Samson had a frightening dream as a 12-year-old boy where he found himself at a table surrounded by strange adults who were transforming into beasts. He woke up with pain in his neck and finger bleeding. His parents and pastor attributed it to spiritual attack. Years later, the narrator believes he solved the mystery by noticing a protruding nail by Samson's bed that likely cut his finger as he slept, not a spiritual attack as originally believed.

1. I HAVE THE ANSWER
A tall white man is sitting at the end of the long
table. Samson is not scared of his mean looking face
although he is feeling he should be. He is thinking that his
bravery is because of the man’s spectacles as he cannot see
his eyes and understand the message they convey. He touches
his chest to feel his heart beat and smiles at the response
he is getting. He is not sure of the number of people seated
around the table but can clearly see the black suits and
dresses everyone has on except himself.
There is an Indian woman seated next to the tall
man, he could tell by her look and that common Indian dot
marking on her forehead. Beside her is an Old Italian man
who is talking like Al Pacino and a skinny looking Albino
smiling at a fat Jew. Excluding other individuals and not
forgetting the beautiful blonde haired Caucasian seated
beside him, the sexes of the Albino and the Jew, he does not
know.
He has seen this kind of banquette before, where
Paris met Helen in the movie “Troy” but here, there are no
swords, no bear skins nor shield nor wineskins. There are no
whores, no coins, no candles on chandeliers, no Reindeer
horns, no generals nor fathers hugging sons. There is
neither Roman, Greek nor Irish theme song, no music of
whatever form, just the constant chatter of well-dressed and

2. civilized individuals, seated in a much more conducive hall
with several sculptures and paintings hanging on its walls.
Three clap sounds preceded a sudden silence. All
attention is on the tall white man at the opposite end of
Samson’s seat. He removes his shade, places it on the table
and takes a long but quick gaze at those on his left, to his
right and finally towards Samson. Samson’s hanging legs
further withdraw from the ground towards the chair on which
he’s seated, his bladder suddenly hurts and he needs to pee.
He is now frightened of the white man’s gaze, of his eyes
and its fiery yellow blaze. He shifts his small butt
nervously and slowly scans the faces of all and sundry who
seem to be staring and smiling at him. This makes him
nervous and a question pops in his head. What is a black,
twelve year old Ijesha boy doing in the midst of these
mature Europeans and the Asian?
He is still the center of attention now as no one seem to
want to do anything other than stare at him, and the more he
felt their gaze on him, the more uncomfortable he became.
He hears the blonde haired lady beside him hiss, he
screams when she opens her mouth to reveal a forked tongue
between numerous, serrated and yellowish looking teeth. He
takes a quick glance at everyone; they all seem to be
turning from human into beasts. He jumps from his chair and
head towards the door, he hears the rustling of feet and
more hisses behind him. He looks back as a hand grabs him by

3. the neck with yellow blazing eyes staring at his frightened
face. “You are going nowhere” the tall white man says as
slimy secretions drool from his lips on Samson’s chubby
cheek. The tall man claws at Samson’s ring finger, he
screams as blood starts to flow and tears run down his face.
They all laugh and continue to laugh at him until he wakes
from his sleep on his bed in a remote area of Abeokuta to a
radio programme where the presenters are laughing at a
cracked joke.
He cleans the saliva on his cheek, it seems to have
flowed towards his ear, the clock strikes and he turns to
check the time. His neck hurts, it hurts every time he tries
to turn and he panics as his dream slowly replays itself in
his thoughts. He takes the cover sheet off his body, his
finger hurts as he does and when he raises his hurt hand
towards his face, he sees coagulated blood.
He tells the dream to his mother; she already knows the
attack is spiritual and reports to her husband who calls the
church pastor to the house.
The pastor says serious prayers are needed, the boy is in
grave danger, his parents have sinned, defaulted in tithing
and are seeing God’s anger. A seven days fasting was
organized and Samson over a week cried more from hunger than
the alleviating pain from his neck and finger. He regretted
telling his dream to his parents as he was tired of kneeling

4. in the midst of white robed individuals binding and loosing
things in names and languages he wasn’t sure existed.
Samson is twenty two years now and we laugh about
that incident from time to time. I slept beside him that
night, took his pillow for myself while he was fast asleep.
While I have been able to help him solve the mystery of that
neck pain, his bloodied finger then still carries a visible
scar today. What caused the tear, he does not know.
Did I do it? No. I did not and as unpredictable as I am, I
will not cut my elder brother’s finger for fun, to create a
story or for whatever reason.
Three years ago however, I smiled when something beside his
bed caught my attention. I am yet to tell him out of respect
for my parents and the step they took and because of their
preconceived ideas and excessive believe in the meta-
physical but I am convinced it was the reason why his finger
bled.
I believe he is yet to see the sharp protruded end of the
nail beside the bunk that snagged him on his ring finger
that day and even if he already has, he is yet to piece the
puzzle together I suppose.
He had cut himself while tossing and turning. If I am wrong,
so be it. However, that protruded nail is still the only
answer i have and my best analytic effort at solving that
mystery till date.
Afolabi Oluwaseun Johnson