An
afa
oracle sent Akueke’s brothers in search of a certain palm-tree smothered by a climbing vine. “When you see it,” he said to them, “take a matchete and cut away the strangling climber. The spirits which have bound your sister will then release her.” The brothers searched Umuofia and the neighbouringvillages for three days before they saw such a palm-tree and cut it loose. But their sister was not released; rather she got worse.
At last they took counsel together and decided with heavy hearts that Akueke had been stricken with the swelling disease which was an abomination to the land. Akueke knew the purpose of her brothers’ consultation. As soon as the eldest set foot in her sickroom she began to scream at him, and he fled. This went on for a whole day, and there was a real danger that she might die in the house and bring down the anger of
Ani
on the whole family, if not the entire village. Neighbours came in and warned the brothers of the grave danger to which they were exposing the nine villages of Umuofia.
In the evening they carried her into the bad bush. They had constructed a temporary shelter and a rough bed for her. She was now silent from exhaustion and hate and they left her and went away.
In the morning three of the brothers went again to the bush to see whether she was still alive. To their great shock the shelter was empty. They ran all the way back to report to the others, and they all returned and began a search of the bush. There was no sign of their sister. Obviously she had been eaten by wild animals, which sometimes happened in such cases.
Two or three moons passed and their grandfather sent a messenger to Umuofia to ascertain whether it was true that Akueke was dead. The brothers said “Yes” and the messenger returned to Ezi. A week or two later the old man sent another message commanding all the brothers to come to see him. He was waiting in his
obi
when his grandchildren arrived. After the formalitites of welcome muted by thoughtsof their recent loss he asked them where their sister was. The eldest told him the story of Akueke’s death. The old man listened to the end with his head supported on the palm of his right hand.
“So Akueke is dead,” he said, half question, half statement. “And why did you not send a message to me?” There was silence, then the eldest said they had wanted to complete all the purification rites. The old man gnashed his teeth, and then rose painfully three-quarters erect and tottered towards his sleeping-room, moved back the carved door and the ghost of Akueke stood before them, unsmiling and implacable. Everyone sprang to their feet and one or two were already outside.
“Come back,” said the old man with a sad smile. “Do you know who this young woman is? I want an answer. You Ofodile, you are the eldest, I want you to answer. Who is this?”
“She is our sister Akueke.”
“Your sister Akueke? But you have just told me that she died of the swelling disease. How could she die and then be here?” Silence. “If you don’t know what the swelling disease is why did you not ask those who do?”
“We consulted medicine-men throughout Umuofia and Abame.”
“Why did you not bring her here to me?” Silence.
The old man then said in very few words that he had called them together to tell them from that day Akueke was to become his daughter and her name would become Matefi. She was no longer a daughter of Umuofia but of Ezi. They stared before them in silence.
“When she marries,” the old man concluded, “her bride-price will be mine not yours. As for your purificationrites you may carry on because Akueke is truly dead in Umuofia.”
Without even a word of greeting to her brothers Matefi went back to the room.
Chike’s School Days
Sarah’s last child was a boy, and his birth brought great joy to the house of his father, Amos. The child received three names at his baptism—John, Chike, Obiajulu. The last name means “the mind at