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ancestors he asked them to protect him； his children and their mothers in the new year。
As the day wore on his in…laws arrived from three surrounding villages； and each party brought with them a huge pot of palm…wine。 And there was eating and drinking till night； when Okonkwo's in…laws began to leave for their homes The second day of the new year was the day of the great wrestling match between Okonkwo's village and their neighbors。 It was difficult to say which the people enjoyed more； the feasting and fellowship of the first day or the wrestling Contest of the second。 But there was one woman who had no doubt whatever in her mind。 She was Okonkwo's second wife Ekwefi； whom he nearly shot。 There was no festival in all the seasons of the year which gave her as much pleasure as the wrestling match。 Many years ago when she was the village beauty Okonkwo had won her heart by throwing the Cat in the greatest contest within living memory。 She did not marry him then because he was too poor to pay her bride…price。 But a few years later she ran away from her husband and came to live with Okonkwo。 All this happened many years ago。 Now Ekwefi was a woman of forty…five who had suffered a great deal in her time。 But her love of wrestling contests was still as strong as it was thirty years ago。
It was not yet noon on the second day of the New Yam Festival。 Ekwefi and her only daughter； Ezinma； sat near the fireplace waiting for the water in the pot to boil。 The fowl Ekwefi had just killed was in the wooden mortar。 The water began to boil； and in one deft movement she lifted the pot from the fire and poured the boiling water over the fowl。 She put back the empty pot on the circular pad in the corner； and looked at her palms； which were black with soot。 Ezinma was always surprised that her mother could lift a pot from the fire with her bare hands。
〃Ekwefi；〃 she said； 〃is it true that when people are grown up； fire does not burn them？〃 Ezinma； unlike most children； called her mother by her name。
〃Yes；〃 replied Ekwefi； too busy to argue。 Her daughter was only ten years old but she was wiser than her years。
〃But Nwoye's mother dropped her pot of hot soup the other day and it broke on the floor。〃
Ekwefi turned the hen over in the mortar and began to pluck the feathers。
〃Ekwefi；〃 said Ezinma； who had joined in plucking the feathers； 〃my eyelid is twitching。〃
〃It means you are going to cry；〃 said her mother。
〃No；〃 Ezinma said； 〃it is this eyelid； the top one。〃
〃That means you will see something。〃
〃What will I see？〃 she asked。
〃How can I know？〃 Ekwefi wanted her to work it out herself。
〃Oho；〃 said Ezinma at last。 〃I know what it is—the wrestling match。〃
At last the hen was plucked clean。 Ekwefi tried to pull out the horny beak but it was too hard。 She turned round on her low stool and put the beak in the fire for a few moments。 She pulled again and it came off。
〃Ekwefi！〃 a voice called from one of the other huts。 It was Nwoye's mother； Okonkwo's first wife。
〃Is that me？〃 Ekwefi called back。 That was the way people answered calls from outside。 They never answered yes for fear it might be an evil spirit calling。
〃Will you give Ezinma some fire to bring to me？〃 Her own children and Ikemefuna had gone to the stream。
Ekwefi put a few live coals into a piece of broken pot and Ezinma carried it across the clean swept pound to Nwoye's mother。
〃Thank you； Nma；〃 she said。 She was peeling new yams； and in a basket beside her were green vegetables and beans。
〃Let me make the fire for you；〃 Ezinma offered。
〃Thank you； Ezigbo；〃 she said。 She often called her Ezigbo； which means 〃the good one。〃
Ezinma went outside and brought some sticks from a huge bundle of firewood。 She broke them into little pieces across the sole of her foot and began to build a fire； blowing it with her breath。
〃You will blow your eyes out；〃 said Nwoye's mother； looking up from the yams she was peeling。 〃Use the fan。〃 She stood up and pulled out the fan which was fastened into one of the rafters。 As soon as she got up； the troublesome nanny goat； which had been dutifully eating yam peelings； dug her teeth into the real thing； scooped out two mouthfuls and fled from the hut to chew the cud in the goats' shed。 Nwoye's mother swore at her and settled down again to her peeling。 Ezinma's fire was now sending up thick clouds of smoke。 She went on fanning it until it burst into flames。 Nwoye's mother thanked her and she went back to her mother's hut。
Just then the distant beating of drums began to reach them。 It came from the direction of the ilo； the village playground。 Every village had its own ilo which was as old as the village itself and where all the great ceremonies and dances took place。 The drums beat the unmistakable wrestling dance … quick； light and gay； and it came floating on the wind。
Okonkwo cleared his throat and moved his feet to the beat of the drums。 It filled him with fire as it had always done from his youth。 He trembled with the desire to conquer and subdue。 It was like the desire for woman。
〃We shall be late for the wrestling；〃 said Ezinma to her mother。
〃They will not begin until the sun goes down。〃
〃But they are beating the drums。〃
〃Yes。 The drums begin at noon but the wrestling waits until the sun begins to sink。 Go and see if your father has brought out yams for the afternoon。〃
〃He has。 Nwoye's mother is already cooking。〃
〃Go and bring our own； then。 We must cook quickly or we shall be late for the wrestling。〃
Ezinma ran in the direction of the barn and brought back two yams from the dwarf wall。
Ekwefi peeled the yams quickly。 The troublesome nanny…goat sniffed about； eating the peelings。 She cut the yams into small pieces and began to prepare a pottage； using some of the chicken。
At that moment they heard someone crying just outside their pound。 It was very much like Obiageli； Nwoye's sister。
〃Is that not Obiageli weeping？〃 Ekwefi called across the yard to Nwoye's mother。
〃Yes；〃 she replied。 〃She must have broken her waterpot。〃
The weeping was now quite close and soon the children filed in； carrying on their heads various sizes of pots suitable to their years。 Ikemefuna came first with the biggest pot； closely followed by Nwoye and his two younger brothers。 Obiageli brought up the rear； her face streaming with tears。 In her hand was the cloth pad on which the pot should have rested on her head。
〃What happened？〃 her mother asked； and Obiageli told her mournful story。 Her mother consoled her and promised to buy her her another pot。
Nwoye's younger brothers were about to tell their mother the true story of the accident when Ikemefuna looked at them sternly and they held their peace。 The fact was that Obiageli had been making inyanga with her pot。 She had balanced it on her head； folded her arms in front of her and began to sway her waist like a grown…up young lady。 When the pot fell down and broke she burst out laughing。 She only began to weep when they got near the iroko tree outside their pound。
The drums were still beating； persistent and unchanging。 Their sound was no longer