Akerke Muratova's Journey from Darkness to Light: A Pre-Birth Memory and Reunion with Her Mother

The Memory Before Birth

Before we understand what happened to Akerke Muratova in that glowing apartment, we need to go back further. Much further. To a time before she was born.

Akerke was raised by her grandparents in a small village in Kazakhstan until she was four. Her biological parents were teenagers who'd moved to the city for work, leaving her behind. When her mother finally came to visit and introduced herself, Akerke wouldn't call her mother. She called her sister. Her mother was upset. She had Akerke's baby brother in her arms, and she went to another room to breastfeed him.

Akerke sat quietly watching, and suddenly recalled everything. Her pre-birth memories. Why she was here. All the abilities she'd forgotten. They came flooding back.

She told her mother what she remembered. She was in darkness, in a black tunnel. She didn't have a body. She didn't feel anything around her, no space, no time. Just a tiny white dot at the end of the tunnel, getting closer. "I felt like I was putting in a trance as if I was falling asleep," she says.

She stopped. "Wait, wait, where am I going?" she asked.

A gentle presence appeared. She couldn't see her, but she could feel what she was saying, the words moving through her head. "You're going to planet earth," the presence said.

"All right, yes, planet earth," Akerke replied. It seemed familiar, as if she should know about earth already. The presence kept saying, "Yep, it's about time, keep moving."

The light grew brighter. Inside it, Akerke saw three ladies. A labor scene. Her mother giving birth. "They were noisy and yelling and screaming and I didn't know what was happening so I was excited," she recalls. She heard a word: "kiz." She asked what it meant. The gentle presence explained: in that language, kiz means girl. You're going to be born as a girl.

The presence started explaining the difference between boys and girls, how Akerke could become a mother herself one day, how she could bring another life into the world. "I was like wow, I can bring another life, and that seemed lovely to me," Akerke says. "I kept saying wow, that's beautiful, lovely, I am so excited, I can't wait to be there."

But she was still hesitating. She didn't know what she was getting into.

The presence started fading as Akerke got sucked into the bright light. The last words she heard: "Dear child, please don't forget me. Don't forget us. You are always, always protected. You're always guided. You can do it. We will watch over you. We love you and you will be loved and welcomed. Trust us."

"Okay, I will remember you, thank you," Akerke said.

She got sucked into the light. She was in the body of a baby. "I hated it. I didn't like it. I was like, oh, it's stiff. I couldn't move it. I couldn't control it," she remembers. She felt uneasy, as if she shouldn't be here.

But then a lady put her on her mother's chest.

"The bliss and enlightenment you felt when you met the source and you were on the other side, that's what I felt when they put me on my mother's chest," Akerke says. She couldn't understand what her mother was saying because she didn't know the language yet. But energetically, she felt her mother's intention: I love you. I will protect you.

"I felt so happy, so grateful," Akerke says. "And I said, oh wow, they were right. I am loved. I am welcomed. And I'm so happy to be here. I'm so happy and excited."

She told her mother this story when she was four. Her mother didn't say much. She came from a family of healers, women who had prophetic dreams and psychic abilities. She didn't deny what Akerke said. She just replied, "Okay, yeah, it was probably a dream, but all right."

The Gifts That Returned

After that memory returned, Akerke's abilities came back. She could get out of her body. She could talk to animals and plants telepathically. She'd rush to bed excited, thinking, "I can't wait to fly." She'd get frustrated because the animals and plants understood her telepathic messages, but her grandparents didn't. "I would come over to my grandparents and tell them, you know, everyone can understand me when I send them a message, but you're not getting it," she recalls. They'd tell her no, you have to speak up. But she'd insist: plants understand me, animals understand me.

She had a prophetic dream. She saw her grandparents' deaths and her biological father's death. They would die close to each other in time. She was excited to share this with her mother. She sat her down and said, "You're going to die." As a kid, she didn't know how to deliver these things. "I said, well, my grandparents are gonna die soon and my father is gonna die soon too. You're gonna stay with us for some time with me and my brother and then you're gonna die too and then it will be left me and my brother," Akerke remembers. Her mother sat there wide-eyed and said, "All right, keep going."

Soon after that dream, it happened exactly that way. Her father died suddenly in an accident. Her grandparents passed away. Akerke was left with her uncle.

The Dark Years

From age five to seven, Akerke lived with her uncle and his wife. It was the most traumatic time of her life. After her grandparents' death, her uncle couldn't stop drinking. He abused her physically. "I was facing death," she says simply.

But even as a kid, she wasn't scared of him. She could see how much sadness he carried, how much of a hard time he was having. She had compassion for him. And she had her guides. She didn't know they were called guides or angels. Her family wasn't religious. She'd never heard about God or angels. She had no books or TV.

"I had this plant, and from this plant these little people came, and they would visit me and they would tell me where to hide when my uncle was drinking," Akerke says. They'd send her messages: go hide in the barn. Rush here. Go to this person. Animals would hide her. They'd tell her, come here.

She felt grateful. She didn't realize it was extraordinary. She thought it was normal.

One day, she was about to be killed. She talked to the little people and said, "Please let me leave, please save me. I don't want to die. I want to be an adult. I want to experience everything. I want to live a life. I want to live long."

Somehow, something happened to her uncle. He started apologizing and crying. Akerke escaped. She ran to her neighbor's house, borrowed their big brick phone, and called her mother. "Please save me. I'm scared. Please save me. I don't want to die. I think I will die if you leave me here," she said. Her mother didn't know what had been happening. She was shocked. She took Akerke to the city to live with her.

Akerke lived with her mother until she was seventeen. Her mother remarried, had another child. Akerke was introduced to Islam through her stepdad, but she had no interest. She couldn't understand the concept of hell. "Why would people go to hell? Why would you do that? Why would they go to hell if they were created by the creator?" she'd ask. She was skeptical.

When Akerke was seventeen, her mother had a spiritual awakening. She was glowing. She started her own business. She was happy. She shared knowledge with Akerke about manifestation, about how thoughts work, about universal love. Akerke didn't understand at the time. "Yeah, yeah, sure," she'd say.

Then her mother had a prophetic dream. She saw her own death. A week before she died, she sat Akerke and her brother down and told them, "I'm leaving earth. My time is finished. My time has come up." She gave them a step-by-step plan: go to the bank, go to this place, sign these papers. Everything was detailed. They said, "Wait, what are you talking about?" They didn't take her seriously.

But deep inside, Akerke felt it was true. She'd had a dream of her mother's death as a child. She knew it was going to happen.

When it did happen, it collapsed everything. Akerke's entire personality had been built around her mother. All her goals were attached to her: I'll become an adult and support her. I'll let my mom travel the world. I'll pay my mom's bills. Everything crashed.

The Spiral Down

Akerke moved to Australia with her stepdad and two siblings. They spent all their money getting visas and moving to a new country. For five years, it was challenge after challenge. Major depression. Severe social anxiety. She couldn't talk to people without shaking and stuttering. She started working in hospitality to learn the language and make money. She faced bullying, mistreatment, racial discrimination. She had poverty and financial difficulties. There were months they went without food.

It was a closed loop: work, study, bullying, mistreatment, work, study. "I felt like I wasn't moving at all. I was stuck in this one place," she says.

She had multiple suicide attempts. "I honestly didn't believe in God at the time. I thought this is something that doesn't exist, because if he existed, he wouldn't give me these hardships, he wouldn't take my mother," she recalls. She blamed everything but herself.

One day, she finished work late. She was taking a night walk. She sat under the moon, crying. "I felt this urge to ask the moon for help. I said, well, if there is a God, please help me now. I need you now. I don't know where it's going. I don't know where my life's going. I don't see the point of my life," Akerke says.

Her suicide attempts had always ended in failure. She said something like, "If you saved me so many times, there must be a reason, so show me that reason please."

She made a promise: "If you exist, and if you want to help me, I am willing to change and I'm willing to put effort and change."

The Visitation

Soon after that, Akerke came home from work and went to sleep. She woke up in her mother's arms, sitting on her lap like a baby, held close to her mother's chest.

She was stunned. She'd never hugged her mother while she was alive. That was the reason for her depression: she never showed her mother affection, never said I love you.

Now her mother was holding her, hugging her. Akerke started looking around. They were in their old apartment. Everything was beautiful. "The colors of my apartment were different. Everything was shining, glowing, and colorful," she says.

She started touching everything. The floor. It existed. She started touching her mother, tapping on her shoulder, poking her. "I couldn't understand if it was real, and she felt realistic. She was alive. She felt warm," Akerke recalls. "I said, wow, you're real."

Then she said, "Oh, that can't be true. This can't be happening. You're dead. You passed away. You left me."

Her mother didn't say anything. She had this caring, peaceful look. "She was giggling, like she was laughing at my reaction, as if she already expected me to react this way," Akerke says.

Akerke looked into her mother's eyes to check if she was real. "The entire universe was in her eyes. It was so beautiful. I was like, wow, that's so fascinating," she says.

Her mother looked youthful. She looked so happy. "She never looked that youthful. I remember her when she was 35, but she looked 18," Akerke says. Her mother was glowing. She had a white halo around her, a white aura. She was wearing only white. "She basically looked like an angel, if that's what people described as angels," Akerke says. "I said, wow, you're so beautiful."

Akerke kept hugging her because she didn't want the dream to end. "I said, oh, so this must be a dream, right? If this is a dream, I don't want it to end," she recalls. She started hugging her mother tightly. "Please don't go."

She said, "My life was so hard without you. I missed you so much."

And then, finally, she said it: "I love you."

Her mother was patting her, tapping on her shoulder, as if saying, it's okay, it's okay.

Akerke looked up. "I saw this bright light we were sitting under. It was beautiful. It was just pure love and bliss, just above us, and it was filling me and her as well," she says. "What I felt was like a healing, probably."

Slowly, as her mother patted her, "every memory of earth was fading away," Akerke says. She started thinking: what if earth was a dream? What if I'm dead right now? What if this is heaven? "I don't mind if this is heaven. I like it."

She remembers thinking, "Yeah, it must be. This is it. Because this is so realistic, and I wouldn't be surprised if this is actually afterlife."

Slowly, she felt like she was healing. She tried to hold on to her mother as tightly as possible.

But she woke up. She was in her bed. "Dang, so this was a dream," she said.

But she felt warmth in her left hand, the hand she'd been holding her mother with. "It's as if someone was still holding," she says. She started crying. "Maybe someone's holding me. So this was real. It wasn't a dream."

The Transformation

"I never believed in God or angels or guides, so it was hard for me to acknowledge that this happened, but it did," Akerke says. "And I felt something different about me after that."

The survival mode she'd been living in was gone. The depression was gone. The social anxiety was gone. The eating disorder was gone. "I forgot everything about my old self," she says. "As if I just arrived to earth and I started re-learning about everything."

She detached from everything she'd learned in 23 years on earth. She had to relearn it all with a fresh mindset. "I felt so light. My body was light. I felt glowing. I felt like I was shining," she says.

People reacted to her differently. They started loving her. "They would look at me differently. They would see the glow," Akerke recalls. "I started noticing how once I step in a room, people would just stare at me. Everyone in the room would notice it."

For 23 years, she'd felt like she had blindfolds on. When they were taken off, she didn't know what she was seeing or experiencing.

Her abilities came back: telepathy, out-of-body experiences, enhanced intuition. She recalled past lives. She had prophetic dreams. Each night, she'd get out of her body and fly.

The first time she got out of her body after the visitation, "my astral body just got out. I looked at my physical body just laying on my bed and I said, wow, I am finally out. I felt the relief. I was laughing. I said, I'm finally out of that funny guy," Akerke says.

She went flying. She went to the moon. She came back to earth. She jumped on clouds, hugging every cloud. "I had this aha moment where I said, how could I forget that this is me? How could I forget?" she recalls.

She looked back at earth. She still felt she should go back. There was something unfinished. She had deep love and deep compassion for earth. "I said, wow, you are so beautiful. You're doing so well. Are you doing so well? I will come back to help. I will come back, but let me have fun here," she told the earth.

She visited different countries. She observed people: some upset, some angry, some joyful, some going through challenges, some busy with life. "I remember just being fascinated and thinking, wow, this is so exciting. This is what life is about. This is the journey. This is an experience," Akerke says.

She felt the urge to experience human life again. "I can't wait to go back to my body. And now with the knowledge of who I am, now I know who I am, I can go back. So I was excited to start the journey with this knowledge I had."

The Soul Reunions

For five nights straight after the visitation, Akerke had out-of-body experiences. Each night, people who were still alive on earth would come to her room. One of them was her uncle, the one who'd abused her. She'd get out of her body to meet them. They'd say, "Let's go for a walk." They'd take her to a beautiful forest.

"Every soul I met, they apologized," Akerke says. These were people she'd been angry at, people who'd mistreated or bullied her. "I thought they were bad people. However, when their souls showed up, each one of them apologized."

But she didn't feel the grudge anymore. "I had so much love towards them and they had so much love towards me. I felt like we were a family, like we were this soul family," she says. "I had this feeling like, oh, I've known them for so long and they love me so much. And why would I have grudge towards them? I remember saying, why would I be angry at you? I love you."

They all said the same thing. They asked her to remember: "You know that it wasn't our true self who hurt you. Our true nature would never hurt you. My uncle said, I would never hurt you, my love. I would never do that. I wasn't myself. Please remember that," Akerke recalls.

She understood. She couldn't explain it, but she had so much love. "Of course I know. This is all, you know, reacting."

She'd wake up each morning and write down what they said. She started researching what they meant by "this isn't our true nature." What's the true nature, then?

Telephathic messages started flowing to her. She doesn't know from who: her higher self, her guides, her mom. But whenever she asked a question, they'd send her a message.

She asked, "What's the point of my life?" The message came back: "Love." "I felt it through my body and I said, wow. I was like, wow, this is so simple. Everything's so simple in life. It's easy. How could we forget it?" Akerke says.

She went to her partner and brother to explain: the point of life is love. We came to learn about love. They didn't get it. So she asked for more clarity.

She was in the library. A voice sent her a name: "Albert." She said it out loud. Her Google assistant picked it up and took her to Albert Einstein's Wikipedia page. She thought, maybe I should read about Albert Einstein.

She asked the librarian for a book. The librarian gave her the first one she liked: "Cosmic View" by Albert Einstein. Akerke fell in love with how Einstein saw the world, how he saw beauty in everything, how he wouldn't deny any religion. He said if you ask what his religion was, it was cosmic religion. "I remember just laughing at it and thinking, oh, this is great. I'll also be part of this cosmic religion," Akerke says.

But she still didn't have the answer. Then she came across Einstein's letter to his daughter. His last letter. In it, he explained the most powerful force in the entire universe: love. "He explains to his daughter, love is the most powerful force in the universe. Every creation starts with love. Love conquers all, transcends everything. And for love we live, for love we die, and love is within everyone," Akerke says.

She cried while reading it. She needed this clear answer. They gave her this letter.

The Guides Appear

One night, Akerke got out of her body unintentionally. She had no purpose. She was just hanging around the house, going through walls, touching doors, trying to see what she could do.

She remembered she had about twenty questions written down in her notepad for her guides. She needed clarity. She needed answers in clear words. She started wondering: could she ask them to show up in the astral realm? She'd never done it before.

"I said something like, well, my guides, it's time for you to show up if you think I'm ready and if you think you can give me answers. Please show up. Please, please do it," Akerke says. She didn't expect it. She was just giving it a try.

But they did. The roof of her house started opening. A triangular craft showed up. She'd seen this craft in Australia before. It would just show up and disappear. The same craft appeared now.

"I was like, wow, this is so cool," she says. She started floating inside, towards the craft. They were picking her up. She felt excited. She had no fear.

She got in. Two light beings met her. They welcomed her. She said, "Do I have time to ask questions? I have so many." They said, "Don't worry about time."

Her first question was about her past lives. She'd had glimpses of them. She remembered dying in those lives and felt sadness around them. She asked if she had any karmic debts related to those past lives.

They told her, "Those past lives you have to disregard them because they're not related to your current life at all. That circle was finished. It is a very, very distant memory you have. And this is your first life on earth," Akerke recalls.

She asked, "What do you mean by first life?"

They said, "It's your first volunteered life. You chose to come and help."

"Help with what?" she asked.

They explained: she and so many souls like her came willingly to help raise the frequency of earth so we can shift from old earth to new earth faster. "The earth is doing it on her own. She's moving herself. But we are just additional help, and we are helping her to move. And also we're helping other souls to awaken, just provoking awakening," Akerke says.

She asked about her personal purpose. They said, "You are doing great. Whatever you are doing, it's all in the plan you signed up for." To her surprise, they were proud of her. She didn't feel like she was doing much.

They told her she was excited to choose this life. She was very committed. She said, "I can do it, I want to do it." Akerke believed them. She remembered how when she got out of her body, she still felt the urge to go back to earth and help.

They told her: "Your personal purpose is raising the vibration."

She asked, "What can I do? What can I do more? What should I do from my side?"

They said, "You don't do. You be."

She was confused. "Huh?"

They told her to be herself. To discover herself. To love herself. To show love to others. To show what it's like being authentic, having dreams, being loving and caring and compassionate. "They told me that's what you're supposed to do. You're supposed to create your heaven. You are creating your heaven on earth," Akerke says. "By creating your own heaven, by treating yourself the best way it's possible, people around you will be inspired by you and they will be happy. And you are provoking awakening in them."

They said she might not notice it, but wherever she goes, some people will have changes in them. They won't even notice it. She won't notice it. "It's not something you have to notice. You don't need to pay attention to it," they told her.

All the volunteers with similar purposes would do the same thing all around the world. "They would create their heaven all around the world, and that's how we would shift to new earth. That's how we would connect," Akerke says.

While they explained it, the plan seemed very clear. The new earth and the old earth. "I remember thinking, yeah, that's actually going to work. This is going to work."

What This Tells Us

Akerke Muratova's story is one of the most complete accounts I've encountered. It spans pre-birth memory, childhood psychic abilities, trauma, suicidal depression, a transformative visitation, and ongoing contact with guides. It's a story that shows us the full arc: we choose to come here, we forget why, we suffer, and then, if we ask for help, we're reminded.

The detail about her mother looking eighteen instead of thirty-five is one of the most commonly reported features of afterlife reunions. The deceased appear at their prime, radiant, healed. The universe visible in her mother's eyes, the white aura, the angelic appearance—these match thousands of other accounts.

What strikes me most is the simplicity of the answer Akerke received when she asked about the point of life: love. Not complicated theology. Not rules or rituals. Just love. Albert Einstein's letter to his daughter said the same thing: love is the most powerful force in the universe. Every creation starts with love.

Akerke's guides told her she doesn't have to do anything. She just has to be. Be herself. Love herself. Create her own heaven on earth. By doing that, she inspires others. She provokes awakening without even trying.

This is the message so many experiencers bring back. We're not here to achieve or accumulate. We're here to love. We're here to be authentic. We're here to create joy and beauty and connection. That's how we raise the vibration. That's how we help the world shift.

Akerke's pre-birth memory is also significant. She remembers being told, "You are always, always protected. You're always guided. You can do it. We will watch over you. We love you and you will be loved and welcomed." This is what we're told before we come here. We forget it. But it's still true. We are always protected. We are always guided. We are always loved.

The soul reunions with people who hurt her—including her uncle who abused her—show us something profound about forgiveness. Their souls apologized. They said it wasn't their true nature who hurt her. Their true nature would never hurt her. This is the deepest truth: the harm we do to each other comes from pain, from disconnection, from forgetting who we are. Our true nature is love. When we return to that, we remember. We apologize. We reconnect.

Akerke's story also shows us that we choose our lives. We sign soul contracts. Some parts are unavoidable. But we gain free will. We can change. We can awaken. And if we choose not to awaken in this life, that's okay too. We go back to our souls. We're given another choice. We can reincarnate on new earth or on different planets, different timelines, different realities. There's no judgment. There's only love and infinite possibility.

What Akerke experienced after her mother's visitation—the loss of depression, anxiety, and survival mode, the return of telepathy and astral projection, the glow people noticed—this is what happens when we reconnect with who we really are. We're not meant to live in fear and struggle. We're meant to live in joy and connection. We're meant to fly.

Akerke is now a content creator, singer, songwriter, and artist. She shares her story and her light with the world. She's doing exactly what her guides told her to do: being herself, loving herself, creating her heaven on earth. And by doing that, she's helping all of us remember who we are and why we're here.

We came here to love. That's the curriculum. That's the teacher. That's the entire point. And when we forget, when we're drowning in darkness and despair, all we have to do is ask for help. The help will come. The light will come. Our loved ones will come. And we'll remember: we are eternal. We are loved. We are never, ever alone.