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was very good on his flute； and his happiest moments were the two or three moons after the harvest when the village musicians brought down their instruments； hung above the fireplace。 Unoka would play with them； his face beaming with blessedness and peace。 Sometimes another village would ask Unoka's band and their dancing egwugwu to e and stay with them and teach them their tunes。 They would go to such hosts for as long as three or four markets； making music and feasting。 Unoka loved the good hire and the good fellowship； and he loved this season of the year； when the rains had stopped and the sun rose every morning with dazzling beauty。 And it was not too hot either； because the cold and dry harmattan wind was blowing down Irom the north。 Some years the harmattan was very severe and a dense haze hung on the atmosphere。 Old men and children would then sit round log fires； warming their bodies。 Unoka loved it all； and he loved the first kites that returned with the dry season； and the children who sang songs of wele to them。 He would remember his own childhood； how he had often wandered around looking for a kite sailing leisurely against the blue sky。 As soon as he found one he would sing with his whole being； weling it back from its long； long journey； and asking it if it had brought home any lengths of cloth。
That was years ago； when he was young。 Unoka； the grown…up； was a failure。 He was poor and his wife and children had barely enough to eat。 People laughed at him because he was a loafer； and they swore never to lend him any more money because he never paid back。 But Unoka was such a man that he always succeeded in borrowing more； and piling up his debts。
One day a neighbor called Okoye came in to see him。 He was reclining on a mud bed in his hut playing on the flute。 He immediately rose and shook hands with Okoye； who then unrolled the goatskin which he carried under his arm； and sat down。 Unoka went into an inner room and soon returned with a small wooden disc containing a kola nut； some alligator pepper and a lump of white chalk。
〃I have kola；〃 he announced when he sat down； and passed the disc over to his guest。
〃Thank you。 He who brings kola brings life。 But I think you ought to break it；〃 replied Okoye； passing back the disc。
〃No； it is for you； I think；〃 and they argued like this for a few moments before Unoka accepted the honor of breaking the kola。 Okoye； meanwhile； took the lump of chalk； drew some lines on the floor； and then painted his big toe。
As he broke the kola； Unoka prayed to their ancestors for life and health； and for protection against their enemies。 When they had eaten they talked about many things： about the heavy rains which were drowning the yams； about the next ancestral feast and about the impending war with the village of Mbaino。 Unoka was never happy when it came to wars。 He was in fact a coward and could not bear the sight of blood。 And so he changed the subject and talked about music； and his face beamed。 He could hear in his mind's ear the blood…stirring and intricate rhythms of the ekwe and the udu and the ogene； and he could hear his own flute weaving in and out of them； decorating them with a colorful and plaintive tune。 The total effect was gay and brisk； but if one picked out the flute as it went up and down and then broke up into short snatches； one saw that there was sorrow and grief there。
Okoye was also a musician。 He played on the ogene。 But he was not a failure like Unoka。 He had a large barn full of yams and he had three wives。 And now he was going to take the Idemili title； the third highest in the land。 It was a very expensive ceremony and he was gathering all his resources together。 That was in fact the reason why he had e to see Unoka。 He cleared his throat and began：
〃Thank you for the kola。 You may have heard of the title I intend to take shortly。〃
Having spoken plainly so far； Okoye said the next half a dozen sentences in proverbs。 Among the Ibo the art of conversation is regarded very highly； and proverbs are the palm…oil with which words are eaten。 Okoye was a great talker and he spoke for a long time； skirting round the subject and then hitting it finally。 In short； he was asking Unoka to return the two hundred cowries he had borrowed from him more than two years before。 As soon as Unoka understood what his friend was driving at； he burst out laughing。 He laughed loud and long and his voice rang out clear as the ogene； and tears stood in his eyes。 His visitor was amazed； and sat speechless。 At the end； Unoka was able to give an answer between fresh outbursts of mirth。
〃Look at that wall；〃 he said； pointing at the far wall of his hut； which was rubbed with red earth so that it shone。 〃Look at those lines of chalk；〃 and Okoye saw groups of short perpendicular lines drawn in chalk。 There were five groups； and the smallest group had ten lines。 Unoka had a sense of the dramatic and so he allowed a pause； in which he took a pinch of snuff and sneezed noisily； and then he continued： 〃Each group there represents a debt to someone； and each stroke is one hundred cowries。 You see； I owe that man a thousand cowries。 But he has not e to wake me up in the morning for it。 I shall pay you； but not today。 Our elders say that the sun will shine on those who stand before it shines on those who kneel under them。 I shall pay my big debts first。〃 And he took another pinch of snuff； as if that was paying the big debts first。 Okoye rolled his goatskin and departed。
When Unoka died he had taken no title at all and he was heavily in debt。 Any wonder then that his son Okonkwo was ashamed of him？ Fortunately； among these people a man was judged according to his worth and not according to the worth of his father。 Okonkwo was clearly cut out for great things。 He was still young but he had won fame as the greatest wrestler in the nine villages。 He was a wealthy farmer and had two barns full of yams； and had just married his third wife。 To crown it all he had taken two titles and had shown incredible prowess in two inter…tribal wars。 And so although Okonkwo was still young； he was already one of the greatest men of his time。 Age was respected among his people； but achievement was revered。 As the elders said； if a child washed his hands he could eat with kings。 Okonkwo had clearly washed his hands and so he ate with kings and elders。 And that was how he came to look after the doomed lad who was sacrificed to the village of Umuofia by their neighbors to avoid war and bloodshed。 The ill…fated lad was called Ikemefuna。
CHAPTER Two
Okonkwo had just blown out the palm…oil lamp and stretched himself on his bamboo bed when he heard the ogene of the town crier piercing the still night air。 Gome； gome； gome； gome； boomed the hollow metal。 Then the crier gave his message； and at the end of it beat his instrument again。 And this was the message。 Every man of Umuofia was asked to gather at the market place tomorrow morning。 Okonkwo wondered what was amiss； for he knew certainly that something was amiss。 He had discerned a clear overtone of tragedy in the crier's voice； and even now he could still hear it as it grew dimmer and dimmer in the distance。