Healing runs in my family! My grandfather was also a healer. He lived through WWII, traveled the Libyan desert when he was only a preteen and intuitively knew his goat wanted to die. Read on for my energy healing lineage.
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My grandfather from my dad’s side is a Libyan healer. He was born in Wadi Ataba or Um Hammam (وادي عتبة أو ام الحمام) in the south of Libya and lived through WWII, the Italian occupation and the Libyan kingdom. He spoke Italian and worked for them as a carpenter. He then worked as a gardener in the Central Libyan Hospital, followed by the UK Army Hospital. The Mosque was his basic schooling, where he learned to read and write the Quran. From that point on a love of books flourished in him, passing onto my dad and me. Like all healers my grandfather Mohamed Baghdadi was tested! His sister died at age six and his parents died when he was eleven. His relatives from his mother’s side were money hungry and they went after his parents’ property; accusing him of killing his sister. Driven out he walked the Libyan desert to Tunisia as a pre-teen, in search for his uncles from his father’s side. He did not find them, but found kind people from his village. He stayed in Tunisia for a while, then Libya called and he answered. Tripoli is where he first laid eyes on my grandmother Mabrouka. He swore in that moment that he would marry her, though she was above his class. They married, but divorced after around twenty years and my grandfather remarried, so I have a half uncle and aunt. The divorce split the family and my dad being the eldest son lived with his father at age thirteen. My dad told me about how his father healed, went to Hadara حضرة (spiritual trance gatherings) and how he assisted his goat to die.
Many people visited my grandfather. He was known as the community healer. His clients mainly wanted help with domestic challenges: problems with a partner, sick kids, self-esteem, etc. He would listen attentively to them, then open a religious book, stare at it for a while, then he would jot down a writing and give it to them to sleep on, or wear as a pendent. Clients did not know what my grandfather wrote, but trusted that the healing had begun. He only performed high vibrational healing. Clients who wanted him to perform black magic were sent home; “look for someone else, I’m here to help people” he would decisively tell them. My grandfather also went to Hadara in the Mosque. People would sit around singing a religious song repeatedly to enter trance.
Finally the goat that wanted to die. My grandfather lived in a Libyan style house with his new wife Salima. She was an active and practical person like him. The architecture consists of a main sitting room in the middle of the house, from it spring a number of rooms, toilet and kitchen; and a flat, semi-sheltered roof on the second floor. I fondly remember a grapevine that grew from the sitting room up to the roof. It was lovely! The second floor is where the goat and the other animals lived (chickens, rabbits, tortoises, sheep, etc.). The goats would come down from the roof, leave through the main house entrance to a nearby field to graze. They would come back in the evening and head upstairs to sleep. One day when they all went up, one goat came down and stood near my grandfather. He intuitively sensed that the goat wanted to depart our world, so he kindly assisted its spirit to journey on.
This is my energy healing lineage. I do not know how my grandfather discovered himself as a healer, or when he started to practice. From my own experience, a healer is always a healer and the individual can either embrace it fully, or let the ability/calling simmer in the background. I do not know of anyone else who heals among my relatives from my dad or mum’s side, but there might be those who did it unconsciously.
My grandmother Mabrouka making traditional tea. The tea is bitter with freshly toasted peanuts in it.