did not return to their homes immediately but spent two or three days with their kinsmen.
On the second day Uchendu called together his sons and daughters and his nephew, Okonkwo. The men brought their goatskin mats, with which they sat on the floor, and the wome n sat on a sisal mat spread on a raised bank of earth. Uchendu pulled gently at his grey beard and gnashed his teeth. Then he began to speak, quietly and deliberately, picking his words with great care:
'It is Okonkwo that I primarily wish to speak to,' he began. 'But I want all of you to note what I am going to say. I am an old man and you are all children. I know more about the world than any of you. If there is any one among you who thinks he knows more let him speak up.' He paused, but no one spoke.
'Why is Okonkwo with us today? This is not his clan. We are only his mother's kinsmen. He does not belong here. He is an exile, condemned for seven years to live in a strange land. And so he is bowed with grief. But there is just one question I would like to ask him. Can you tell me, Okonkwo, why it is that one of the commonest names we give our children is Nneka, or 'Mother is Supreme'? We all know that a man is the head of the family and his wives do his bidding. A child belongs to its father and his family and not to its mother and her family. A man belongs to his fatherland and not to his motherland. And yet we say Nneka?'Mother is Supreme.' Why is that?'
There was silence. 'I want Okonkwo to answer me,' said Uchendu.
'I do not know the answer,' Okonkwo replied.
'You do not know the answer? So you see that you are a child. You have
many wives and many children?more children than I have. You are a great
ma n in your clan. But you are still a child, my child. Listen to me and 1 shall
tell you. But there is one more question I shall ask you. Wh y is it that when
a woman dies she is taken home to be buried with her own kinsmen? She is
not buried with her husband's kinsmen. Wh y is that? Your mother was brought
home to me and buried with my people. Wh y was that?'
Okonkwo shook his head.
'He does not know that either,' said Uchendu, 'and yet he is full of sorrow
because he has come to live in his motherland for a few years.' He laughed a
mirthless laughter, and turned to his sons and daughters. 'What about you?
Ca n you answer my question?'
They all shook their heads.
'Then listen to me,' he said and cleared his throat. 'It's true that a child
belongs to its father. But when a father beats his child, it seeks sympathy in
its mother's hut. A man belongs to his fatherland when things are good and
life is sweet. But when there is sorrow and bitterness he finds refuge in his
.
268 0 / CHINUA ACHEBE
motherland. Your mother is there to protect you. She is buried there. And that is why we say that mother is supreme. Is it right that you, Okonkwo, should bring to your mother a heavy face and refuse to be comforted? Be careful or you may displease the dead. Your duty is to comfort your wives and children and take them back to your fatherland after seven years. But if you allow sorrow to weigh you down and kill you, they will all die in exile.' He paused for a long while. 'These are now your kinsmen.' He waved at his sons and daughters. 'You think you are the greatest sufferer in the world. Do you know that men are sometimes banished for life? Do you know that men sometimes lose all their yams and even their children? I had six wives once. I have none now except that young girl who knows not her right from her left. Do you know how many children I have buried?children I begot in my youth and strength? Twenty-two. I did not hang myself, and I am still alive. If you think you are the greatest sufferer in the world ask my daughter, Akueni, how many twins she has borne and thrown away. Have you not heard the song they sing when
a woman dies?
' 'For whom is it well, for whom is it well? ' 'There is no one for whom it is well.'
'I have no more to say to you.'
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
It was in the second year of Okonkwo's exile that his friend, Obierika, came
to visit him. He brought with him two young men, each of them carrying a
heavy bag on his head. Okonkwo helped them put down their loads. It was
clear that the bags were full of cowries.
Okonkwo was very happy to receive his friend. His wives and children were very happy too, and so were his cousins and their wives when he sent for them and told them who his guest was.
'You must take him to salute our father,' said one of the cousins.
'Yes,' replied Okonkwo. 'We are going directly.' But before they went he
whispered something to his first wife. She nodded, and soon the children were
chasing one of their cocks.
