Things Fall Apart

by Chinua Achebe

  Okonkwo's first wife soon finished her cooking and set before their guests a big meal of pounded yams and bitter-leaf soup. Okonkwo's son, Nwoye, brought in a pot of sweet wine tapped from the raffia palm.

  "You are a big man now," Obierika said to Nwoye. "Your Iriend Anene asked me to greet you."

  "Is he well?" asked Nwoye.

  "We are all well," said Obierika.

  Ezinma brought them a bowl of water with which to wash their hands. After that they began to eat and to drink I he wine.

  "When did you set out from home?" asked Okonkwo.

  "We had meant to set out from my house before cockcrow," said Obierika. "But Nweke did not appear until it was quite light. Never make an early morning appointment with a man who has just married a new wife." They all laughed.

  "Has Nweke married a wife?" asked Okonkwo.

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  "He has married Okadigbo's second daughter," said Obierika.

  "That is very good," said Okonkwo. "I do not blame you for not hearing the cock crow."

  When they had eaten, Obierika pointed at the two heavy bags.

  "That is the money from your yams," he said. "I sold the big ones as soon as you left. Later on I sold some of the seed-yams and gave out others to sharecroppers. I shall do that every year until you return. But 1 thought you would need the money now and so I brought it. Who knows what may happen tomorrow? Perhaps green men will come to our clan and shoot us."

  "God will not permit it," said Okonkwo. "1 do not know how to thank you."

  "I can tell you," said Obierika. "Kill one of your sons for me.

  "That will not be enough," said Okonkwo.

  "Then kill yourself," said Obierika.

  "Forgive me," said Okonkwo, smiling. "I shall not talk about thanking you any more."

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  When nearly two years later Obierika paid an il •'• other visit to his friend in exile the circum stances were less happy. The missionaries had come to Umuofia. They had built their church there, won a handful of converts and were already sending evangelists to the surrounding towns and villages. That was a source of great sorrow to the leaders of the clan,– but many of them believed that ihe strange faith and the white man's god would not last. None of his converts was a man whose word was heeded in ihe assembly of the people. None of them was a man of title. They were mostly the kind of people that were called efuleju , worthless, empty men. The imagery of an efulefu in the language of the clan was a man who sold his machete and wore (lie sheath to battle. Chielo, the priestess of Agbala, called the converts the excrement of the clan, and the new faith was a mad dog that had come to eat it up.

  What moved Obierika to visit Okonkwo was the sudden appearance of the latter's son, Nwoye, among the missionaries ID Umuofia.

  "What are you doing here?" Obierika had asked when after many difficulties the missionaries had allowed him to speak to the boy.

  "1 am one of them," replied Nwoye.

  "How is your father?" Obierika asked, not knowing what else to say.

  "1 don't know. He is not my father," said Nwoye, unhappily.

  And so Obierika went to Mbanta to see his friend. And he found that Okonkwo did not wish to speak about Nwoye. It was only from Nwoye's mother that he heard scraps of the story.

  The arrival of the missionaries had caused a considerable stir in the village of Mbanta. There were six of them and one-was a white man. Every man and woman came out to see th< white man. Stories about these strange men had grown sim <• one of them had been killed in Abame and his iron horse tied to the sacred silk-cotton tree. And so everybody came to see the white man. It was the time of the year when everybody was at home. The harvest was over.

  When they had all gathered, the white man began l<> speak to them. He spoke through an interpreter who was an Ibo man, though his dialect was different and harsh to the enrs of Mbanta. Many people laughed at his dialect and the way In1 used words strangely. Instead of saying "myself" he always saul "my buttocks." But he was a man of commanding presence mull the clansmen listened to him. He said he was one of them, ,m they could see from his color and his language. The other (ourI

  black men were also their brothers, although one of them did not speak Ibo. The white man was also their brother because they were all sons of God. And he told them about this new God, the Creator of all the world and all the men and women. He told them that they worshipped false gods, gods of wood and stone. A deep murmur went through the crowd when he said this. He told them that the true God lived on high and that all men when they died went before Him for judgment. Evil men and all the heathen who in their blindness bowed to wood and stone were thrown into a fire that burned like palm-oil. But good men who worshipped the true God lived forever in His happy kingdom. "We have been sent by this great God to ask you to leave your wicked ways and faLe gods and turn to Him so that you may be saved when you die," he said.

  "Your buttocks understand our language," said someone light-heartedly and the crowd laughed.

  "What did he say?" the white man asked his interpreter. Hut before he could answer, another man asked a question: "Where is the white man's horse?" he asked. The Ibo evangelists consulted among themselves and decided that the man probably meant bicycle. They told the white man and he smiled benevolently.

  "Tell them," he said, "that I shall bring many iron horses when we have settled down among them. Some of them will even ride the iron horse themselves." This was interpreted to I hem but very few of them heard. They were talking excitedly .unong themselves because the white man had said he was H<>ing to live among them. They had not thought about that.

  At this point an old man said he had a question. "Which is this god of yours," he asked, "the goddess of the earth, the god of the sky, Amadiora or the thunderbolt, or what?"

  The interpreter spoke to the white man and he immediately gave his answer. "All the gods you have named are not gods at all. They are gods of deceit who tell you to kill your fellows and destroy innocent children. There is only one true God and He has the earth, the sky, you and me and all of us."

  "If we leave our gods and follow your god," asked another man, "who will protect us from the anger of our neglected gods and ancestors?"

  "Your gods are not alive and cannot do you any harm," replied the white man. "They are pieces of wood and stone."

  When this was interpreted to the men of Mbanta they broke into derisive laughter. These men must be mad, they said to themselves. How else could they say that Ani and Amadiora were harmless? And Idemili and Ogwugwu too? And some of them began to go away.

  Then the missionaries burst into song. It was one of those gay and rollicking tunes of evangelism which had the power of plucking at silent and dusty chords in the heart of an Ibo man. The interpreter explained each verse to the audience, some of whom now stood enthralled. It was a story of brothers who lived in darkness and in fear, ignorant of the love of God. It told of one sheep out on the hills, away from the gates of God and from the tender shepherd's care.

  After the singing the interpreter spoke about the Son of God whose name was Jesu Kristi. Okonkwo, who only stayed in the hope that it might come to chasing the men out of the village or whipping them, now said-.

  "You told us with your own mouth that there was only one god. Now you talk about his son. He must have a wife, then." The crowd agreed.

  "1 did not say He had a wife," said the interpreter, somewhat lamely.

  "Your buttocks said he had a son," said the joker. "So he must have a wife and all of them must have buttocks."

  The missionary ignored him and went on to talk about the Holy Trinity. At the end of it Okonkwo was fully convinced that the man was mad. He shrugged his shoulders and went away to tap his afternoon palm-wine.

  But there was a young lad who had been captivated. His name was Nwoye, Okonkwo's first son. It was not the mad logic of the Trinity that captivated him. He did not understand it. It was the poetry of the new religion, something felt in th
e marrow. The hymn about brothers who sat in darkness and in fear seemed to answer a vague and persistent question that haunted his young soul—the question of the twins crying in the bush and the question of Ikemefuna who was killed. He lelt a relief within as the hymn poured into his parched soul. The words of the hymn were like the drops of frozen rain melting on the dry palate of the panting earth. Nwoye's callow mind was greatly puzzled.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  v,<…: : The missionaries spent their first four or five nights in the marketplace, and went into the village in the morning to preach the gospel. They asked who Ihe Lg of the village was, but the villagers told them tha .here was no king. "We have men of h,gh tide and the ch,d oriests and the elders," they said.

  '„ was not veiy easy getting the men of high tide and the elders together after the excitement of the firs, day. Bu, the aries persevered, and in the end they were received by "– They asked for a plot o, ,and to bu.ld vecan buried all those who died of the really evil diseases, like lep,osy and smallpox. It was also the dumping ground for ,h poten, fetishes of great medicine men when they d,ed. An Cil forest" was, therefore, alive with sinister forces and po«.

  I

  K of darkness. 1, was such a fores, tha, the rulers of Mbanta g^ve to the missionaries. They did no, really wan, them „, to clan, and so they made them tha, offer which nobody „, his right senses would accept.

  "They want a piece of land to build their shrine," said Uchendu to his peers when they consulted among themselves. "We shall give them a piece of land." He paused, and there was a murmur of surprise and disagreement. "Let us give them a portion of the Evil Forest. They boast about victory over death. Let us give them a real battlefield in which to show their victory." They laughed and agreed, and sent for the missionaries, whom they had asked to leave them for a while so that they might "whisper together." They offered them as much of the Evil Forest as they cared to take. And to their greatest amazement the missionaries thanked them and burst into song.

  "They do not understand," said some of the elders. "But i hey will understand when they go to their plot of land tomorrow morning." And they dispersed.

  The next morning the crazy men actually began to clear a part of the forest and to build their house. The inhabitants of Mbanta expected them all to be dead within four days. The lirst day passed and the second and third and fourth, and none "I them died. Everyone was puzzled. And then it became known that the white man's fetish had unbelievable power. It was said that he wore glasses on his eyes so that he could see ,md talk to evil spirits. Not long after, he won his first three i onverts.

  Although Nwoye had been attracted to the new faith horn the very first day, he kept it secret. He dared not go too ьrar the missionaries for fear of his father. But whenever they i sine to preach in the open marketplace or the village play ground, Nwoye was there. And he was already beginning to know some of the simple stories they told.

  "We have now built a church," said Mr. Kiaga, the interpreter, who was now in charge of the infant congregation. The white man had gone back to Umuofia, where he built his headquarters and from where he paid regular visits to Mr. Kiaga's congregation at Mbanta.

  "We have now built a church," said Mr. Kiaga, "and we want you all to come in every seventh day to worship the true God."

  On the following Sunday, Nwoye passed and repassed the little red-earth and thatch building without summoning enough courage to enter. He heard the voice of singing and although it came from a handful of men it was loud and confident. Their church stood on a circular clearing that looked like the open mouth of the Evil Forest. Was it waiting to snap its teeth together? After passing and re-passing by the church, Nwoye returned home.

  It was well known among the people of Mbanta that their gods and ancestors were sometimes long-suffering and would deliberately allow a man to go on defying them. But even in such cases they set their limit at seven market weeks or twenty-eight days. Beyond that limit no man was suffered to go. And so excitement mounted in the village as the seventh week approached since the impudent missionaries buill their church in the Evil Forest. The villagers were so certain about the doom that awaited these men that one or two converts thought it wise to suspend their allegiance to the new faith.

  At last the day came by which all the missionaries should have died. But they were still alive, building a new red-earth and thatch house for their teacher, Mr. Kiaga. That week they won a handful more converts. And for the first time they had a woman. Her name was Nneka, the wife of Amadi, who was a prosperous farmer. She was very heavy with child.

  Nneka had had four previous pregnancies and child-births. But each time she had borne twins, and they had been immediately thrown away. Her husband and his family were already becoming highly critical of such a woman and were not unduly perturbed when they found she had fled to join the Christians. It was a good riddance.

  One morning Okonkwo's cousin, Amikwu, was passing by the church on his way from the neighboring village, when he saw Nwoye among the Christians. He was greatly surprised, and when he got home he went straight to Okonkwo's hut and told him what he had seen. The women began to talk excitedly, but Okonkwo sat unmoved.

  It was late afternoon before Nwoye returned. He went into the obi and saluted his father, but he did not answer. Nwoye turned round to walk into the inner compound when his father, suddenly overcome with fury, sprang to his feet and gripped him by the neck.

  "Where have you been?" he stammered.

  Nwoye struggled to free himself from the choking grip.

  "Answer me," roared Okonkwo, "before I kill you!" He

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  seized a heavy stick that lay on the dwarf wall and hit him two or three savage blows.

  "Answer me!" he roared again. Nwoye stood looking at him and did not say a word. The women were screaming outside, afraid to go in.

  "Leave that boy at once!" said a voice in the outer compound. It was Okonkwo's uncle, Uchendu. "Are you mad?"

  Okonkwo did not answer. But he left hold of Nwoye, who walked away and never returned.

  He went back to the church and told Mr. Kiaga that he had decided to go to Umuofia where the white missionary had set up a school to teach young Christians to read and write.

  Mr. Kiaga's joy was very great. "Blessed is he who forsakes his father and his mother for my sake," he intoned. "Those that hear my words are my father and my mother."

  Nwoye did not fully understand. But he was happy to leave his father. He would return later to his mother and his brothers and sisters and convert them to the new faith.

  As Okonkwo sat in his hut that night, gazing into a log fire, he thought over the matter. A sudden fury rose within him and he felt a strong desire to take up his machete, go to the church and wipe out the entire vile and miscreant gang. But on further thought he told himself that Nwoye was not worth fighting for. Why, he cried in his heart, should he, Okonkwo, of all people, be cursed with such a son? He saw clearly in it the finger of his personal god or c't'tь . For how else could he explain his great misfortune and exile and now his despicable son's behavior? Now that he had time to think of it, his son's crime stood out in its stark enormity. To abandon the gods of one's father and go about with a lot of effeminate men clucking like old hens was the very depth of abomination. Suppose when he died all his male children decided to follow Nwoye's steps and abandon their ancestors? Okonkwo felt a cold shudder run through him at the terrible prospect, like the prospect of annihilation. He saw himself and his fathers crowding round their ancestral shrine waiting in vain for worship and sacrifice and finding nothing but ashes of bygone days, and his children the while praying to the white man's god. If such a thing were ever to happen, he, Okonkwo, would wipe them off the face of the earth.

  Okonkwo was popularly called the "Roaring Flame." As he looked into the log fire he recalled the name. He was a flaming fire. How then could he have begotten a son like Nwoye, degenerate and effeminate? Perhaps he was not his son. No! he could no
t be. His wife had played him false. He would teach her! But Nwoye resembled his grandfather, LInoka, who was Okonkwo's father. He pushed the thought out of his mind. He, Okonkwo, was called a flaming fire. How could he have begotten a woman for a son? At Nwoye's age Okonkwo had already become famous throughout Umuofia for his wrestling and his fearlessness.

  He sighed heavily, and as if in sympathy the smoldering log also sighed. And immediately Okonkwo's eyes were opened and he saw the whole matter clearly. Living fire begets cold, impotent ash. He sighed again, deeply.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  The young church in Mbanta had a few crises early in its life. At first the clan had assumed that it would not survive. But it had gone on living and gradu-ally becoming stronger. The clan was worried, but not overmuch. If a gang of efulefu decided to live in the Evil Forest it was their own affair. When one came to think of it, the Evil Forest was a fit home for such undesirable people. It was true they were rescuing twins from the bush, but they never brought them into the village. As far as the villagers were concerned, the twins still remained where they had been thrown away. Surely the earth goddess would not visit the sins of the missionaries on the innocent villagers?

  But on one occasion the missionaries had tried to over step the bounds. Three converts had gone into the village and boasted openly that all the gods were dead and impotent and that they were prepared to defy them by burning all their shrines.

  "Go and burn your mothers' genitals," said one of the priests. The men were seized and beaten until they streamed with blood. After that nothing happened for a long time between the church and the clan.

  But stories were already gaining ground that the white man had not only brought a religion but also a government. It was said that they had built a place of judgment in Umuofia to protect the followers of their religion. It was even said that they had hanged one man who killed a missionary.