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"Your buttocks said he had a son," said the joker. "So he must have a wife and all of them must have buttocks."
The missionary ignored him and went on to talk about the Holy Trinity. At the end of it Okonkwo was fully convinced that the man was mad. He shrugged his shoulders and went away to tap his afternoon palm-wine.
But there was a young lad who had been captivated. His name was Nwoye, Okonkwo's first son. It was not the mad logic of the Trinity that captivated him. He did not understand it. It was the poetry of the new religion, something felt in th
e marrow. The hymn about brothers who sat in darkness and in fear seemed to answer a vague and persistent question that haunted his young soul—the question of the twins crying in the bush and the question of Ikemefuna who was killed. He lelt a relief within as the hymn poured into his parched soul. The words of the hymn were like the drops of frozen rain melting on the dry palate of the panting earth. Nwoye's callow mind was greatly puzzled.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
v,<…: : The missionaries spent their first four or five nights in the marketplace, and went into the village in the morning to preach the gospel. They asked who Ihe Lg of the village was, but the villagers told them tha .here was no king. "We have men of h,gh tide and the ch,d oriests and the elders," they said.
'„ was not veiy easy getting the men of high tide and the elders together after the excitement of the firs, day. Bu, the aries persevered, and in the end they were received by "– They asked for a plot o, ,and to bu.ld vecan buried all those who died of the really evil diseases, like lep,osy and smallpox. It was also the dumping ground for ,h poten, fetishes of great medicine men when they d,ed. An Cil forest" was, therefore, alive with sinister forces and po«.
I
K of darkness. 1, was such a fores, tha, the rulers of Mbanta g^ve to the missionaries. They did no, really wan, them „, to clan, and so they made them tha, offer which nobody „, his right senses would accept.
"They want a piece of land to build their shrine," said Uchendu to his peers when they consulted among themselves. "We shall give them a piece of land." He paused, and there was a murmur of surprise and disagreement. "Let us give them a portion of the Evil Forest. They boast about victory over death. Let us give them a real battlefield in which to show their victory." They laughed and agreed, and sent for the missionaries, whom they had asked to leave them for a while so that they might "whisper together." They offered them as much of the Evil Forest as they cared to take. And to their greatest amazement the missionaries thanked them and burst into song.
"They do not understand," said some of the elders. "But i hey will understand when they go to their plot of land tomorrow morning." And they dispersed.
The next morning the crazy men actually began to clear a part of the forest and to build their house. The inhabitants of Mbanta expected them all to be dead within four days. The lirst day passed and the second and third and fourth, and none "I them died. Everyone was puzzled. And then it became known that the white man's fetish had unbelievable power. It was said that he wore glasses on his eyes so that he could see ,md talk to evil spirits. Not long after, he won his first three i onverts.
Although Nwoye had been attracted to the new faith horn the very first day, he kept it secret. He dared not go too ?rar the missionaries for fear of his father. But whenever they i sine to preach in the open marketplace or the village play ground, Nwoye was there. And he was already beginning to know some of the simple stories they told.
"We have now built a church," said Mr. Kiaga, the interpreter, who was now in charge of the infant congregation. The white man had gone back to Umuofia, where he built his headquarters and from where he paid regular visits to Mr. Kiaga's congregation at Mbanta.
"We have now built a church," said Mr. Kiaga, "and we want you all to come in every seventh day to worship the true God."
On the following Sunday, Nwoye passed and repassed the little red-earth and thatch building without summoning enough courage to enter. He heard the voice of singing and although it came from a handful of men it was loud and confident. Their church stood on a circular clearing that looked like the open mouth of the Evil Forest. Was it waiting to snap its teeth together? After passing and re-passing by the church, Nwoye returned home.
It was well known among the people of Mbanta that their gods and ancestors were sometimes long-suffering and would deliberately allow a man to go on defying them. But even in such cases they set their limit at seven market weeks or twenty-eight days. Beyond that limit no man was suffered to go. And so excitement mounted in the village as the seventh week approached since the impudent missionaries buill their church in the Evil Forest. The villagers were so certain about the doom that awaited these men that one or two converts thought it wise to suspend their allegiance to the new faith.
At last the day came by which all the missionaries should have died. But they were still alive, building a new red-earth and thatch house for their teacher, Mr. Kiaga. That week they won a handful more converts. And for the first time they had a woman. Her name was Nneka, the wife of Amadi, who was a prosperous farmer. She was very heavy with child.
Nneka had had four previous pregnancies and child-births. But each time she had borne twins, and they had been immediately thrown away. Her husband and his family were already becoming highly critical of such a woman and were not unduly perturbed when they found she had fled to join the Christians. It was a good riddance.
One morning Okonkwo's cousin, Amikwu, was passing by the church on his way from the neighboring village, when he saw Nwoye among the Christians. He was greatly surprised, and when he got home he went straight to Okonkwo's hut and told him what he had seen. The women began to talk excitedly, but Okonkwo sat unmoved.
It was late afternoon before Nwoye returned. He went into the obi and saluted his father, but he did not answer. Nwoye turned round to walk into the inner compound when his father, suddenly overcome with fury, sprang to his feet and gripped him by the neck.
"Where have you been?" he stammered.
Nwoye struggled to free himself from the choking grip.
"Answer me," roared Okonkwo, "before I kill you!" He
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seized a heavy stick that lay on the dwarf wall and hit him two or three savage blows.
"Answer me!" he roared again. Nwoye stood looking at him and did not say a word. The women were screaming outside, afraid to go in.
"Leave that boy at once!" said a voice in the outer compound. It was Okonkwo's uncle, Uchendu. "Are you mad?"
Okonkwo did not answer. But he left hold of Nwoye, who walked away and never returned.
He went back to the church and told Mr. Kiaga that he had decided to go to Umuofia where the white missionary had set up a school to teach young Christians to read and write.
