Thanks, Achebe...

Eight years ago, I had a tough time inside Landmark. I spent almost an hour inside the bookstall, holding “Things Fall Apart” on my right hand and “Anthills of Savannah” on my left. Both the books had the name of the author 'Chinua' on top of the covers and 'Achebe' at the bottom. Between Chinua and Achebe, there was a line of praise, which read: “The Classic Bestseller With More Than 2 Million Copies in Print.” But the interesting part was the one at the bottom, written by Nadine Gordimer, a South African writer. “Chinua Achebe is gloriously gifted with the magic of an ebullient, generous, great talent.” Even though I wanted to buy “Anthills of Savannah” (I liked the title due to some strange reason), it was “Things Fall Apart” that finally found a place in my bag. Unlike in the cases of Kafka and Pablo Neruda, no one really introduced me to the world of Achebe. I don’t know how Achebe entered my world though. Was it because of the African tag?
Back home, I started reading “Things Fall Apart.” Even though Achebe’s prose was simple and straightforward, I had problems with names of people and places he used in the novel. Words like Okonkwo, the name of the lead character, and Umuofia, the village, were a bit difficult to read. But soon Okonkwo and I became friends. We trekked through the Lower Niger, which ended only in the last page, 209. Considered one of the best novels in African literature, the book exposed the complexities of a strong man whose life is dominated by fear and anger. Reading “Things Fall Apart” was a great experience.

A couple of days after Chinua Achebe died in Boston on March 21, I ran a search through my bookshelf to see whether “Things Fall Apart” was safe there. It was. But I was surprised to see a fold-mark on top of Page-74. I hate folding pages, and I don’t like anyone doing it on my books. But here, the folding in a way helped me reread an interesting conversation:

“All their customs are upside-down. They do not decide bride-price as we do, with sticks. They haggle and bargain as if they were buying a goat or a cow in the market.”

“That is very bad,” said Obierika’s eldest brother. “But what’s good in one place is bad in another place. In Umunso they do not bargain at all, not even with broomstick. The suitor just goes on bringing bags of cowries until his in-laws tell him to stop. It is a bad custom because it always leads to a quarrel.”

“The world is large,” said Okonkwo. “I have even heard that in some tribes a man’s children belong to his wife and her family.”

“That cannot be,” said Machi. “You might as well say that the woman lies on top of the man when they are making the children.”