About Sam

It has long been my intention to talk about probably the most important person in the make-up of Derek Acorah – Spirit Medium.

Most of you will be familiar with Sam, my Spirit Guide, having seen and heard me converse with him on television and radio whilst conducting telephone readings for callers to the various programmes in which I have been fortunate enough to take part. I have been asked on numerous occasions how it happened that I have Sam as my Spirit Guide, how we met and how we became so close.

The story begins over 2000 years ago when I was incarnated to this earth as a member of a family who lived in Ethiopia.  My family were very poor farmers – I was one of five children, having two brothers and two sisters.  We were all expected to help my mother and father to scratch a living from the barren Ethiopian area in which we lived.  I however, was a rebel, even in those far off days and often used to wander off on my own.

In those days many travellers used to pass through our village.  One of these men was well known to us all as he would frequently return.

His name was Masumai.  He used to speak to the villagers of times of change; the people were drawn to him to listen to his philosophies – why we were all here on this earth and what was expected of us.  It became evident to me, even at my young age, that he was blessed with special gifts – gifts which neither my father nor my mother had.

Although we were peaceful people, at times feuds would occur.  I remember the awful day when a large group of men invaded our village.

There was much screaming and shouting and some homes were set alight.  Many people were killed, my mother, father, brothers and sisters amongst them.  I escaped harm because I had wandered a short distance from the village and when I heard the noise, I hid in some bushes on the outskirts. When the noise subsided and night fell I crept back to my home which had escaped the fires of the invaders.  I was alone and terrified.  For the first time in my life I had no-one.  I was very tired and hungry and mortally afraid that the invaders would return.  My nine year old eyes had witnessed so much but eventually exhaustion took over and I slept.

I awoke in the morning and remember feeling all over again the shock, the aloneness and the isolation – all these emotions enveloped my young mind.  I crept out and managed to find a few scraps of food and a little water.  Gathering these together, I fled back to my home and piled some wood behind the door to prevent anybody opening it from the outside.  I stayed there on my own for three days.

On the fourth day I heard a loud noise outside our dwelling and someone shouted my name time and time again.  It was Masumai.  I ran to him, crying uncontrollably.  He put his arm round me and held me close whilst I relayed to him what had happened to our village.  He listened and held me tenderly and calmed me down.  Despite my sorrow I felt uplifted.  I was no longer alone.  Masumai explained that my family were beyond hurt now, that they were in a world where no harm could come to them and that one day, I would be reunited with them.  He told me that until that time came, he would be a father to me.

Masumai and I left the village and we walked to places I had never heard of.  The weeks, months and years of walking and being with Masumai, listening to him talking to people in far off regions of Ethiopia allowed me a deeper understanding of this great yet simple man.  We relied on the people of the villages to offer food and simple shelter to us in return for Masumai’s useful guidance.  Masumai told me that one day I would be like him, but “not yet,” as I was only 13 years old.

Months passed and we found ourselves in an area which was unknown even to Masumai.  He told me that he did not know the area or the people, so we would to be careful in our approach.  We discovered that they were not very friendly people and had no regard to the teachings of Masumai.  We decided that we would move on.  We both felt that these people could be similar to those who had attacked my village four years prior.  We carried on walking until we reached a small hill which had bushes on its slopes, and which would provide some cover for us for the night.  We were both very hungry.  Masumai asked me to find some small pieces of wood so that we could light a fire and at least be warm.  I moved further and further away until I reached the edge of the village through which we had passed earlier.  I noticed a delicious smell of fresh baked bread coming from one of the dwellings.  Although I knew it was wrong to steal, I thought of how hungry and tired Masumai had looked and how much he had helped me and cared for me.  I crawled very slowly up to a shelf where loaves of bread were on display.  I grabbed three small loaves and crawled away.

I was almost back to where Masumai and I had set up camp for the night when I heard shouting and screaming.  Before I knew it, I was surrounded by a circle of men.  I felt a harsh pain in my side and then in my leg.  I fell down.  I felt as though I was falling backwards, backwards….but at peace…No more pain.  I lost consciousness and my attackers obviously thought that I was dead as they left and went back to their village.

The next thing I remember is hearing the voice I loved and trusted.  It was Masumai.  He held me in his arms and cried, his tears falling on my chest.  I told him not to cry…that there was bread hidden in my clothes.

Masumai tried to stem the blood flow from my wounds but he knew that he could not save me.  He told me that I would have to come back to a new life and that when the time arrived, he would be by my side; my guiding influence from the heavenly side because, they that time, he too would have undertaken the journey I was about to make.  He told me that the stealing of the bread was a spiritual act because I had not stolen it for myself, but to help another “But” he said “There is a payment for all things.”

In my first book, “The Psychic World of Derek Acorah”, I have catalogued my early experiences with spirit.

I have told the story of the meeting with my grandfather who had passed to spirit years before I was born and of my grandmother’s realisation that I was the one who had inherited her mediumistic gifts.

From that day onwards my grandmother gently tutored me and explained the workings of the spirit world.  She taught me that we all have Spirit Guides and that I was no exception.  She told me that throughout my lifetime many guides would come and go as I progressed along my spiritual pathway but that my main guide was a black man from the Ehtiopian region of Africa and that he would never leave me; that one day he would introduce himself to me.

Many years passed during which time I was fortunate enough to realise my boyhood ambition of becoming a professional footballer with Liverpool Football Club under the management of the great Bill Shankly.  After leaving Liverpool I played for a number of teams and eventually ended my footballing career in Australia when, due to a knee injury, I had to retire from the world of football.

My first marriage to Joan had unfortunately failed and I was at a cross-roads in my life.  I was living on my own and although I was working as a full-time Spirit Medium I had not yet developed the gift of clairaudience.  This was about to change!

One evening I was in my home alone.  I had just completed my evening meditation and was sitting listening to some music.  Suddenly I heard a voice.  The voice said “Hello Derek”.  This was repeated four times.  The voice then said “Hello Derek” – “I’m Sam”.  Even though I was perfectly well aware that I was alone, I looked round expecting to see somebody.  There was nobody there!  Realisation dawned.  At last!

My Spirit Guide has spoken to me.  The words that my grandmother had uttered all those years ago had come true.

Long into that night we spoke to each other.  Sam explained to me that the impressions and images that I had been receiving over all the years of my development regarding my past life in Ethiopia were “flash backs” to a time gone by when we had travelled together after the loss of my family in a village feud.  He told me that he was fulfilling the promise he made 2000 years ago when he said that he would be my guiding influence from the heavenly side; that he would never forsake that young boy who had given his life in order that Masumai might eat.  But why “Sam” and not “Masumai you ask yourself.  The reason is simple. It is Sam’s wish that he be known by that name and not by the ancient name of “Masumai” of those long ago days in Ethiopia.  He knew that I would be reincarnated into a white, Western world and I would not go back to the country where we both met.