On the 8th of March 2014, MH370, a Boeing 777-200ER aeroplane, seemingly disappeared off the face of the Earth. Its disappearance had the world scratching its head. Months went by after the first search began, but nothing. It seemed impossible. How could a plane of that size just disappear?
Right when all hope seemed lost, one man stepped up to the plate: Raja Bomoh Sedunia Nujum VIP was his title (direct translation: Shaman King of the Astrology World). Ibrahim Mat Zain was his name. This man assured the world that he knew how to find MH370. With confidence, he (and his team) wielded coconuts, whilst chanting prayers on a “magical” carpet. What did he discover from this mystical ritual? MH370 had crashed near an island… somewhere. Incredible. The powers of true magic.
Obviously, the ritual did not really succeed in discovering the location of MH370. Even I could have guessed that it probably crashed somewhere near an island. In fact, that is one of the first few assumptions that most people had of the MH370 situation. Nonetheless, the ritual was recorded and became worldwide news.
It was a ridiculous situation. Rather than focusing efforts on the MH370 disappearance, attention was turned towards this ritual which depicted Malaysia in a bad light. No matter one’s opinion on the general existence of magic, in this case we can be sure it was definitely not real: Ibrahim, the shaman himself, admitted it was just an act and that he was ordered to do it. Yet, even though this incident drew worldwide infamy, shamanistic services and products are still prominent in Southeast Asia, specifically here in modern Singapore.
Singaporeans remain quite religious; 80% of Singaporeans report to have religious affiliations, according to Singapore Department of Statistics. This is especially so for the Malay-Muslim population, with 98.8% of Malays reported to be Muslim. Even with such strong religious beliefs, I would contend that most Singaporeans seek modern solutions as their first choice to solve whatever problem they face. When one is stricken with a fever, they go to a clinic. When one is facing extreme stress, go to a psychiatrist. For COVID-19, 93% of the population has been vaccinated with at least a single dose. I am confident to describe most Singaporeans as rational people, especially those in my age group (young adults).
Or at least, I used to be confident… before I realised that the market for black magic, and for magical items in general, was so prominent in Singapore.
As a Muslim growing up, I was aware of shamanistic practices from stories told by my parents, and from movies and TV shows. I never really took it as fact, nor did I deny its existence. I was always told by my parents to steer away from people who engaged in such activities or were in possession of “magical” items. I paid this advice no mind as I always assumed that Singapore was not that kind of place, at least not anymore. So, when I found out that this industry was in fact thriving, it came as a bit of a shock.
I could not wrap my head around why people were still adamant on involving themselves in such mystical practices. As I pondered this, two questions came up: Why do people go to these shamans for help? And, if magic is not real, why are there so many supporters for it?
For a couple weeks, I left these questions unanswered as I had other commitments. I essentially forgot about this topic until I coincidentally saw an ad while browsing the local marketplace app, Carousell.
The ad was for a love binding ritual done by a dukun (witch-doctor), and it had over 100 likes, with numerous positive testimonials from previous customers. It struck me as an odd conjunction of traditional thinking and modern technology: a practitioner of magic with ancient origins, advertised to the masses through a modern and different form of magic – the internet.
It wasn’t a one-off – there were numerous accounts advertising similar services and items. One in particular (pusaka.sg) has been active for the past seven years and has apparently experienced great success. The sheer number of accounts and listings in this industry showed me that this pseudo-black market was even more prevalent than I’d thought. As someone who never delved into these services (nor know anyone who did), I needed to consult a subject matter expert. That’s how I found Ustaz Ruknuddin.
Ustaz Ruknuddin is a Ruqyah practitioner with his own company, Khidmaat Al-Arkaan. He is a certified religious teacher of Islam who has been in practice for the past 3 years. Ruqyah itself can be simply defined as the recitation of Qur’an as a means of treating illnesses and other ailments. Looking at it from a complete outsider’s perspective, his practice is similar to the shaman’s, though is opposing in its morality and purpose (through the Islamic purview). No matter the case, Ustaz Ruknuddin explained why he believes the shamanistic practices take place, and the reasons why people engage such services:
…those who indulge [in shamanistic practices], are people with envy, or any other purpose.
He explained that the clientele often has something that they are insecure about or want to change, such as their attractiveness, likeability, wealth, or physical strength. Or it can be down to relationships; either wanting someone to like you back or causing a breakup between two individuals. In other words: human desire.
For the customers who wanted to be more handsome, more wealthy, or even physically stronger, these aspects of people are not fixed. Attractiveness can be changed though many other means: exercise, fashion sense, and humour. The same can be said for all the other attributes, though the extent of improvement differs greatly from person-to-person. But while these end goals can be achieved through other means, why do they opt for the shaman route. The answer is quite simple: It’s easy.
The reason that many people go for these services is that they are looking for a shortcut. Either they have tried to improve themselves before but to no avail, or they wanted changes to happen as quickly as possible. The process is shortened, and made easier for the consumer; however, for most situations there are consequences suffered. As the saying goes: “There are no shortcuts in life – only those we imagine.”
The reason for why there is such strong support in the Singapore context is that most of us are brought up religious, and commonly told of ‘true’ ghost stories. It is to the point that 68% of young adult Singaporeans believe in the existence of ghosts. This is despite the fact that research has found that higher education is associated with a lower tendency to believe in the supernatural. One theory might explain it: Existential Security Theory. This theory argues that higher feelings of security (correlated with higher education) reduce the likelihood for one to believe in the supernatural.
However, while Singapore is a well-educated society, there might be additional factors in the unique stance that Singapore has on race and religion. This is clearly depicted in Singapore’s national pledge:
“We, the citizens of Singapore, pledge ourselves as one united people, regardless of race, language or religion, to build a democratic society based on justice and equality so as to achieve happiness, prosperity and progress for our nation.”
Singapore is often described as a country with racial and religious harmony (the degree to which this is true is in itself contentious, but that is a different story). This harmony has been achieved through educating the masses on Singapore’s past mistakes; Maria Hertogh Riots, Communal Riots in 1964, and 1969. This idea of mutual existence between different races and religions have been ingrained in (most) Singaporeans since they were very young, and this translates to an accepting mindset in regard to spirituality and the supernatural. Hence the belief in the supernatural persists even amongst the highly educated in Singapore… and, as a consequence, the success of the black magic market on Carousell.
Coming back to that ad, how can there have been thousands of customers, but not much backlash in terms of its lack of effectiveness? Surely, there would be a few disappointed customers, or even just skeptical people going in to test the waters? I took a look at two of the most popular Carousell sellers: element.mustika & pusaka.sg. Both had essentially no negative reviews. I wondered if they might be removing negative reviews, or manipulating the ratings by inputting fake 5-star reviews, but that seems rather unlikely due to the rating system of Carousell:
Perhaps it could be that spending over S$100 (roughly £62) to prove an online seller wrong is a bit too much to expect of a casual skeptic. Especially considering that even one instance of debunking could hardly be enough to discredit the service in the eyes of the thousands of people who feel they have had positive experiences from it. Persuading the ardent believers is always an uphill struggle.
At this point, it is important to ask, therefore: is what these sellers are doing inherently wrong? These practices seem outdated from an outsider’s perspective, and we may even think that they are scamming people for money. But for many of the accounts, the sellers themselves do truly believe in the effectiveness of their goods and services. My biggest concern is where the practice hurts the consumer and community they are in (which has occurred before). But if not, I would just treat it exactly the same way we treat religion; believe what you believe in, just don’t force it onto me.
At the end of the day, these services are just one of many ways for people to satiate their human desires, as long as they’re not investing too much time or hope in the outcome. And you never know, maybe the rituals are what you need to become a millionaire overnight… though I won’t be pinning my hopes on that!
