Al-Asabaa: No Answers Until the Jinn Speaks!
In the quiet mountaintop town of Al-Asabaa in Libya’s western mountains, dozens of homes have mysteriously caught fire over the past few days. With no clear cause, the town has suddenly joined the global list of places shrouded in folklore and paranormal tales. As in similar incidents elsewhere, residents quickly blamed the supernatural jinn, black magic, or the evil eye avoiding any scientific or rational explanation. This rush toward mysticism isn’t new. It reflects an ancient and ongoing struggle between the human mind’s fascination with mystery and the mundane simplicity of objective truth.
Humans have always attributed what they couldn’t explain to unseen forces. Since the dawn of civilization, people worshipped the sun, moon, rain, thunder, and other natural phenomena, not out of reverence, but because they couldn’t understand them. Instead of investigation, they opted for narratives immune to disproof. And while these ideas contradict the teachings of the Qur’an, in Libya the land of a million Quran memorizers the holy book is often used not for reflection, but as a charm or incantation to ward off evil spirits, rather than to understand the immutable laws of the universe: “You will never find any change in the way of God.”
History is full of similar episodes. In 17th-century Salem, Massachusetts, townsfolk suffered from mass hallucinations. The community, unable to comprehend what was happening, accused women of witchcraft. Dozens were executed drowned or hanged based on suspicion alone. Years later, it was discovered that the symptoms were likely caused by ergot poisoning from contaminated bread, a fungus now known to trigger hallucinations. Ironically, that same fungus has since become a source of profit in the modern drug trade without anyone accusing today’s dealers of witchcraft.
Other “supernatural” events abductions, mysterious fires, and possessions have been repeatedly debunked as hoaxes or psychological phenomena. Yet people continue to prefer magical explanations. Why? Because reality is boring and myth is thrilling.
Unexplained fires, in particular, have recurred across history. Each time, rational causes electrical malfunctions, gas leaks, chemical reactions were ultimately found. But public interest rarely follows those dull truths.
So why do people cling to supernatural theories?
The answer varies by culture and individual, but generally, the human brain abhors a vacuum. When there’s no clear explanation, we fill the void with stories that satisfy our curiosity especially in societies where scientific literacy is weak. In such settings, myth offers drama. A tale of jinn avenging their slain king in a mountain cave is far more compelling than a dry report on methane leaks or faulty wiring.
Add to that the benefit of avoiding accountability. Identifying the cause of a disaster might expose systemic failures decaying infrastructure, negligence, or lack of preparedness. Local authorities, reluctant to take blame, often soothe public anxiety by blaming “evil forces,” making the citizen feel like a helpless victim of unseen enemies, rather than a victim of institutional failure.
In the case of Al-Asabaa, potential explanations like aging electrical networks or gas leaks especially after recent seismic activity seem plausible. But such hypotheses are barely discussed, because they don’t feed our collective hunger for legends.
In the age of social media, wild theories are profitable. What’s a mundane electrical fire next to a viral story of demonic revenge? Flashy videos and eerie sound effects spread faster than facts. The problem is that this trend deepens public ignorance and distracts from real solutions. Instead of dispatching forensic investigators, some citizens call for “spiritual committees” to bless the town against the wrath of angry jinn.
Ironically, this practice goes against the same Qur’an being used to “fight the jinn.” Progress comes not from fear, but from curiosity from replacing superstition with investigation. And maybe, soon enough, scientific teams will uncover the true cause of the Al-Asabaa fires. But the sad truth is: many won’t believe it. Because truth is boring. Myths are fun.
These fires will likely continue to ignite questions long after they’re extinguished. Even when the dust of superstition clears, many will remain captivated by legends that offer comfort in chaos. But the Qur’an so often wielded like a charm offers something greater than protection spells. It invites us to think:
Travel through the earth and observe how creation began.”
“In the creation of the heavens and the earth are signs for those of understanding.”
Can we really call ourselves “people of understanding” if we turn every fire into an act of jinn vengeance or worse, a devilish plot led by a mythical demon trapped in a mountain cave?
Perhaps the real fire is not in Al-Asabaa’s homes but in our refusal to think.