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When they had eaten, Obierika pointed at the two heavy bags.
"That is the money from your yams," he said. "I sold the big ones as soon as you left. Later on I sold some of the seed-yams and gave out others to sharecroppers. I shall do that every year until you return. But 1 thought you would need the money now and so I brought it. Who knows what may happen tomorrow? Perhaps green men will come to our clan and shoot us."
"God will not permit it," said Okonkwo. "1 do not know how to thank you."
"I can tell you," said Obierika. "Kill one of your sons for me.
"That will not be enough," said Okonkwo.
"Then kill yourself," said Obierika.
"Forgive me," said Okonkwo, smiling. "I shall not talk about thanking you any more."
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
When nearly two years later Obierika paid an il •'• other visit to his friend in exile the circum stances were less happy. The missionaries had come to Umuofia. They had built their church there, won a handful of converts and 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 ihe strange faith and the white man's god would not last. None of his converts was a man whose word was heeded in ihe assembly of the people. None of them was a man of title. They were mostly the kind of people that were called efuleju , worthless, empty men. The imagery of an efulefu in the language of the clan was a man who sold his machete and wore (lie 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 ID Umuofia.
"What are you doing here?" Obierika had asked when after many difficulties the missionaries had allowed him to speak to the boy.
"1 am one of them," replied Nwoye.
"How is your father?" Obierika asked, not knowing what else to say.
"1 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 man and woman came out to see th speak to them. He spoke through an interpreter who was an Ibo man, though his dialect was different and harsh to the enrs of Mbanta. Many people laughed at his dialect and the way In1 used words strangely. Instead of saying "myself" he always saul "my buttocks." But he was a man of commanding presence mull the clansmen listened to him. He said he was one of them, ,m they could see from his color and his language. The other (ourI
black men were also their brothers, although one of them did not speak Ibo. The white man 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 murmur 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 forever in His happy kingdom. "We have been sent by this great God to ask you to leave your wicked ways and faLe gods and turn to Him 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. Hut 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 I hem but very few of them heard. They were talking excitedly .unong themselves because the white man had said he was Hing 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 or 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 God 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 men must be mad, they said to themselves. How else could they say that Ani and Amadiora were harmless? And Idemili and Ogwugwu too? And some of them began to go away.
Then 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. The interpreter explained each verse to the audience, 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 God and from the tender shepherd's care.
After the singing the interpreter spoke about the Son of God whose name was Jesu Kristi. Okonkwo, who only stayed in the hope that it might come to chasing the men out of the village or whipping them, now said-.
"You told us with your own mouth that there was only one god. Now you talk about his son. He must have a wife, then." The crowd agreed.
"1 did not say He had a wife," said the interpreter, somewhat lamely.
