Popobawa "Help me," Dr. Makan Ouzin cried weakly to no avail. He was alone in bed, his wife and grown children late in returning from a village festival. The pummeling was like a torrential rain on his ribs and back, but worst of all was the sense that the last breath was being sucked from his lungs. And there was nothing to grab, to fight, because whatever pinned him to the mattress was invisible. Footsteps in the hallway. "Father!" A voice screamed and Dr. Ouzin's strapping 25-year-old son Baba charged into the bedroom. "It is Popobawa!" The dreaded night creature, that's what was trying to kill him, Dr. Ouzin realized. Invisible to those it assaulted. Hideously ugly to those witnessing the carnage. In attacks throughout Zanzibar, Popobawa had been described as a bizarre, elf-like entity with a single eye in the center of its head, small, pointed ears, bat wings and talons. Most of its victims were male and required treatment in hospitals for broken ribs, bruises and festering wounds where they had been raked by the talons. Baba grabbed a solid ebony stool by its leg and swung it against the Popbawa's flank. A sickening crunch. The animal howled and bounded out through the open window through which it had obviously arrived. When Dr. Ouzin regained consciousness, he was in the hospital where he usually did his rounds. Three broken ribs and numerous bruises about his torso made breathing a torment. But at least he was alive. Like other men who had survived the Popobawa--Swahili words for bat and wing--he reported the incident to the proper authorities. Because, as with each of its victims, Popobawa ordered them tell what had happened--or it would be back. There is no known defense against Popobawa attack, other than by banding together. Fearful citizens often sleep outside, locked arm-in-arm, to prevent one of their number from being dragged away. It is estimated that there are about 125 living Popobawa and its range is expanding to include urban areas.