They are experiences that many films have contrasted—pregnancy and possession—but for Wafaa, these realities unfold with starkly different textures. While she navigates the joys of impending motherhood, she also grapples with profound anxieties. Despite missing her husband, who is away on military duties, Wafaa finds herself in a state of happiness about her pregnancy. Yet, beneath this surface joy lies a deep-seated fear. She tells those around her that she would rather face death than experience possession, recalling how unsettling it felt to have such an intimate and controlling secret within her.
This tension found a strange counterpoint in the life of her kind neighbor, Akram Djeghim. Akram, who provides support, is currently caring for an elderly man named Mostefa Djadjam, a man who is gradually succumbing to Alzheimer’s disease. This situation introduces another layer of existential dread, one where physical decline intersects with spiritual uncertainty.
Mostefa Djadjam carries the weighty history of having dealt with evil jinn. As his mind begins to unravel and his memories fade, Akram watches with deep concern as the man seems to lose his connection to Allah, the source of his protection and peace. This transition is not merely a matter of memory loss; it is a crisis of faith brought on by physical deterioration.
As Mostefa’s mental state deteriorates, disturbing incidents begin to manifest in their lives. These events are unsettling—sometimes accompanied by strange occurrences and occasionally marked by unusual annotations of Qur’anic verses, reflecting the turmoil unfolding within the home. The story reveals a poignant parallel: whether facing personal anxieties about life’s major transitions or confronting spiritual upheaval, the human experience often involves wrestling with forces that lie beyond ordinary understanding. It highlights how vulnerability—whether physical, mental, or spiritual—can bring forth some of the most intense and unforgettable human dramas.
Credit: Eye For Film
