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 the strange faith and the white man's god would not last. None of his converts was a man whose word was heeded in the assembly of the people. None of them was a man of title. They were mostly the kind of people that were called efulefu, worthless, empty men. The imagery of an efulefu in the language of the clan was a man who sold his matchet and wore the 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 in Umuofia. 'What are you doing here?' Obierika had asked when after many difficulties the missionaries had allowed him to speak to the boy.
'I am one of them,' replied Nwoye.
'How is your father?' Obierika asked, not knowing what else to say.
'I 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 ma n and woman came out to see the white man. Stories about these strange men had grown since 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.
Whe n they had all gathered, the white ma n began to speak to them. He spoke through an interpreter who was an Ibo man, though his dialect was different and harsh to the ears of Mbanta. Man y people laughed at his dialect and the way he used words strangely. Instead of saying 'myself' he always said
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268 4 / CHINUA ACHEBE
'my buttocks.'8 But he was a man of commanding presence and the clansmen listened to him. He said he was one of them, as they could see from his colour and his language. The other four black men were also their brothers, although one of them did not speak Ibo. Th e white ma n 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 murmu r 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 for ever in His happy kingdom. 'We have been sent by this great God to ask you to leave your wicked ways and false gods and turn to Hi m 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. But 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 them but very few of them heard. They were talking excitedly among themselves because the white man had said he was going 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 of 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 Go d 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 me n must be mad, they said to themselves. Ho w else could
they say that Ani and Amadiora were harmless? And Idemili and Ogwugwu
too? And some of them began to go away.
The n 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. Th e interpreter explained each verse to the audi
ence, 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 Go d and from the tender shepherd's care.
8. The Igbo language has high and low tones, so probably referring to a famous pair of near- that the same word may have different meanings homonyms: the (strength) and ike (buttocks). according to its pronunciation. Here Achebe is
