in a way that no other ma n could. He was not a fighter, but his voice turned
every ma n into a lion.
'Worthy men are no more,' Okonkwo sighed as he remembered those days.
'Isike will never forget how we slaughtered them in that war. We killed twelve
of their me n and they killed only two of ours. Before the end of the fourth
market week they were suing for peace. Those were days when men were men.'
As he thought of these things he heard the sound of the iron gong in the
distance. He listened carefully, and could just hear the crier's voice. But it was
very faint. He turned on his bed and his back hurt him. He ground his teeth.
Th e crier was drawing nearer and nearer until he passed by Okonkwo's
compound.
'The greatest obstacle in Umuofia,' Okonkwo thought bitterly, 'is that cow
ard, Egonwanne.2 His sweet tongue can change fire into cold ash. Whe n he
speaks he moves our men to impotence. If they had ignored his womanish
wisdom five years ago, we would not have come to this.' He ground his teeth.
'Tomorrow he will tell them that our fathers never fought a 'war of blame'. If
they listen to him I shall leave them and plan my own revenge.'
Th e crier's voice had once more become faint, and the distance had taken
the harsh edge off his iron gong. Okonkwo turned from one side to the other
and derived a ldnd of pleasure from the pain his back gave him. 'Let Egon
wanne talk about a 'war of blame' tomorrow and I shall show him my back
and head.' He ground his teeth.
Th e market-place began to fill as soon as the sun rose. Obierika was waiting in his obi when Okonkwo came along and called him. He hung his goatskin bag and his sheathed matchet on his shoulder and went out to join him. Obi
1. Great eagle feather (a praise name). 2. Wealth of a sibling.
.
2706 / CHINUA ACHEBE
erika's hut was close to the road and he saw every man who passed to the market-place. He had exchanged greetings with many who had already passed that morning.
Whe n Okonkwo and Obierika got to the meeting-place there were already so many people that if one threw up a grain of sand it would not find its way to the earth again. And many more people were coming from every quarter of the nine villages. It warmed Okonkwo's heart to see such strength of numbers. But he was looking for one man in particular, the man whose tongue he dreaded and despised so much.
'Can you see him?' he asked Obierika.
'Who?'
'Egonwanne,' he said, his eyes roving from one corner of the huge market
place to the other. Most of the me n were seated on goatskins on the ground. A few of them sat on wooden stools they had brought with them. 'No,' said Obierika, casting his eyes over the crowd. 'Yes, there he is, under the silk-cotton tree. Are you afraid he would convince us not to fight?' 'Afraid? I do not care what he does to you. I despise him and those who listen to him. I shall fight alone if I choose.' They spoke at the top of their voices because everybody was talking, and it was like the sound of a great market.
'I shall wait till he has spoken,' Okonkwo thought. 'Then I shall speak.'
'But how do you know he will speak against war?' Obierika asked after a while.
'Because I know he is a coward,' said Okonkwo. Obierika did not hear the rest of what he said because at that moment somebody touched his shoulder from behind and he turned round to shake hands and exchange greetings with five or six friends. Okonkwo did not turn round even though he knew the voices. He was in no mood to exchange greetings. But one of the men touched him and asked about the people of his compound.
'They are well,' he replied without interest.
The first man to speak to Umuofia that morning was Okika, one of the six
who had been imprisoned. Okika was a great man and an orator. But he did
not have the booming voice which a first speaker must use to establish silence
in the assembly of the clan. Onyeka3 had such a voice; and so he was asked
to salute Umuofia before Okika began to speak.
'Umuofia kwenu!' he bellowed, raising his left arm and pushing the air with
his open hand.
