit spoke calmly, almost triumphantly.

“Do you believe now?”

“The prince left her,” Halima said bitterly. “He was forced to.”

“But it’s clear he loves her,” Queen Yasmine said softly.

“They call her mad,” Halima replied.

“Poor thing,” the Queen murmured.

“It was that cursed woman,” Halima said through clenched teeth. “She made them believe Karima was insane.”

“Poor thing,” the Queen repeated.

“Poor? Poor?” the spirit echoed sharply. “You have seen with your own eyes and heard with your own ears. What will you do for the poor girl now?”

“Your time, Abu Farrag,” Queen Yasmine said firmly.

“The world gives nothing to the needy,” the spirit replied.

“How do we save this human girl?” the Queen asked. “How do we free her, Abu Farrag?”

“No one can save Karima,” the spirit said, “except her sister—Halima.”

Halima gasped. “Me? How?”

“You now know,” the spirit continued, “that Prince Karwan lies gravely ill.”

“Yes,” Halima and the Queen answered together.

“And you know that Sultan Golan issued a proclamation: whoever heals the prince, the Sultan will grant whatever he asks.”

“Yes,” they said again.

“The illness afflicting Prince Karwan is called the Sardān disease,” the spirit said. “It can only be cured by the seed of a plant known as the Sardān plant. If Halima brings those seeds, prepares an ointment from them, disguises herself as a physician, and anoints the prince—he will rise restored, healthy and whole.”

The spirit paused.

“Then Halima shall ask the Sultan to release her sister from the Island of Forgetfulness.”

“But he said,” Queen Yasmine reminded her, “‘Whoever heals him shall receive whatever he wishes.’”

“That is the matter in full,” the spirit replied. “And now I leave you in peace.”

The spirit vanished.

Moments later, Abu Farrag sneezed violently and cried out in his booming voice:

“I bear witness that there is no god but God, and that our master Solomon is the Prophet of God!”

“May God have mercy on you,” Queen Yasmine said.

“May God forgive me and you,” Abu Farrag replied. “Now listen well to what I say.”

“Abu Farrag,” Halima said urgently.

“The world gives nothing to the needy,” he repeated.

“Your voice is back,” Halima said in relief.

“Yes,” he nodded. “The spirit that possessed me has departed.”

“So if I bring the Sardān seeds and prepare the ointment…” Halima asked.

“You can heal Prince Karwan,” Abu Farrag said, “and free your sister from the Island of Forgetfulness.”

“And where do we find the Sardān plant?” Queen Yasmine asked.

“The Sardān plant,” Abu Farrag said gravely, “exists only in the Valley of Herbs and Plants.”

“The dwelling of serpents and vipers?” the Queen asked.

“Can you guide me there?” Halima asked.

“You cannot enter it alone,” Abu Farrag replied.

“Why?”

“Have you not heard?” he said. “The Valley of Herbs and Plants is the home of serpents and vipers.”

“Then why tell me all this,” Halima cried, “if I cannot reach it?”

“I have told you the matter as it is,” Abu Farrag said calmly.

“What should I do?” Halima asked helplessly.

“If my lady agrees,” Abu Farrag said, turning to the Queen, “and goes with you wearing the Serpent Robe, all serpents and vipers will fall still.”

“I have no objection,” Queen Yasmine said at once.

“The world gives nothing to the needy,” Abu Farrag murmured.

“That settles the serpents,” Halima said. “But how will I recognize the plant?”

“If the Queen of the Serpents enters with you wearing the Serpent Robe,” Abu Farrag explained, “every herb and plant will speak—telling its name and its use. When you hear one say, ‘I am the Sardān plant, and I cure the Sardān disease,’ you will bend down, gather its seeds, prepare the ointment, and go to the Sultan’s son.”

“Then I will go with her,” Queen Yasmine declared. “To the Valley of Herbs and Plants.”

“With the Serpent Robe,” Abu Farrag reminded her.

“I’ll bring it,” she said. “And the tray as well.”

“And then,” Abu Farrag said, “you will go to the valley.”

“Proceed, O Queen of Life,” he added.

Turning to Halima, Queen Yasmine said gently, “Come, human one.”

“I’ll carry her,” Abu Farrag said, meaning Halima.

“I’m afraid,” Halima whispered.

“Do not fear,” Abu Farrag reassured her. “Do not fear.”

At that moment, Queen Yasmine transformed into a mighty bird, spreading her vast wings and crying:

“On the wings of the wind!”

“On the wings of the wind!” Abu Farrag echoed.

They soared into the sky, folding distance upon distance, until at last Queen Yasmine returned with the Serpent Robe and the tray.

At this moment, Shahrazad realized that the morning had arrived, so she fell silent, leaving the story unfinished.

Here is the 27th episode of our tale, televised

You can check the previous Ramadan Arabian Nights here.

In the spirit of Ramadan, I invite you to support UNICEF’s relief efforts in Gaza and Sudan, as well as elsewhere on the globe. Every pound, dollar, or euro can make a difference.

Till next night inshallah