'I think she has. How old is she now?'
'She is about ten years old.'
'I think she will stay. They usually stay if they do not die before the age of six. ? 'I pray she stays,' said Ekwefi with a heavy sigh. The woman with whom she talked was called Chielo.4 She was the priestess
of Agbala, the Oracle of the Hills and the Caves. In ordinary life Chielo was a widow with two children. She was very friendly with Ekwefi and they shared a common shed in the market. She was particularly fond of Ekwefi's only daughter, Ezinma, whom she called 'my daughter'. Quite often she bought bean-cakes and gave Ekwefi some to take home to Ezinma. Anyone seeing Chielo in ordinary life would hardly believe she was the same person who prophesied when the spirit of Agbala was upon her.
The drummers took up their sticks again and the air shivered and grew tense like a tightened bow.
The two teams were ranged facing each other across the clear space. A young man from one team danced across the centre to the other side and pointed at whomever he wanted to fight. They danced back to the centre together and then closed in.
There were twelve men on each side and the challenge went from one side to the other. Two judges walked around the wrestlers and when they thought they were equally matched, stopped them. Five matches ended in this way. But the really exciting moments were when a man was thrown. The huge voice of the crowd then rose to the sky and in every direction. It was even heard in the surrounding villages.
The last match was between the leaders of the teams. They were among the best wrestlers in all the nine villages. The crowd wondered who would throw the other this year. Some said Okafo was the better man; others said he was not the equal of Ikezue.5 Last year neither of them had thrown the other even though the judges had allowed the contest to go on longer than was the custom. They had the same style and one saw the other's plans beforehand. It might happen again this year.
Dusk was already approaching when their contest began. The drums went
4. Chi who plants. 5. Strength is complete (a boastful name).
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THINGS FALL APART, PART 1 / 2645
mad and the crowds also. They surged forward as the two young men danced into the circle. The palm fronds were helpless in keeping them back.
Ikezue held out his right hand. Okafo seized it, and they closed in. It was a fierce contest. Ikezue strove to dig in his right heel behind Okafo so as to pitch him backwards in the clever ege style. But the one knew what the other was thinking. The crowd had surrounded and swallowed up the drummers, whose frantic rhythm was no longer a mere disembodied sound but the very heartbeat of the people.
The wrestlers were now almost still in each other's grip. The muscles on their arms and their thighs and on their backs stood out and twitched. It looked like an equal match. The two judges were already moving forward to separate them when Ikezue, now desperate, went down quickly on one knee in an attempt to fling his man backwards over his head. It was a sad miscalculation. Quick as the lightning of Amadiora, Okafo raised his right leg and swung it over his rival's head. The crowd burst into a thunderous roar. Okafo was swept off his feet by his supporters and carried home shoulder-high. They sang his praise and the young women clapped their hands:
'Who will wrestle for our village? Okafo will wrestle for our village. Has he thrown a hundred men? He has thrown four hundred men. Has he thrown a hundred Cats? He has thrown four hundred Cats. Then send him word to fight for us.'
CHAPTER SEVEN
For three years Ikemefuna lived in Okonkwo's household and the elders of Umuofia seemed to have forgotten about him. He grew rapidly like a yam tendril in the rainy season, and was full of the sap of life. He had become wholly absorbed into his new family. He was like an elder brother to Nwoye, and from the very first seemed to have kindled a new fire in the younger boy. He made him feel grown-up; and they no longer spent the evenings in mother's hut while she cooked, but now sat with Okonkwo in his ohi, or watched him as he tapped his palm tree for the evening wine. Nothing pleased Nwoye now more than to be sent for by his mother or another of his father's wives to do one of those difficult and masculine tasks in the home, like splitting wood, or pounding food. On receiving such a message through a younger brother or sister, Nwoye would feign annoyance and grumble aloud about women and their troubles.
Okonkwo was inwardly pleased at his son's development, and he knew it
was due to Ikemefuna. He wanted Nwoye to grow into a tough young man
capable of ruling his father's household when he was dead and gone to join
the ancestors. He wanted him to be a prosperous man, having enough in his
barn to feed the ancestors with regular sacrifices. And so he was always happy
when he heard him grumbling about women. That showed that in time he
would be able to control his women-folk. No matter how prosperous a man
was, if he was unable to rule his women and his children (and especially his
women) he was not really a man. He was like the man in the song who had
ten and one wives and not enough soup for his foo-foo.
So Okonkwo encouraged the boys to sit with him in his ohi, and he told
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them stories of the land?masculine stories of violence and bloodshed. Nwoye knew that it was right to be masculine and to be violent, but somehow he still preferred the stories that his mother used to tell, and which she no doubt still told to her younger children?stories of the tortoise and his wily ways, and of the bird eneke-nti-oba6 who challenged the whole world to a wrestling contest and was finally thrown by the cat. He remembered the story
