For two days after the destruction of the church, nothing happened. Every man in Umuofia went about armed with a gun or a matchet. They would not be caught unawares, like the men of Abame.
Then the District Commissioner returned from his tour. Mr Smith went
immediately to him and they had a long discussion. The men of Umuofia did
not take any notice of this, and if they did, they thought it was not important.
Th e missionary often went to see his brother white man. There was nothing
strange in that.
Three days later the District Commissioner sent his sweet-tongued messen
ger to the leaders of Umuofia asking them to meet him in his headquarters.
That also was not strange. He often asked them to hold such palavers, as he
called them. Okonkwo was among the six leaders he invited.
Okonkwo warned the others to be fully armed. 'An Umuofia man does
not refuse a call,' he said. 'He may refuse to do what he is asked; he does
not refuse to be asked. But the times have changed, and we must be fully
prepared.'
And so the six men went to see the District Commissioner, armed with their
matchets. They did not carry guns, for that would be unseemly. They were led
into the court-house where the District Commissioner sat. He received them
politely. They unslung their goatskin bags and their sheathed matchets, put
them on the floor, and sat down.
'I have asked you to come,' began the Commissioner, 'because of what
happened during my absence. I have been told a few things but I cannot
believe them until I have heard your own side. Let us talk about it like friends
and find a way of ensuring that it does not happen again.'
Ogbuefi Ekwueme9 rose to his feet and began to tell the story.
9. A person who does what he says (a praise name).
.
TH INGS FALL APART, PART 3 / 2703
'Wait a minute,' said the Commissioner. 'I want to bring in my me n so that they too can hear your grievances and take warning. Many of them come from distant places and although they speak your tongue they are ignorant of your customs. James! Go and bring in the men.' His interpreter left the court-room and soon returned with twelve men. They sat together with the men of Umuofia, and Ogbuefi Ekwueme began again to tell the story of how Enoch murdered an egwugwu.
It happened so quickly that the six me n did not see it coming. There was only a brief scuffle, too brief even to allow the drawing of a sheathed matchet. The six men were handcuffed and led into the guardroom.
'We shall not do you any harm,' said the District Commissioner to them later, 'if only you agree to co-operate with us. We have brought a peaceful administration to you and your people so that you may be happy. If any man ill- treats you we shall come to your rescue. But we will not allow you to ill-treat others. We have a court of law where we judge cases and administer justice just as it is done in my own country under a great queen. I have brought you here because you joined together to molest others, to burn people's houses and their place of worship. That must not happen in the dominion of our queen, the most powerful ruler in the world. I have decided that you will pay a fine of two hundred bags of cowries. You will be released as soon as you agree to this and undertake to collect that fine from your people. Wha t do you say to that?'
The six men remained sullen and silent and the Commissioner left them for a while. He told the court messengers, when he left the guardroom, to treat the men with respect because they were the leaders of Umuofia. They said, 'Yes, sir,' and saluted.
As soon as the District Commissioner left, the head messenger, who was also the prisoners' barber, took down his razor and shaved off all the hair on the men's heads. They were still handcuffed, and they just sat and moped.
'Who is the chief among you?' the court messengers asked in jest. 'We see that every pauper wears the anklet of title in Umuofia. Does it cost as muc h as ten cowries?'
The six men ate nothing throughout that day and the next. They were not even given any water to drink, and they could not go out to urinate or go into the bush when they were pressed. At night the messengers came in to taunt them and to knock their shaven heads together.
Even when the men were left alone they found no words to speak to one
another. It was only on the third day, when they could no longer bear the
hunger and the insults, that they began to talk about giving in.
'We should have killed the white man if you had listened to me,' Okonkwo
snarled.
