Things Fall Apart - Chinua Achebe [39]
“I hope our in-laws will bring many pots of wine. Although they come from a village that is known for being closefisted, they ought to know that Akueke is the bride for a king.”
“They dare not bring fewer than thirty pots,” said Okonkwo. “I shall tell them my mind if they do.”
At that moment Obierika’s son, Maduka, led out the giant goat from the inner compound, for his father’s relatives to see. They all admired it and said that that was the way things should be done. The goat was then led back to the inner compound.
Very soon after, the in-laws began to arrive. Young men and boys in single file, each carrying a pot of wine, came first. Obierika’s relatives counted the pots as they came. Twenty, twenty-five. There was a long break, and the hosts looked at each other as if to say, “I told you.” Then more pots came. Thirty, thirty-five, forty, forty-five. The hosts nodded in approval and seemed to say, “Now they are behaving like men.” Altogether there were fifty pots of wine. After the pot-bearers came Ibe, the suitor, and the elders of his family. They sat in a half-moon, thus completing a circle with their hosts. The pots of wine stood in their midst. Then the bride, her mother and half a dozen other women and girls emerged from the inner compound, and went round the circle shaking hands with all. The bride’s mother led the way, followed by the bride and the other women. The married women wore their best cloths and the girls wore red and black waist-beads and anklets of brass.
When the women retired, Obierika presented kola nuts to his in-laws. His eldest brother broke the first one. “Life to all of us,” he said as he broke it. “And let there be friendship between your family and ours.”
The crowd answered: “Ee-e-e!”
“We are giving you our daughter today. She will be a good wife to you. She will bear you nine sons like the mother of our town.”
“Ee-e-e!”
The oldest man in the camp of the visitors replied: “It will be good for you and it will be good for us.”
“Ee-e-a!”
“This is not the first time my people have come to marry your daughter. My mother was one of you.”
“Ee-e-e!”
“And this will not be the last, because you understand us and we understand you. You are a great family.”
“Ee-e-e!”
“Prosperous men and great warriors.” He looked in the direction of Okonkwo. “Your daughter will bear us sons like you.”
“Ee-e-e!”
The kola was eaten and the drinking of palm-wine began. Groups of four or five men sat round with a pot in their midst. As the evening wore on, food was presented to the guests. There were huge bowls of foo-foo and steaming pots of soup. There were also pots of yam pottage. It was a great feast.
As night fell, burning torches were set on wooden tripods and the young men raised a song. The elders sat in a big circle and the singers went round singing each man’s praise as they came before him. They had something to say for every man. Some were great farmers, some were orators who spoke for the clan; Okonkwo was the greatest wrestler and warrior alive. When they had gone round the circle they settled down in the center, and girls came from the inner compound to dance. At first the bride was not among them. But when she finally appeared holding a cock in her right hand, a loud cheer rose from the crowd. All the other dancers made way for her. She presented the cock to the musicians and began to dance. Her brass anklets rattled as she danced and her body gleamed with cam wood in the soft yellow light. The musicians with their wood, clay and metal instruments went from song to song. And they were all gay. They sang the latest song in the village:
“If I hold her hand
She says, ‘Don’t touch!’
If I hold her foot
She says, ‘Don’t touch!’
But when I hold her waist-beads
She pretends not to know.”
The night was already far spent when the