T H E B R ID E P R IC E

There’s an old saying that ‘Love will always find a way’.

But is that true? What happens if love is forbidden by
customs and tradition, and so gets caught in a battle
between the old world and the new? How can love find a
way then? Tradition is not an easy enemy to fight.

Aku-nna is a young girl, and has much to learn about the

ways of the world. After her father’s death, she goes to live
in a small town where the old traditions are strong. Aku-
nna has no sisters to advise her; her brother, Nna-nndo, is
too young; her mother, M a Blackie, is too busy with her
new life. Only Chike, the schoolteacher, is kind and gentle
towards the shy, lonely girl.

But Aku-nna comes from a proud, free-born family, and

Chike is from a family who were once slaves . . .

N IG ER IA
The main characters in this story are Ibos (also spelt Igbos), most of
whom live to the east of the great Niger River (see the map on the next
page). Lagos, the capital city of Nigeria since colonial times, is in the
west, where the Yoruba people live. Aku-nna and her family lived
first in Lagos, and then in their ‘hometown’, Ibuza, a small Ibo town
near the Niger.

At the time o f this story, in the late 1950s, Nigeria had been under
British rule for about fifty years. Nigeria became independent
in 1960.
 OXFO RD BO O KW O RM S LIBRARY
Human Interest

The Bride Price

Stage 5 (1800 headwords)

Series Editor: Jennifer Bassett

Founder Editor: Tricia Hedge
Activities Editors: Jennifer Bassett and Christine Lindop
 BUCHI EM ECH ETA

The Bride Price

Retold by
Rosem ary Border

OXFORD U N IV ERSITY PRESS

 CO NTENTS

STORY I N T R ODUCT I ON i
MAP ii
PEOPLE IN THIS STORY viii

1 Father Goes Away 1

2 A Death in the Family 6
3 The Funeral 12
4 The Journey to Ibuza 18
5 Traditions 27
6 The Slaves 37
7 One of the Girls 45
8 Kidnapped! 51
9 A Forced Wedding 57
10 The Escape 61
11 Too Good to be True? 68
12 The Unpaid Price 73
13 Joy 78

GLOSSARY 86

activities: Before Reading 91

activities: While Reading 92
activities: After Reading 95
ABOUT THE AUTHOR 100
ABOUT B OOKWORMS 101
 P E O P L E IN T H IS ST O R Y
Ezekiel Odia
Ma Blackie, his wife
Aku-nna, their daughter (her name means ‘Father's Wealth’)
Nna-nndo, their son (his name means ‘Father is the Shelter’)
Uncle Uche
the children’s uncles
Uncle Joseph
Aunt Uzo
the children’s aunts
Aunt Mary
Dick, a houseboy in the apartment house in Lagos

Okonkwo Odia, elder brother o f Ezekiel, uncle o f Aku-nna

and Nna-nndo, and second husband ofM a Blackie
Ngbeke, Okonkwo’s Number One wife
Ogugua, their daughter, and cousin o f Aku-nna and
Nna-nndo
Iloba ) their sons, and cousins o f Aku-nna
Osenekwu j and Nna-nndo

Chike Ofulue, the schoolteacher

the ‘slave’ family
Ofulue, Chike’s father
Ben Adegor, Chike’s friend
Rose, Ben’s wife

The Obidi family

Okoboshi, the Obidis’ son

Father Osborne, in charge o f the church school

Zik, the dancing teacher
 1

Father Goes Away

A ku-nna turned the key in the lock and pushed open the
door of her family’s one-room apartment in Lagos,
Nigeria. To her surprise her father was standing there in his
work clothes, with his hat in his hand. He looked like a
criminal who had been caught stealing.
Aku-nna and her brother Nna-nndo stared at him. ‘You
ought to be at work,’ their silent looks said. ‘You ought to
be at the factory.’ But their father did not offer any
explanation.
Nna-nndo was eleven. He was a tall boy for his age. At
school he was just starting to write with ink, and he^
was proud of this. However, although he was very clever
in other ways, Nna-nndo was very slow at book work.
There was always ink on his fingers and on his school
uniform. Sometimes he rubbed ink on his woolly hair. When
people asked him why, he always replied, ‘Ink makes my
hair blacker!’ He loved a joke, just like their mother,
M a Blackie.
M a Blackie was a huge woman, as tall and straight as a
tree, with extremely black, shiny skin. She was always
smiling. But behind her smile M a Blackie had a problem.
She seemed unable to have another baby.
In 1945, the local men came back from the war in Burma.
All their wives had babies soon afterwards - all except M a
Blackie. Now, five years later, there was still no sign of

1
 The Bride Price

another child. Her husband, Ezekiel Odia, had sent her to

all the native doctors that he could afford, but without
success. At last she decided to make the two-hundred-mile
journey to her home town of Ibuza. There she asked the
river goddess to send her a baby.
While their mother was away, Aku-nna and Nna-nndo
had to take care of themselves and their father. He worked
hard at the factory, building railway engines, and his job
was important to him.
He was a small man with a small voice. People often
wondered why he had married such a big woman. The
answer was simple. Like most men of his age, Ezekiel had
married his bride when she was still a young girl. But
Ezekiel’s bride did not stop growing! They were a happy
couple and the difference in their height did not seem to
matter, except that when Ezekiel wanted to say something
serious to his wife, he had a habit of standing on his toes.

Today the children were surprised to see their father at

home. There he stood, anxiously turning his old hat over
and over in his hands. Aku-nna came nearer to him. She was
only thirteen, but she knew that all was not well in her
family. She often heard the other women talking about M a
Blackie’s childlessness. She often heard her parents arguing
too. Her father went on and on in his small sad voice,
reminding his wife how much she had cost him.
‘I paid double the normal bride price for you,’ he told her.
‘And we were married in church. But what have you given
me - just one son!’
He did not speak of Aku-nna. She was only a girl. Also,

2
 Father Goes Away

she was too thin. Her parents were ashamed of their bony,
unhealthy-looking daughter. And that was not all. Aku-nna
was often ill. If there was any sickness or fever in their street,
Aku-nna always caught it at once. Often her mother begged her
to decide once and for all whether she was going to live or die.
‘If there’s anything I hate,’ she said again and again, ‘it’s
an ogbanje —a “ living dead” !’
Ezekiel Odia often felt sorry for his daughter. She looked
like him, and she was like him in other ways too. She was
small, and not at all dark. Her skin was a light milk-
chocolate colour. Her eyes were large and shining. When
she was happy and excited, they shone like stars. When she
was sad, their light disappeared.
At her birth, her father named her Aku-nna, which means
‘Father’s wealth’, because he was thinking of the bride price
that she would fetch. To him that was something to look
forward to, and Aku-nna was determined not to disappoint
her father. She planned to marry a wealthy man who could
afford an expensive bride price.
‘I will not leave my father’s house without all the proper
ceremonies,’ she thought, ‘One for the beautiful goddess of
Ibuza, and one for the white man’s god in church. Then my
father will call up the spirits of his great-great-grandparents
and ask them to guide us.’

But on this burning-hot day Aku-nna forgot all about her

bride price and felt a new sympathy towards her father. She
moved nearer to him, sharing his anxiety.
Then he spoke. ‘They want me to go to the hospital for a
check-up. I shall be home for the evening meal.’

3
 The Bride Price

The children looked down at their father’s painful foot.

T h at stupid foot,’ Aku-nna said to herself. Tt always gives
poor Father a lot of trouble.’
It was the effect of the war. Her uncles had told her that.
T he white men could not fight in Burma,’ they told her. ‘It
was too hot and wet for them. So they sent West African
soldiers instead. Your father was lucky to come home alive.
Many African soldiers died - but not from the bombs. They
died of disease and fever and poisonous insects.’
Her father never talked about it, but his wounded foot
often swelled up, particularly during the rainy season. The
factory doctor did his best, and the native doctors asked
the spirits to make the foot well again, but still it some­
times swelled up. Now it had begun to trouble Ezekiel
again, and the other foot was starting to swell too. But
today he was wearing his work shoes, and his feet did not
look too bad.
‘So why,’ wondered Aku-nna, ‘does Father seem so
unhappy? He says he’s only going to the hospital for a
check-up. He’ll be back for his evening meal. So why is he
looking so anxious, so disturbed?’
Aku-nna did not ask her father this aloud. That is not the
way well-brought-up Nigerian children behave. Nigerian
children respect their parents and do not question them. But
the anxiety was still there. Something was very wrong, and
she knew it.
She laid her small hand on his and said, ‘I’m going to
make you hot soup and yams, just the way you like them.
So, Father, please hurry home and enjoy your evening meal
while it’s hot!’

4
 Father Goes Away

Ezekiel smiled lovingly at his daughter. For a moment the

sad look on his face disappeared.
‘Thank you, little daughter, but don’t tire yourself out.’
He put his hat on his shaved head. ‘The key to the big
cupboard is in my grey trousers. If you want any money,
take it from the big cupboard. But spend it very carefully.’
The children did not understand why their father was so
worried, and they were afraid to ask. Clearly he did not
wish to discuss the matter further. He became businesslike,
like someone preparing for a final departure. His work-
blackened hands touched this and that, picking things up
and putting them down again. He told them to be good
children, and to respect all adults. He told them to make
him proud of them, because he cared for them, because they
were his life. At last he went to the door.
‘I have to go now,’ he said, and added, ‘Always remember
that you are mine.’ His small lips were trembling and it
seemed to the children that he was trying desperately not to
cry. Helplessly they watched him. He touched each child
softly on the head, and went out of the door.
The children followed him. They wanted to beg him to
wait. But Ezekiel did not wait. He hurried like a man who
is called by the gods . . . He must obey, or be lost for
ever.
The children watched him go. Ezekiel crossed the dirt
road in front of the house in which they had their small
apartment. A lorry loaded with wood came slowly past
him. It blew up a cloud of dust that covered Ezekiel. He did
not turn to see if the children were watching him. He
just walked on. The dust from the lorry hid him from sight,

5
 The Bride Price

and when the dust blew away, Ezekiel had disappeared.

The children watched the empty road for a while. Then
they began to feel hungry, and decided to go in and eat.
They remembered their father’s words: ‘Always remember
that you are mine.’

A Death in the Family

T
he evening meal was ready, but Ezekiel did not come
home. ‘Soon it will be dark,’ thought Aku-nna. ‘If
Father doesn’t come home soon, I’ll tell the neighbours.
Then they will take care of us.’
She sat on the veranda outside the house, watching and
waiting for her father. Then she saw Uncle Uche and Uncle
Joseph coming towards her. She knew that her father did
not like them. Uncle Uche was the laziest man in town, and
Uncle Joseph never stopped talking about other people’s
business. But she was so glad to see two adults that she
jumped up and ran to greet them.
‘How are you?’ she said. ‘My brother is still out playing.
Father will punish him when he comes back.’
She smiled, but the uncles did not smile back. They
looked rather serious. But that was their business, and Aku-
nna did not ask questions. She showed them the good, hot
soup and the yams that she had cooked for her father.
Uncle Uche sat down tiredly. ‘You’ve done very well,’ he
said.

6
 A Death in the Family

Aku-nna sat on the veranda, watching and waiting for her father.

7
 The Bride Price

Uncle Joseph looked at her a little anxiously. T m thirsty,’

he said.
Aku-nna hurried to the shelf behind the curtain and
fetched her mother’s best glass. She poured some water from
the big water cooler and gave Uncle Joseph the glass. He
drank quickly and asked for more. ‘I hope Uncle Uche won’t
want any,’ she thought. ‘If he does, there’ll be no cool water
for Father when he comes home.’
But when Uncle Uche spoke, he did not ask for water.
‘Your father isn’t coming home tonight. He’s going to
stay in hospital for a while. They want to find out why his
feet are swelling like that. I’ll look after you and your
brother while he’s away.’
Aku-nna opened her mouth and closed it again. ‘Father
didn’t tell me the truth,’ she said to herself. ‘He said he’d be
back for the evening meal. Why did he lie to me, and tell
Uncle Uche the truth?’
She looked up at Uncle Uche, and she saw for the first
time that his eyes looked red and sore. He spoke gently to
her, telling her that the hospital was nothing to be afraid of.
But he and Uncle Joseph both seemed near to tears.

Three weeks went by, and still Ezekiel had not come home
from hospital. M a Blackie heard that her husband was ill,
and sent a message from Ibuza asking what was happening.
But her family in Lagos decided not to tell her the whole
truth. They sent a message back telling her not to worry.
‘Your children are being well looked after,’ they said.
‘Ezekiel will be in hospital for a day or two, but he will be
home very soon. Your business is with the river goddess.

8
 A Death in the Family

Don’t worry about your children - they are in safe hands.’

So M a Blackie stayed in Ibuza and concentrated on asking
for another child.
‘Father has been away exactly three weeks,’ thought Aku-
nna as she sat on the veranda. She wondered when she
would see her parents again. She missed them both very
much. For a short time she had enjoyed ‘playing house’, but
she soon became tired of it. ‘Why can’t things be the way
they used to be?’ she thought. ‘Everything has changed so
much.’
The sun was hanging like a huge red ball in the sky.
Whistles blew at the nearby factory. It was four o ’clock and
the workers were on their way home. The wives and
daughters of other families in the house picked up their pots
and their yams and hurried towards the kitchen that
everyone shared.
This kitchen was a large room with sixteen small wood-
burning stoves. There was a stove for each family. Each
cook lit the stove, then cooked the food in a pot on the
burning wood. Aku-nna had no father or husband to cook
for, so she just sat there, thinking and worrying.
Dick, one of the houseboys who worked for another
family in the house, looked towards her and looked away
again without speaking. M ost young Nigerian men spent a
year or two as houseboys. They worked for their unmarried
cousins or uncles and went to night school, while their male
relations saved up the bride price for their future wives.
Aku-nna’s own father had been a houseboy too. Usually
Dick laughed at Aku-nna, but today he seemed kind and
sympathetic. She wondered why.

9
 The Bride Price

Suddenly she heard a shout. ‘Aku-nna . . . oooo!’ It was

Aunt Uzo.
‘Yes, Auntie!’ Aku-nna called, jumping up and looking in
the direction of the shout. Aunt Uzo came nearer and
greeted her quietly.
‘I’m glad I’ve found you at last,’ she said. She looked
tired. In her arms she carried a big, strong baby boy. Aku-nna
saw the baby and smiled, and Uzo smiled too.
When she smiled the tiredness left Uzo’s face for a
moment and she looked young and carefree again. Then her
old tired look returned. But Aunt Uzo was not an old
woman. This baby was her first one, and he was eighteen
months old. Uzo was probably only about nineteen years
old, but her fat, greedy baby seemed to tire her out.
Uzo was a famous storyteller who knew hundreds of
wonderful stories. ‘Tonight I will tell you a new story,’ she
said. ‘Hurry and do your cooking now.’ As Aku-nna
hesitated, Uzo spoke sharply. ‘You heard me, girl - now
hurry!’
‘Why is it so urgent?’ Aku-nna wondered. ‘And what is so
different about today?’ She looked at Uzo’s face, but found
no answer there.
She went to the kitchen and tried to light her stove. But
the wood would not burn. She knelt down and blew and
blew. The smoke blew into her eyes and nose. Around her in
the smoke-filled kitchen other people were busy with their
cooking. Normally they sang and talked. Today they
seemed unusually quiet.
Dick was cooking at the stove next to Aku-nna. He
looked at her kindly. ‘Your wood isn’t dry enough,’ he said.

10
 A Death in the Family

‘Here, move your pot onto my stove. Tve finished now.’

Aku-nna was very surprised. Dick had never been so kind
to her before. She started to cook yams for herself and her
brother.
Soon she had finished. Her eyes were red and sore from
the smoke and her chest felt tight and painful. She stood up
and walked out of the kitchen with her pot on her head. On
her way back to their apartment she looked for her brother,
but without success.
She entered the apartment and found Uzo there, without
her baby. Uzo looked troubled, and Aku-nna noticed for the
first time that her eyes were red and swollen. She wanted to
ask why, but that would not be respectful. Uzo spoke
sharply to Aku-nna.
‘Hurry and eat your share of the supper. Your brother
will come home when he’s hungry. Don’t wait for him.’
Aku-nna obeyed, while Uzo stared emptily out of the
window. Then there was a loud knock at the door and Aunt
Mary appeared, holding Nna-nndo by the hand. She too
looked very unhappy.
Suddenly Aku-nna understood the reason for the sudden
visitors, their red, swollen eyes and the uncomfortable
silences.
‘Father is dead,’ she thought. But at the same time the
whole idea seemed unreal. ‘This isn’t happening to me,’
thought Aku-nna. ‘It’s just a dream. Soon I shall wake up
and Father will be here.’
Then her brother’s high, childish voice broke the silence.
‘We have no father,’ he said.
‘But Nna-nndo, you are wrong,’ thought Aku-nna. ‘It’s

11
 The Bride Price

worse than that. We have nothing. Our father named you

Nna-nndo, “ Father is the shelter” . We have not only lost
our father. We have lost our shelter too.’
It has always been like that in Nigeria. When you have
lost your father, you have lost everything. Your mother is
only a woman; she cannot do anything for you. A fatherless
family is a family without a head, a family without a home.

The Funeral

M
ost ceremonies in Nigeria combine European customs
with native ones. Ezekiel Odia himself was a Christian
and a church-goer, but he always called in a native medicine
man when he wanted one. Ezekiel’s funeral was like that
too, with both native and Christian ceremonies.
In Nigeria mourning is an art. You do not just cry; you
shout and sing about all the good things the dead person did
in his lifetime. Some people are such good mourners that
they are paid to mourn for complete strangers.
As soon as family and friends in Lagos heard of Ezekiel’s
death, the mourning began. Aku-nna and Nna-nndo were
the chief mourners. They were expected to cry particularly
loudly and desperately; after all, it was their father who had
died. Aku-nna had seen her mother cry at the deaths of
relations, so she knew what to do. She sang about her
father.

12
 The Funeral

‘My father was a good provider. My father went to

church every Sunday. He was a good husband to my mother,
Ma Blackie. He bought me many dresses. He was kind to
me. He sent me to school.’ This was followed by a long,
wordless cry of sadness. Then she sang, ‘Who will be kind to
me now? Who will send me to school? Who will feed me?
Who will be a good husband to my mother? . . . Mother,
come back from Ibuza! You have lost your husband. He
married you according to local custom, and then again in
the Christian church. And now he has gone. Come back,
Mother! You have lost the father of your children . . .’
Aku-nna did not stop, even when the other mourners
became tired. This was expected of a daughter. ‘She is doing
very well,’ the neighbours said to each other.
Nna-nndo did not use many words, but screamed and
threw himself about. The men held him so that he did not
hurt himself. He soon stopped crying, but Aku-nna was
encouraged to continue. It was right for girls to cry more
than boys.
By this time the room was full of people. They poured in
from all over Lagos. Each new arrival looked at the two
children, listened for a moment to Aku-nna’s crying, then
went out onto the veranda and started to cry too. They all
knew that death would come to everyone. So they did not
cry only for Ezekiel and his children. They cried for
themselves too.
Gradually, the mourners became tired. The first part of
their mourning was almost over, and one by one the men
went out into the open air. The near-relations of the dead
man remained inside the house, crying and singing.

13
 The Bride Price

The moon was full and bright. It was a hot night and the
men took off their shirts. They joined hands in a big circle
and began to move from side to side, wordlessly. Then a
voice rang out. The singer was calling on Death.
‘Wake up, Death, and see what you have done! You took
Nna-nndo’s father away from him! You took Ezekiel away
before he could enjoy the bride price from his daughter Aku-
nna. You took him away for ever and ever!’
Now the men began to dance - still in a circle, hand in
hand. Round and round they went, faster and faster, kicking
up clouds of dust, singing loudly and wildly. The women
came out to join their men. Soon the circle became too large
and broke up into several smaller ones.The men’s job was
done. They had called Death from sleep. Now it was the
turn of the women to sing for Ezekiel on his last, lonely
journey. Each woman had a gourd with small stones inside.
As they danced and sang, they shook the gourds and the
stones inside sounded like raindrops on a roof.
Then the Christian songs began. They mixed with the
noise of the gourds and the death songs and the crying of the
mourners inside the house, in one storm of sound. Then,
gradually, the mourners became tired, and the singing and
dancing and crying stopped. Cool native wine and plates of
nuts were handed round. Tired mourners slept on the
ground.
The moon disappeared. The grey morning mist was
everywhere; then the sun rose, and a new day began.
Indoors, Aku-nna had not slept much. There were too
many people, and some of them were noisy sleepers. At last
she got up carefully from between the sleeping bodies.

14
 The Funeral

‘Who will be kind to me now? Who will send me to school?

Who will feed me?’ sang Aku-nna.

15
 The Bride Price

One of her uncles was asleep across the doorway of the

room. He woke and greeted Aku-nna sleepily. When Aku-
nna tried to return the greeting, she discovered that she had
lost her voice. ‘How will I be able to cry at Father’s funeral
now?’ she thought.
She went to the big water pot. Every family had one, and
it was Aku-nna’s job to fill theirs for her family every
evening, so that her father could wash himself in the
morning before leaving for work. Aku-nna knew that she
had not filled the pot because of all the events of the evening
before. But when she lifted the tin cover, she was surprised
to find it full of cool water.
‘Who did this?’ she wondered. ‘Perhaps one of the
neighbours did it.’
Then suddenly the realization of her father’s death hit her.
‘I shall never see my father alive again,’ she thought. ‘His
death has changed my whole life.’ She wanted to cry aloud,
but she had no voice. Her whole body felt heavy with
sadness. But she used some water from the pot to wash her
face and mouth. Its coolness made her feel a little better. She
walked back to the apartment. Then she heard a voice
calling her name.
‘Aku-nna, oooo!’
She set out in the direction of the voice. She could not
answer; her throat was still too sore. Her chest felt heavy.
She pulled at her thin shirt.
‘Aku-nna!’ said Uzo crossly. ‘You’ll tear your shirt! You
have no father now, to buy you new clothes. Nobody will
buy you any until you marry. Then your husband will take
care of you.’

16
 The Funeral

‘Ah w ell/ said another woman, ‘they’ll marry her off

quickly. Then her bride price will pay for Nna-nndo’s
education.’
‘That won’t be difficult,’ said Uzo. ‘She’s not ugly, and
she’s nice and quiet and intelligent. Any educated man will
be glad to pay a good price for her.’
‘Is that supposed to make me feel better?’ thought Aku-
nna. Her fear of the unknown future grew and grew.
The sun climbed in the sky and the food-sellers were out
in the street, carrying their pots of hot foot on their heads.
‘What do you want for breakfast this morning?’ asked
Uzo.
‘I’m not hungry, thank you,’ replied Aku-nna. ‘Where is
Nna-nndo?’
‘He’s with M am a John. He’ll be all right. Come on, let’s
get some bananas for your sore throat. Mine is sore too,
after all that crying.’
The rest of the day was like a bad dream. People came and
went. They sang and danced and cried. Nna-nndo and Aku-
nna sat quietly among all the noise and the comings and
goings.
‘I wish the children’s mother was here,’ someone said.
‘They look so lost.’
They felt lost too. Suddenly there was a loud noise outside
the house, and for a moment the noise inside the house
stopped. The dancers stopped dancing, the Christians
stopped singing. Everyone began to shout and scream.
‘Cry now,’ shouted Uzo to Aku-nna. ‘Cry. Your father
went into hospital a few weeks ago, and now he has come
back! He has come to say his last goodbye.’

17
 The Bride Price

Then the children understood. Their father’s body had

been brought home. Aku-nna and her brother were taken to
a neighbour’s apartment, where they waited until Ezekiel’s
body was ready to see. Then they were called to pay their
last respects to their father in his narrow wooden box.
Uncle Uche pointed to little Nna-nndo. ‘Look,’ he
shouted to the other mourners. ‘Our brother is lying here
now, but he is not dead. He has left a son behind him. One
day we shall all be proud of Nna-nndo . . .’
The time soon came to close the box. Aku-nna looked
down at her father’s body. ‘How small he looks,’ she
thought, ‘and how different, in his best suit.’ She threw
herself down in a storm of crying. Then the box was closed
for ever.
Akinwunmi Street in Lagos had never seen such a long
line of mourners on their way to the graveyard. The factory
had sent their own special funeral car, with NIGERIAN
ENGINE FACTORY painted on the side in gold. Ezekiel’s
friends from work laid him in the car. Nna-nndo and his
sister followed the car, and after them came the singers from
the Christian church. Hundreds of friends and neighbours
followed, together with anyone else who felt like joining the
group. Last of all came the mourners with their death songs
and dances, their hand-clapping and their stone-filled
gourds. A horn-blower was there too, blowing and blowing
until his face was red. Other men had empty bottles and tin
teaspoons. They knocked the spoons against the bottles as
they walked along.
Ezekiel’s body was lowered into the grave. Nobody cried
any more. Aku-nna watched her brother pouring a handful

18
 The Funeral

of sand into the grave. Automatically, wordlessly, she did

the same. Then all the other mourners began pouring sand,
soil, stones, anything they could find, over her father’s body.
She wanted to call to them, to beg them to be gentle. Then
she realized how silly that was. Her father was dead. He
could not feel it.
The gravediggers were impatient to finish the job. The
sound of the soil hitting the box was like a final goodbye to
the children.

‘Always remember that you are mine,’ their father had said.
Aku-nna took her brother’s hand and they walked together
out of the graveyard.

The Journey to Ibuza

he journey from Lagos to Ibuza is like a bridge between

two different worlds. Lagos is a very busy port, the old
capital of Nigeria. But it is above all a town of the Yoruba
people. Ibuza, on the other hand, is a small town of the Ibo
people, and it lies near the great river Niger that gives
Nigeria its name.
Several weeks had passed since the funeral of Ezekiel
Odia. His wife, M a Blackie, had returned to Lagos from
Ibuza to find her husband already dead and buried. Friends
and relations were very kind to her and the two children,
but life in Lagos was too expensive for a fatherless family.

19
 The Bride Price

The bus carrying them to Ibuza drove through thick

and mysterious forests.

20
 The Journey to Ibuza

So M a Blackie and her children had to return to their home

town, Ibuza, where Okonkwo, Ezekiel Odia’s elder brother,
and his family lived.
The children were sad to leave Lagos. It was the only
home they had ever known, and Aku-nna wondered very
much what their new life would be like. As the bus carrying
them to Ibuza drove out of Lagos, she stared out of the
windows, thinking and worrying. She knew only that she
would have to marry, and that her bride price would help to
educate her brother Nna-nndo. She did not mind that too
much, but she wondered what her husband would be like.
She hoped she would not have to marry a farmer, as she had
heard how hard farm life could be for a woman. But there
was nothing she could do about it, except ask God to help
them all.
The bus hurried through many little Yoruba towns. After
it passed Benin, the countryside changed. The soil was
redder and the forests were thicker and more mysterious.
The women were tall and beautiful and carried themselves
proudly.
M a Blackie and the children slept a little during the night,
and before sunrise next morning they reached Asaba, which
was the nearest town to Ibuza. The bus stopped in the
market place near the river, and the children were woken by
the voice of a food-seller. ‘Buy my tasty rice! You’ll love it!’
Nna-nndo woke M a. ‘We’re hungry, M a,’ he insisted.
But M a was cross. ‘You haven’t washed your face, son.
Aku-nna, take your brother to the river. You must both
wash your faces and hands. Our relations will be here at
sunrise, because today is market day. I don’t want them to

21
 The Bride Price

see you both looking dirty. Take this pot and bring me some
water too, so that I can wash my face.’
‘But I want some rice now, M a,’ begged Nna-nndo.
‘No wash, no rice, do you hear me? Nice people wash
before they eat. Go and wash your face.’
Nna-nndo was ashamed. He followed his sister obediently,
looking back longingly at the rice-seller.
The sun rose, warm and golden. M a Blackie and the
children all enjoyed their rice, and little hot cakes too. While
they ate, their bags were unloaded from the bus.
‘Soon our people will come,’ said M a. ‘And they will take
us to Ibuza.’
‘Is it far to Ibuza?’ asked Aku-nna.
‘Only seven miles. We shall be home soon. Ah, look! Here
they come. They’ve seen u s!’
She pointed to a group of about fifteen women who were
coming towards them. Each was carrying a big basket of
cassava on her head. M a Blackie called out to them and they
hurried to welcome the Odia family. They were kind and
sympathetic.
‘We’ll sell our cassava quickly in the market,’ they told
Ma. ‘Then we’ll help you to carry your luggage to Ibuza.’
And in less than half an hour the women were back. They
shared the family’s bags and boxes between them, and they
all walked together towards Ibuza, talking cheerfully all the
way.
A big, loud-voiced girl called Ogugua carried Aku-nna’s
school books on her head. ‘I’m sure we shall be friends,’ said
Ogugua. Ezekiel’s elder brother Okonkwo was her father,
so she was Aku-nna’s cousin. ‘You know,’ she said, ‘we

22
 The Journey to Ibuza

were both born in the same week - you in Lagos, I in Ibuza.

I’ve heard so many nice things about you. We’ll be like
sisters - especially if your mother comes to live with my
father.’
‘Why should my mother live with your father?’ asked
Aku-nna, puzzled.
Ogugua laughed. ‘You’re almost fourteen and you still
don’t know our customs! Your mother will become my
father’s wife. My father has inherited everything your father
owned, and he has “ inherited” your mother too.’
‘Oh dear!’ cried Aku-nna.
‘Don’t worry, cousin. We shall all live happily together.
Look —you see that woman over there?’ She pointed to a
tall, thin woman in front, who was carrying M a Blackie’s
cooking pots on her head.
‘What about her?’ asked Aku-nna.
‘Well, her husband was a big man in a white man’s job
somewhere in Northern Nigeria. Three years ago he died
suddenly.’
‘How terrible!’ said Aku-nna.
‘Yes,’ agreed her cousin. ‘Well, they’d been married for
ten years, and they only had one daughter.’
‘How terrible!’ said Aku-nna again.
‘But listen,’ said Ogugua excitedly. ‘That woman was
inherited by her husband’s brother. He is a chief - an obi.
He has other wives, of course, so she’s not his first wife, but
she’s very happy. And now she has a son!’
‘Wonderful!’ cried Aku-nna, clapping her hands. ‘It’s just
like a story in a book.’
They were a long way behind the others now, and M a

23
 The Bride Price

Blackie turned and called out to them to hurry up. Suddenly

Aku-nna looked at her mother like a stranger. She realized
how tall and straight and handsome M a Blackie was. ‘Poor
M a,’ she thought, ‘She’s never had to work in the fields or
carry heavy baskets. I hope her new husband is kind to her.’
She thought about her own education. Her father had talked
of sending her to college, but there was no hope of that now.
‘I hope my new father will let me stay at school and get my
certificate,’ she thought. But there was nothing she could do
about that.
The women had started talking again and Ogugua was
listening to every word. But Aku-nna walked along deep in
thought.
Suddenly they heard a bicycle bell behind them. The rider,
a young man of perhaps eighteen or nineteen, was very tall
and thin, with a pointed chin. He was a teacher at the
church school in Ibuza, where Aku-nna and Nna-nndo
would be going. He knew M a Blackie and had heard of
Ezekiel’s death, so he greeted her warmly.
‘Children,’ said M a, ‘this is your new teacher.’
‘Good morning, sir,’ said Aku-nna and Nna-nndo shyly.
The teacher looked kindly at Aku-nna. She felt shy, and
looked down at the ground. He talked cheerfully for a
while, then rode off towards Ibuza.
They walked past the Ibuza farms with th^ir yam and
cassava plants, and they met men on their way to the fields.
When they reached the little Atakpo stream, they rested on
its bank.
‘Come and have a swim,’ said Ogugua to Aku-nna.
‘With all these people watching?’ said Aku-nna, shocked.

24
 The Journey to Ibuza

‘Don’t be shy, cousin. What are you hiding?’

‘Some men might see me,’ said Aku-nna. ‘What if that
teacher is still somewhere around? He might see me.’
Her cousin laughed. ‘What if he does? Why should your
body be more interesting than all the others? And anyway,
he’s had lots of girlfriends.’
Ogugua swam away from her cousin. She was not
pleased. She had seen the teacher staring at Aku-nna and she
was a little jealous. She swam back to the bank, where Aku-
nna was sitting with her tired feet in the cool water.
‘You must take care,’ Ogugua said. ‘Don’t get too friendly
with that teacher. He’s not one of us. No nice girl from a
good family is allowed to talk to him.’
‘Why? What do you mean?’ asked Aku-nna. But Ogugua
swam away again without answering.

They arrived in the village by mid-morning. Okonkwo was

waiting, and when he saw them in the distance, he took off
his good clothes and put on old, dirty ones. Then he sat
down on the floor and began to cry loudly. Other people
heard him and came to join in. It became a day of mourning
for Okonkwo’s brother, Ezekiel Odia.
‘Who married his wife in church?’ they sang. ‘Who
bought rich gifts for his children? Who was a good
provider?’ On and on they went.
‘How strange,’ thought Aku-nna. ‘Five minutes ago the
women were all discussing the latest fashions.’ When even
Ogugua began to cry, she had to do the same. ‘If this is how
they behave in Ibuza,’ she thought, ‘I’d better do the same.
After all, I’m going to be one of them.’

25
 The Bride Price

The young men of the village started to build a special

mourning hut for M a Blackie, and in less than two hours
they had finished. She had to stay there for nine full moons
and mourn for her dead husband. During that time she was
not allowed to leave her hut, or have a bath, or cut or comb
her hair. And the women had prepared an old, torn dress for
her to wear.
However, M a Blackie had arrived in a new black cotton
dress, which caused some argument among the women.
Some said that M a Blackie could wear her new dress during
her mourning time. Others said she must wear the old one.
It was Okonkwo who decided. He was the head of the
family, and he planned to become a chief as soon as he could
get enough money together. He had already inherited his
brother’s wife and everything his brother owned, and now
he was looking forward to getting a good bride price for his
brother’s daughter.
‘Let M a Blackie wear her new dress if she wants to,’ he
said kindly. ‘It’s bad enough that she’s a widow. Why must
she be dirty as well?’
Okonkwo’s three wives all understood the message
behind his words. Okonkwo wanted his dead brother’s
widow to stay in the family, to be his fourth wife.
 5

Traditions

buza was on the western side of the River Niger. Its

I inhabitants were Ibos and followed all the Ibo traditions.
Even those who left their village to work in the white men’s
world took their traditions with them. According to these
traditions, M a Blackie spent nine months in her special
mourning hut. Then a new hut was built for her and she
became Okonkwo’s fourth wife.
M a earned a little money by clever buying and selling.
With Ezekiel’s savings she bought oil. She sold it to the
white man, who took it back to England and made it into
soap. Then she bought the white man’s soap and sold it to
her people.
As the months passed, she became prouder than ever of
her children. Aku-nna was now almost fifteen. She was an
intelligent girl, with the promise of beauty in her large,
gentle eyes and smooth skin. Nna-nndo too was growing
fast and doing well. The fact that both children were at
school caused some jealousy in Okonkwo’s family. The
other wives did not mind too much about Nna-nndo. After
all, he was a boy. Also, in his lifetime Ezekiel had paid a few
shillings every week to the Church Friendly Society. This
meant that after his death the Society paid for his son’s
education up to the age of fifteen. So nobody, not even
Okonkwo, could take Nna-nndo away from school.
‘How clever of my brother,’ thought Okonkwo, ‘to

27
 The Bride Price

provide for his son in this way. Why didn’t I think of that
for my sons?’
But Okonkwo’s sons, Iloba and Osenekwu, had no use
for book-learning.
‘School,’ they said, ‘is no use to a free man. School is a
place to send your slaves.’
That was another tradition. In the old days, when the
white men first started their Christian schools, the local free
men had no use for them. They sent their slaves to school to
please the white men, while their own free-born sons stayed
at home and followed the old traditions. Later events
showed, however, that it was these educated slaves who got
the top jobs. The sons and grandsons of these ‘slave’ families
were now so rich and powerful that they seemed to
command the respect of everyone.
‘Why do you let your brother’s children go to school?’
demanded Okonkwo’s eldest son, Iloba. He was twenty
years old, and was a farmer, working hard to buy himself a
wife.
‘The Friendly Society pays for Nna-nndo,’ said his father.
‘Very well. But the girl —Aku-nna —why waste money on
her?’
‘It’s not my money that is wasted,’ answered Okonkwo.
‘Her mother pays for her education. And Aku-nna won’t be
going to college. She has only a few more months of school.’
He laughed loudly. His sons looked puzzled. ‘You don’t
understand,’ said Okonkwo. ‘Don’t you know that I hope to
become a chief, an O bi?’
To become an Obi a man had to offer a large, expensive
gift to the gods. Then he received the red hat which was the

28
 Traditions

sAku-nna’s bride price will come to me/ said Okonkwo.

 The Bride Price

mark of a chief, and there were days of celebration. Indeed,

in the old days a slave was put to death to celebrate this
great event. It all cost a great deal of money.
‘Well, what has that to do with Aku-nna?’ Iloba asked.
‘Aku-nna and your sister Ogugua will get married at
about the same time. Their bride prices will come to me, and
these days, people pay more for educated girls.’
Now his sons understood. ‘So Aku-nna’s name will come
true,’ they thought. ‘She will truly become a “ father’s
wealth” . Unfortunately, her own father did not live to enjoy
this wealth. But not to worry —Okonkwo is almost a father
to her now.’ They smiled at their father’s cleverness. ‘He
needed money in order to become an 0 6 /,’ they thought.
‘Aku-nna’s bride price will provide that money. She will
marry a rich man, and make us rich too.’
They walked silently to the hut of their mother, Ngbeke,
who was Okonkwo’s first wife. At the door Iloba said, ‘It’s
happening everywhere these days. Didn’t you hear, the local
doctor is getting married to a girl whose parents are asking
for two hundred pounds for her.’
‘Two hundred pounds? What’s so special about her?’
demanded Osenekwu.
‘She’s a hospital nurse. That’s all. People who’ve seen her
say that she’s riot particularly beautiful. But they say the
doctor loves her.’
‘Perhaps, but that is a lot of money to pay for an ordinary
woman,’ his brother answered. He thought for a moment
and added, ‘I hope we get plenty of money for Aku-nna.’
They both laughed as they bent their tall bodies to go
through the low doorway into their mother’s hut.

30
 Traditions

Ngbeke looked at her sons sharply. ‘What have you two

and your father been talking about?’ she demanded.
‘It is talk between men,’ replied seventeen-year-old
Osenekwu importantly. ‘Ogugua, our sister, please bring
our food!’
‘Ogugua is filling my pipe for me,’ their mother said
shortly.
In fact, Ogugua was doing nothing. She was sitting
combing her hair and listening to every word. She took the
big pipe and began to fill it. She lit it with a burning stick
from the fire and handed it to her mother. Ngbeke took a
big mouthful of smoke before she spoke again.
‘So my sons are so grown up that I can no longer share
their thoughts?’ she demanded. She laughed bitterly, showing
^ her black teeth, which were the result of years of smoking.
‘Well, I will tell you something. I am Okonkwo’s first wife,
and I say that he’s making a big mistake. H e’s wrong to
expect so much from his brother’s daughter.’
Iloba cried, ‘But Mother, Aku-nna is like a daughter to
him now. In fact, according to our law and tradition she is
his daughter now.’
‘Be quiet and eat your yams, my son,’ replied his mother.
‘You know nothing.’
‘Aku-nna is going to marry a rich man,’ said Osenekwu.
‘She’ll make us all rich.’
‘Be quiet!’ said his mother. ‘What rich man is she going
to marry? The son of a slave, who teaches at her school?
Can you be sure that her mother will not keep the bride
price for herself? You forget that her mother was married in
the church. She was educated by the white men and she

31
 The Bride Price

knows their laws. Oh, you forget many things, my sons.’

Ngbeke’s sons did not understand. What was she talking
about? Surely M a Blackie was not taking advantage of their
father, just to educate her own children?
Iloba shouted, ‘My father will have that bride price! No
one else can use the money!’
‘What about Nna-nndo?’ said his mother. ‘A few days
ago M a Blackie told me that she wanted him to go to
college. How will she pay for that? The white man’s law will
be on her side if she demands her daughter’s bride price to
pay for her son’s education. So you had better tell your
father to stop dreaming about bride prices. Who will want
her anyway? She’ll never have children; she’s too small and
thin. And she’s not even a woman yet! Look at your sister —
she’s the same age, and she’s a real woman. You could
marry her off tomorrow! That Aku-nna will come to no
good, I tell you. She and her mother are too proud.’
Ngbeke’s sons stared. They did not see the jealousy in
their mother’s eyes. ‘She could be right,’ they thought. ‘It’s
true. Aku-nna is different. She’s not allowed to play rough
games in the moonlight, or to join in the dancing at
Christmas. She’s too soft and quiet. And that teacher is
always lending her books! Yes, perhaps Mother is right.
Here she is, nearly fifteen, still at school and not yet ready
for marriage. What kind of girl is that?’
‘Mother,’ said Iloba aloud, ‘do you think she might be an
ogbanje, a “ living dead” ?’
His mother was glad. Her sons had not noticed her
jealousy. Ngbeke did not like M a Blackie and was very
jealous of her. She did not mind Okonkwo’s two younger

32
 Traditions

wives, because they respected and obeyed her. But M a

Blackie was handsome and intelligent and proud. However,
Ngbeke had to hide her true feelings from her sons.
6Yes, I’m sure Aku-nna is an ogbanje,’ she said. ‘She’s too
quiet. I must speak to her mother about it tomorrow. An
ogbanje doesn’t belong in this world. They all die young,
usually at the birth of their first child. They have to die
young, because their friends in the other world call them
back. I’m glad that none of my daughters is an ogbanje.’
‘Can’t we save her, M other?’ asked Iloba. He was
frightened now. Although he was only twenty, he had seen
many young girls die in childbirth. Their deaths were always
very painful, and he did not want his little cousin Aku-nna
to die like that.
‘Perhaps,’ said Ngbeke, ‘if you have a good medicine
man. It all costs a lot of money. That is what her mother
should be doing. And she should certainly not let Aku-nna
talk to the son of Ofulue!’
‘Chike Ofulue?’ cried Iloba in horror. ‘The school
teacher? But he’s the son of slaves, Mother, and he knows it.
Chike is only Aku-nna’s teacher. She has to talk to him,
because she’s his student. But she can’t be interested in him,
she really can’t!’
‘If she is, I will kill her,’ said Osenekwu softly.
All this time Ogugua had been listening quietly. Aku-nna
was her friend, as well as her cousin. She could not accuse
her mother of jealousy; that was not respectful. But she did
her best.
‘Chike likes Aku-nna,’ she said, ‘But that’s only because
she’s eager to learn and he wants to help her. He knows he’s

33
 The Bride Brice

from a slave family. He was born here and knows our

customs. He’s sure to marry a girl from another slave
family, not the daughter of a free family from Ibuza.
Brothers, there’s no need to worry.’
There is no smoke without fire, my children,’ said
Ngbeke.
‘It’s just talk, M other,’ said Ogugua. ‘How could a quiet
girl like that interest a clever man like Chike, a teacher —and
a slave?’
‘Perhaps you’re right,’ said her mother. ‘But don’t forget
that Chike’s family have money. And money buys a lot these
days . . .’

‘No smoke without fire,’ Ngbeke had said, and she was
right. Chike Ofulue was falling in love with his fifteen-year-
old student. He was helpless to stop himself. He had never
seen a girl so unsure of herself, so afraid of her own people.
The school in Ibuza where Chike taught was a church as
well. It was a long, white building, with round windows and
a roof covered in leaves.
When they had started coming to this school a year ago,
the first thing that Aku-nna and her brother had noticed was
the size of the boys. M ost of them were young men. There
were only three girls in the whole school, and Aku-nna was
the oldest of them. On that first day she had felt very lost
and shy, and had almost jumped when she heard a voice
saying ‘hello’ behind her.
She had turned to find the teacher behind her, and had
said, shyly, ‘Good morning, sir.’
‘What do you think of our school?’ he had asked her. ‘I

34
 Traditions

‘What do you think of our school?’ Chike asked Aku-nna.

35
 The Bride Price

expect it seems very different from your school in Lagos.’

He was right, but she had been too shy to answer. She just
smiled politely.
Before school began on that first day, there had been a
short service. Afterwards, the white man in the white suit,
who was in charge of the church, spoke to them all. His
name was Father Osborne, and he came from England. But
he was certainly not speaking English. Then Aku-nna
caught a few words, and she realized that this big, kind man
with the sun-burned face was trying to speak Ibo, her own
language. He welcomed them all to school after the holidays
and hoped they would all work hard. He hoped all their
families were well. ‘Please give my personal greetings and
best wishes to everyone,’ he said. The whole school clapped
and cheered. Father Osborne’s Ibo was a little odd, but he
had said the right thing, after all.

After a year, Aku-nna and Nna-nndo had become used to

Ibuza. At school they learned the white man’s ways. Then
they came home to the countless, unchanging traditions of
their own people. They were trapped, like two helpless little
fish, between the two sets of traditions.
One thing Aku-nna knew for certain. Her mother no
longer had any time for her: she was too busy with her
business and her new husband. Aku-nna was a very
unimportant member of a large and busy family. She was a
quiet and lonely girl. But to Chike Ofulue she was becoming
very special indeed.
 6

The Slaves

6 T n the sight of God, we are all the same.’ That was what
A Father Osborne said, and that was what all good
Christians believed. But in the eyes of his own people Chike
still belonged to a family who had once been slaves, and no
free man would allow a slave to marry his daughter.
None of this worried Chike much. He was handsome, and
the local girls pretended not to know that he was from a
slave family. After all, his family had produced many rich
and successful men. In fact, he looked down on the local
girls. They were not good enough for an educated man like
him. He enjoyed himself with them, but he did not respect
them.
Chike’s parents knew about his adventures with local
girls, but did not try to stop him. He had the money and the
freedom to choose his own pleasures. So Chike was
surprised when one day his father called him into his sitting-
room for a talk.
It was a big, comfortable room with leather armchairs
and a lot of family photographs on the walls. Chike’s
father, Ofulue, had been a teacher too. He had four wives,
all from nearby towns, and he had enjoyed a comfortable,
successful life. The people of Ibuza never forgave him for
this and never, for example, allowed him to become a chief.
‘When the son of a slave becomes a chief,’ the free men
said, ‘then we know that the end is near!’

37
 The Bride Price

Ofulue was amused by it all. He did not want the people

of Ibuza to do anything for him. He was a wealthy man and
his children had important jobs in the schools and the
hospitals.
Now Ofulue spoke seriously to Chike.
‘I knew Aku-nna’s father well. I would not like a son of
mine to bring shame on his daughter. I saw the way you
were looking at her in church. Everybody noticed it. I beg
you not to harm that girl.’
Chike was surprised. He thought that he had succeeded in
hiding his feelings. He said: "I care for her. She is so alone.
But I could never harm her.’
Ofulue looked hard at his son. ‘You will have to study
hard if you want to get to university this year.’
Chike felt angry. ‘How could my father say such a hurtful
thing?’ he thought. ‘He knows perfectly well that I passed
all my examinations, but they still did not give me a
scholarship.’ That had hurt Chike terribly at the time. He
still felt upset about it - why was his father reminding him
now?
‘Clearly they did not think I was good enough for a
scholarship,’ he said bitterly.
‘Perhaps it’s because you want to study sociology,’ said
his father. ‘Perhaps the examiners have never heard of it.
What can you do with a sociology degree? Can’t you study
something different, like law ?’
Chike stared at the photographs on the walls. Each
showed a successful member of the Ofulue family. ‘So he
wants me to be a doctor, or a lawyer or an engineer,’ he
thought. ‘It’s OK to talk about “ my son the doctor” , or “ my

38
 The Slaves

son the lawyer” , or “ my son the engineer” . But who can talk
proudly of “ my son the sociologist” ?’
He said aloud, ‘I don’t want to change, Father. Sociology
is very useful.’
Then try again this year. Don’t worry if they don’t give
you a scholarship. I’ll pay for you to go away to university.’
Chike was beginning to understand. ‘So Father wants me
to leave Ibuza,’ he thought.
Ofulue had never paid for higher education for any of his
children, simply because there were too many of them. To
be fair to all his wives, he had given every child the chance to
take School Certificate. After that, each child was on his - or
her —own. Girls were not particularly encouraged, but no
one said no to them — if they won a scholarship. N o
scholarship, no education. Obviously Ofulue was very
worried about Chike’s relationship with Aku-nna, if he was
willing to send Chike to university without a scholarship.
Chike felt angry again.
‘Surely she must be married one day?’ he demanded.
His father looked at him very hard. ‘Yes, of course - but
not to you. You will leave that girl alone!’ he said sharply.
‘Now go!’
Chike did not sleep at all that night.

They say that forbidden fruit tastes sweet. Because Aku-nna

was forbidden, Chike wanted her more than ever. Aku-nna
too had been warned about Chike, but she did not
understand what her family was warning her against. She
did not know the history of ‘slave’ families. Although, under
the white man’s law, nobody could own a person as a slave

39
 The Bride Price

now, people did not forget which families had been slaves in
the old days. But nobody had explained to Aku-nna what it
meant to be from a ‘slave’ or a ‘free’ family.

Chike tried hard to prepare his students for their exam­

inations. The day after his meeting with his father, he spoke
to Aku-nna as little as possible. But that day Aku-nna
seemed slow and stupid, and could not answer any of
Chike’s questions. In the end he became angry.
‘What’s the matter with you, Aku-nna?’ he demanded.
‘Didn’t you do your homework?’
‘She didn’t have time,’ said a boy behind her. ‘She was
with her boyfriends.’ The boys all laughed. Aku-nna burst
into tears and the boys laughed louder than ever.
‘Who said that?’ Chike asked angrily. A boy stood up.
‘You should be ashamed of yourself,’ said Chike. All the
boys looked uncomfortable. ‘Aku-nna, you may go,’ said
Chike gently. ‘Now, everyone — open your books at page
eleven.’
Aku-nna rushed blindly out of the room. What was the
matter with her? She did not know. She sat down heavily
under a big orange tree at the end of the school field, and
cried and cried. Tears poured down her face like rain water.
She let them flow. It was quiet and private under the orange
tree. She watched two little birds feeding their babies. They
looked so happy together. ‘I am alone,’ she thought. ‘There
is nobody I can talk to.’
In the distance the school bell rang, but that was in
another world. Aku-nna was alone in her private world of
tears and loneliness.

40
 The Slaves

‘Aku-nna, you need your certificate, don’t you?’ said a

gentle voice.
She looked up and saw Chike standing over her. ‘If you
fail your examination, your family won’t let you take it
again.’
Aku-nna could not answer. She just looked up at his
anxious face, then down at his neat white shoes. Tears filled
her eyes again. Chike sat down beside her under the orange
tree. He said, ‘I will help you to pass your examination
before I leave this horrible place.’
‘Leave? Where are you going?’ The anxiety in her voice
showed how much she cared.
‘University,’ he said. He took her hand, and rather
roughly he pulled her to her feet.
As she stood up, she felt a pain in her back. Her legs felt
weak and she felt strangely cold, although it was a warm
day.
‘Do you want me to go?’ he asked.
She shook her head. She did not want to seem badly
brought up. So how could she tell him how she felt about
him? Tears filled her eyes again.
‘Why are you so sad?’ said Chike kindly. ‘Why do you cry
so much? I’d like to make you cry with happiness! Come
now, we must go back to school.’ Then he stopped, and
looked sharply at Aku-nna. ‘Child, you’re bleeding! There’s
blood on your dress.’
She turned round quickly and saw the blood. At first she
thought that she had hurt herself. Then she realized what
was happening to her. She had heard the women talk about
this bleeding. When they were bleeding like this, women

41
 The Bride Price

were ‘unclean’ and for those few days each month, there
were a lot of things they were not allowed to do.
‘So now I am a woman too,’ she thought. ‘I can be
married. Any man can cut a piece of my hair, and carry me
away.’ That was the tradition. That piece of hair made the
girl his, for ever.
Suddenly the pain became more violent, and she felt
deeply ashamed. She wanted to run away from Chike. How
could she let him see her like this?
Chike came nearer. He did not care if anyone saw them.
He wanted to marry this girl, even if he had to break all the
laws of his people. He held her tightly. ‘Is this the first time?’
he asked.
‘Yes,’ she whispered.
They stood there for a long time. Neither of them wanted
to go. Then the pain came again.
‘Sit down and wait here,’ he said. ‘I’ll get you something.’
She obeyed. ‘Of course, Chike knows all about such
things,’ she thought. ‘He has sisters of his own, after all. But
how can I keep my secret? If Okonkwo finds out about this,
he will want me to marry at once, because he wants my
bride price. But I want to stay at school and get my
certificate. What can I do?’
Chike returned with a glass of water and two white
tablets. He gave her his big wool jacket that he wore on cold
mornings. Then, as she took the tablets, he said, ‘Can you
keep quiet about this? Don’t tell anyone till after the exam.’
‘How can I hide it?’ she asked. ‘I sleep in the same hut as
my mother; she’s sure to notice.’
‘My brother is a doctor. I know what white women use.

42
 The Slaves

Go home now. I’ll tell your brother that you have a

headache. And please make sure that your dress is covered
by that jacket.’ He added, ‘I love you,’ and walked away.
‘I must hurry home,’ thought Aku-nna, ‘before anyone
sees me.’ The tablets helped the pain in her back, but she still
felt very conscious of the blood on her dress.
Her mother’s hut was a mile from the school. By the time
she got there, her head was aching and she felt sick. There
was a little water in the pot, and she washed herself with it.
‘My brother will be angry when he comes home and finds
the pot empty,’ she thought. But she felt too ill to care. She
lay down and fell into a troubled sleep.
‘Aku-nna!’ Her brother was calling. ‘What’s the matter
with you this time? You’re always ill.’ He went to the water
pot. It was a hot afternoon and he was thirsty. But the pot
was empty.
‘This pot was almost full this morning. What’s happened
to it?’
‘Perhaps M a drank it,’ said Aku-nna.
‘Liar! If you think I’m going to go to the stream just for
you, you’re mistaken. What did you do with the water,
anyway?’
She did not reply, and he did not insist on an answer.
Then he went out to borrow some water from a neighbour.
Aku-nna was glad to see him go. She fell asleep again.
Later her cousin Ogugua came into the hut. ‘What’s the
matter? Have you forgotten that we promised to meet our
mothers and help them to carry their shopping home?’
‘I’m not well,’ said Aku-nna. ‘Please carry some of my
mother’s things for her.’

43
 The Bride Price

Ogugua filled a lamp with oil and lit it. In the soft yellow
light she studied her cousin’s face.
‘It’s a headache, isn’t it? Your eyes are very red. Don’t
worry, I’ll carry your mother’s shopping for her.’
Aku-nna did not lie down again. ‘M a will be home soon,’
she thought. Then she heard a gentle knock at the door.
It was Chike. He sat down beside her and put his arm
around her.
‘What shall we do?’ he asked her.
‘Tell my people that you want to marry me,’ she
whispered.
‘How can I?’ he demanded. ‘Haven’t you heard that my
father is the son of a slave?’
‘Don’t say that,’ said Aku-nna. ‘There is no other person
for me in this world, Chike . . .’
He started kissing her, the way the white men did in films.
Aku-nna had read about kissing in True Love Stories. She
found that she did not particularly enjoy it, but Chike
obviously did. ‘You will always be mine,’ he whispered in
her ear.
‘What will he do next?’ she thought anxiously. She stood
up. ‘My mother will be home soon,’ she said.
Just then they heard voices outside the hut. Chike waited
to welcome M a Blackie and Nna-nndo home.
‘Aku-nna felt ill in school,’ he explained. ‘So I came to see
how she was. Look, I’ve brought her this bottle of headache
tablets. I hope she’ll be better soon.’
M a Blackie said, ‘She’ll be back at school tomorrow.’ She
gave him a long, hard look that said, ‘Be careful!’
‘Good night,’ said Chike. M a Blackie answered, but Aku-

44
 One o f the Girls

nna did not. So many things had happened to her in one

day, so many things that she did not understand.

One of the Girls

A ku-nna had at last begun to feel that she was an Ibuza

girl, and she and the other girls of the same age
did everything together, except one thing. Every market
day at Asaba, Aku-nna met Chike. The two of them sat in
a quiet place by the river, and talked. He was teaching her
the latest songs from a book that he had ordered from Lagos.
Once or twice he gave her a gentle kiss, but that was all. To
him she was very special, and he did not want to harm
her.
She was getting to know Chike better. Although he talked
a lot in the schoolroom, he was often quiet with her. They
sat and listened to the sound of the river and the song of the
birds, and the music of their own hearts.
Although these meetings remained a secret, it was obvious
to everyone that Chike Ofulue was uncontrollably in love.
Again and again his father warned him. Chike politely told
his father that he was not going away to university without
Aku-nna. ‘What do I want a degree for, anyway?’ Chike
said. ‘It might get me a better job, but will it make me a
happier person? I want Aku-nna, Father. There is no other
girl in the world for me.’
‘If you marry her,’ said his father, ‘her family will never

45
 The Bride Price

Every market day I throw Aku-nna’s bananas into the river

and we sit and talk . .

46
 One o f the Girls

forgive us. Already they hate us because we are wealthy and

successful.’
‘Father, I’m sorry to cause you so much trouble. But I
dream about this girl every night. We’re so happy, every
market day, when I’ve thrown her bananas into the river
and we sit and talk . . .’
His father smiled. ‘And who pays for these bananas that
you throw away, my son?’
‘I do, Father. They don’t cost much —only three shillings.
She buys them for one shilling and sixpence, then she has to
sell them in the market for three shillings. I buy them, then
we throw them in the river and we have the rest of the day
for ourselves. It’s my only chance of talking to her. Her hut
is always full of people.’
‘Son, I must ask you one thing. Do not harm this girl! All
girls must be virgins when they go to their husbands.’
‘Father, nobody must have her except me.’
‘And you must not kidnap her either. I know my mother
was a slave, but I know how to behave. Tell me when she is
ready to be married, and I’ll visit her family and ask for her
in the proper way.’
‘And if they refuse, Father, what can we do?’
‘We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. We can’t do
anything until she’s a woman. Keep your eyes and ears
open, and be ready to ask for her as soon as she’s ready.’
The next day Chike told Aku-nna about this conversation
with his father.
‘Are your parents coming to ask for me in the proper way,
then?’ she asked.
‘Yes,’ he said.

47
 The Bride Price

She looked sadly at Chike. ‘There will be trouble,’ she

said. The sun was setting and it was time for him to leave
her. He held her tightly.
‘I will come to your hut in three days’ time,’ he promised.

Three days later, on the afternoon of the day Chike was

expected, Aku-nna and her friends all went out to look for
firewood. There were about twelve of them and they felt
safe and strong. O f course, they had no enemies, but in
Ibuza an innocent young girl was not always safe. A man
with no money to pay a bride price could hide behind the
trees. He could jump out and cut a piece of hair from a girl’s
head. If he did that, she belonged to him for life and no
other man could have her. That was why so many girls cut
their hair very short . . . But there was safety in numbers.
When they reached the place where the firewood was,
they hurried off in ones and twos. Aku-nna found a
particularly big piece of wood. She pulled at it, but it would
not come. She pulled harder, and the wood broke suddenly.
She fell to the ground, scratching her hand. At that moment
she felt a sharp pain in her back. This was the third time,
and she knew what to expect. She still had not told her
mother, but she knew she could not hide the blood from her
friends this time.
Aku-nna sat on the ground and wondered what to do. She
could not ask Chike; he was out fishing. ‘Well,’ she thought,
‘I shall have to tell my mother - but it means I can be
married off at any time.’ She was afraid of the future and
wished things could stay as they were.

48
 One o f the Girls

As she sat there, she remembered another problem.

According to native tradition, the river god did not allow
unclean women in his river.
Just then she heard someone calling her name. Aku-nna
stood up. Her back ached and she felt stiff all over.
Ogugua’s face appeared through the leaves.
‘Aku-nna,’ she whispered. ‘What’s the matter?’
Aku-nna told her, and Ogugua laughed and clapped her
hands. She called to the others. ‘Listen, girls!’ cried Ogugua.
‘We went out to fetch firewood with a girl, and we’re
coming home with a woman!’
Aku-nna felt mean and dishonest. After all, this was not
really her first time.
The sun was going down as the girls walked home,
singing and talking.
‘Who are you going to marry?’ the other girls asked Aku-
nna. ‘Has anyone asked for you yet?’
Aku-nna shook her head. But Ogugua laughed. ‘Many
men have asked for her,’ she said, ‘and my father told them
that she was still only a child. But not any more!’
‘Who has asked for her?’ they demanded.
‘The Nwanze family, and the Chigboes. And the Obidi
family want her for their son, Okoboshi.’
Aku-nna had been at school with Okoboshi, and had not
liked him at all. ‘You say Okoboshi’s father asked for me in
marriage?’ she said.
‘Yes - and now lots more men will ask for you. You will
fetch a big bride price, and everyone will be glad!’
Aku-nna was miserable. ‘Surely M a will not let me marry
that horrible O koboshi!’ she thought. ‘M a promised me that

49

I
 The Bride Price

I could teach for a year or two before marrying. She will

never let my uncle maray me off so soon.’
Aku-nna did not know everything, however. M a Blackie
was expecting Okonkwo’s baby, and all she wanted was
peace and quiet. She had no time for her daughter, and she
could never refuse anything to the father of her baby. Aku-nna
was alone, without the support of her mother.
The girls became quiet as they reached the stream. There
was an old man there, with three old women. A long way
along the bank Chike was quietly fishing. The other girls
started to undress, but Aku-nna hesitated. The old man
shouted to her.
‘What’s the matter? Don’t be shy, dear!’
The old women guessed at once, and told him to be quiet.
They called to Aku-nna. ‘Come along, my dear. The river
god will forgive you. He will know it is not your fault. And
congratulations!’
Suddenly Aku-nna heard someone whistling. It was
Chike. He had come nearer, and was whistling their
favourite song.
‘Brown skin girl, stay at home with the baby,
I have to go in my sailing boat . . .’
He turned away from her and concentrated on his fishing.
But Aku-nna knew that he understood.
 8
Kidnapped!

T
hat evening was a time for celebration. M a Blackie
greeted her daughter with tears of happiness. Okonkwo
was pleased too. Today was a very special day for him, and
he ordered a party for Aku-nna.
‘I’m glad I inherited M a Blackie,’ he thought. ‘Now the
girl’s bride price will come to me. I wonder who will pay the
highest price?’
Then he called to Aku-nna. ‘Remember, Chike Ofulue is
only a friend,’ he said. ‘Now that you’re a woman, that
friendship must die!’
‘How can he behave like this?’ thought Aku-nna. ‘He’s
been in love, and knows what it’s like. How can he forbid
me to see the man I love?’ But she knew the answer. He was
not being unkind. He was simply obeying the laws of his
people. Sadly she returned to her mother’s hut.
M a Blackie was sitting outside the hut with her friends.
They were all laughing and talking loudly. ‘Get ready,’ she
said to Aku-nna. ‘Soon the young men will come to visit
you.’
Aku-nna knew the custom. Now that she was a woman,
the young men of the village were allowed to visit her. She
took two headache tablets and put on her best skirt and her
new pink shirt. Already she could hear the voice of her first
visitor. It was the boy Okoboshi.
‘May I come in?’ he called.

51
 The Bride Price

‘I’ll kill myself if I have to marry him / thought Aku-nna.

Aloud she called, ‘Just a moment.’ Then she heard more
voices. She came out o f the hut to greet the young men. Each
gave her a little present. She thanked them shyly, while they
looked suspiciously at each other. Then they all went inside
the hut, according to local tradition.
‘Why hasn’t Chike come?1 wondered Aku-nna. ‘Surely
they can’t prevent him from seeing me? Will those women
outside the hut try to frighten him away?’
Then she heard M a Blackie’s voice outside the hut. ‘Go in,
then, but not for long. I shall be sending everyone away
soon. I need my sleep, you know.’
Chike came into the hut. He greeted the other young men.
Nobody answered, and before he could sit down beside
Aku-nna, Okoboshi came forward.
‘A free man can sit where he likes,’ said Okoboshi. He sat
down beside Aku-nna and put his hand inside her shirt.
Aku-nna screamed, and Chike hit Okoboshi in the face.
Aku-nna expected the others to attack Chike, but nobody
moved.
M a Blackie came rushing in to see what all the noise was
about. She saw Okoboshi lying on the mud floor with his
mouth covered with blood. She gave a little cry and turned
to Chike.
‘If you must fight, do it somewhere else!’
‘M a,’ begged Aku-nna, ‘don’t be angry with Chike.
Okoboshi was horrible. Look - he has torn my new shirt!’
‘Don’t be so shy and silly. How can he harm you with all
those young men watching? I suppose you’d rather let a
slave touch you!’

52
 Kidnapped!

‘How can M a do this to me?’ thought Aku-nna. ‘I thought

she liked Chike.’ She burst into tears.
Then Chike was standing beside her. His nearness gave
her strength. Friends and neighbours were loudly comforting
M a Blackie.
‘Don’t worry,’ they were saying. ‘She’ll soon forget this
slave, and marry a nice suitable boy. Now don’t worry. Just
concentrate on your new baby.’
That was another surprise for Aku-nna. So her mother
was expecting Okonkwo’s child! ‘Now he has made her
dreams come true,’ thought Aku-nna. ‘She won’t be able to
refuse him anything. If he wants to marry me off, she’ll let
him do it!’
At last the young men left and Aku-nna was able to go to
bed. But she did not sleep much.

The next few days were quiet and nothing much happened.
Then the night of the dance practice came. In Ibuza
Christmas was an important time for everyone. The schools
were closed and the teachers were on holiday. People who
were working away from home came to celebrate Christmas
with their families. Every Christmas, the fifteen-year-old
girls did a special dance. The girls knew that for most of
them it would be their last Christmas in their fathers’
homes. So several times a week they practised the aja
dance.
Aku-nna had not practised the dance with her friends in
the beginning, because of her examinations. But now the
examinations were over and all she could do was wait for
the results. So now she joined in the dance practices.

53
 The Bride Price

Ogugua helped her, and Aku-nna began to enjoy the

dancing very much.
The dance teacher was a tall, thin, proud old man called
Zik, who was very good at making and singing the special
aja songs. Aku-nna liked him.
This dance was the greatest moment in the girls’ lives, and
they knew it. ‘When we are grandmothers,’ said Ogugua,
‘we shall take our pipes ou^of our toothless old mouths and
we shall say to our grandchildren, “ We did the best aja dance
in the world!” ’
That evening, Aku-nna and the other girls made their way
to the dancing hut, carrying an oil lamp. This was one of
Chike’s presents to Aku-nna, and it was much better than a
burning stick. As they crossed the wide sandy square in the
middle of the village, they saw another light coming towards
them. It was Chike, and they all greeted him cheerfully.
‘I have some good news for you,’ he said. ‘But if I tell you
now, you won’t be able to concentrate on your dancing!’
They all begged him to tell them. ‘Very well,’ laughed
Chike. ‘Aku-nna has passed her examination. She can now
be a teacher if she wants to.’
They clapped and shouted, then they questioned Chike
about the boys.
He told them that Okoboshi had failed. ‘I’m not
surprised,’ Chike added. ‘He didn’t do any work.’
‘Okoboshi isn’t a bad boy really,’ said one of the girls.
‘He’s his mother’s only son, and she lets him have
everything he wants. It isn’t his fault. Come on, or we’ll be
late for the dancing.’
They were late anyway, and Zik the dancing teacher was

54
 Kidnapped!

‘This is the end of all my dreams,’ thought Aku-nna. They are

kidnapping me.’

55
 The Bride Price

not pleased with them. He made them work harder than

ever before.
‘Come on, girls!’ he shouted. ‘Aku-nna, have you got a
wooden leg? Bend your knees, child!’ The girls practised
hard for a long time.
Then suddenly the oil lamps in the dancing hut all went
out. There was the sound of heavy feet. Strange voices,
men’s voices, were heard. At first the girls were too shocked
to make a sound. Then they all began to scream at the tops
of their voices. Some of them reached the door and tried to
get out. But strong hands were holding the door closed.
Then there were more footsteps, and strong hands caught
Aku-nna around the waist.
‘Here she is!’ cried a voice. ‘Let’s go !’
Aku-nna tried to scream. But a rough hand covered her
mouth and she was unable to make a sound.
‘What’s happening?’ she thought. She could hear the
dancing teacher’s voice, shouting, demanding to know what
was going on. Then she was carried on several strong
shoulders. The door opened, and out they went.
Suddenly Aku-nna realized what was happening. ‘This is
the end of all my dreams,’ she thought. ‘They are kidnapping
me.’ She could not get away. There were at least twelve men,
running, carrying her along. She lost consciousness, and she
was still unconscious when she arrived at her new home.
 9
A Forced Wedding

O
n his way home after meeting the girls, Chike thought
about Aku-nna. ‘How surprised and pleased she was
when I told her about her examination results!’ he said to
himself. ‘Her success will make things easier for both of us. I
must make sure she gets the teaching job she wants. The
money will be a big help to her mother and brother. And I
shall have time to decide between the oil company and the
university. Father has promised to talk to Okonkwo, but I
must say he’s taking his time about it. Perhaps he’s been
waiting for the results of Aku-nna’s examination. And if
Okonkwo will agree to the marriage, Father will gladly pay
a hundred pounds. Father can easily afford it, and surely
Okonkwo will be very glad to accept - it’ll seem like a
fortune to him.’
It was a very dark, moonless night. It was a night for
murder, a night for fear. He stopped suddenly. He thought
he heard someone calling his name. But when he lifted his
lamp and looked around, he saw nothing except the black
trees on each side of the path. The call came again. It was
Aku-nna’s voice. ‘But that’s impossible,’ thought Chike.
‘She’s safe in the dancing hut with Zik and her friends. My
imagination is playing tricks on me.’ He walked faster, and
his heart beat like a drum.
Then he heard a gun. It was followed by another shot,
and another and another. Ibuza people always fired guns on

57
 The Bride Price

their wedding night. He heard wedding music too, from the

other side of the village.
‘Why haven’t I heard about this wedding?’ thought
Chike. ‘Well, I expect my sisters will tell me all about it
when I get home.’
He went straight to his father’s house to tell him the good
news about Aku-nna’s examination.
‘I’m glad, my son,’ said Ofulue. ‘And I have spoken to
Okonkwo.’
‘What did he say, Father?’
‘He didn’t say no, and he didn’t say yes,’ replied his
father. ‘We shall have to buy him. He wants to be a chief,
and he’ll use our money for that. But that means you will
have to marry early, and I don’t like that.’
‘Oh, Father, Aku-nna is not sixteen yet. We can wait. She
can take teacher training, or I can work with the oil
company in Ughelli. I don’t mind what we do. But I do want
her to leave her uncle’s family. They are not kind to her.’
‘So I hear. I also heard that you knocked down Okoboshi
a day or two ago.’
‘Yes, I did. He was hurting Aku-nna. I had to stop him.’
Just then they heard more shots in the distance. The
sounds of singing and dancing reached their ears.
‘Who can be getting married on a night like this?’ said
Ofulue.
Suddenly Chike knew. He felt weak and sick. He almost
fell to the floor. Holding tightly to the back of his father’s
big leather armchair, he whispered, ‘I think that noise is
coming from the Obidi family hut . . . I think they have
kidnapped Aku-nna for their son Okoboshi.’

58
 A Forced Wedding

Moving forward, Ofulue laid a strong hand on his son’s

shoulder, and Chike cried like a child.

After their frightening experience in the dancing hut, the

other girls ran home and told their parents what had
happened.
‘It was all so sudden —the lamps went out - somebody
held the door shut —then the door was thrown open, and we
all ran home.’ It was a strange, confused story and their
mothers decided to forget about it and let their men
investigate it.
When they felt better, the girls told their mothers about
Aku-nna’s examination. Everyone was very pleased.
‘Let’s go and congratulate her family,’ said Ngbeke,
Okonkwo’s first wife. So a small crowd arrived at M a
Blackie’s hut.
‘Please come in,’ said M a Blackie. ‘My daughter is still
dancing, and my son is out playing. But do come in.’
‘Where did you say Aku-nna w as?’ said Ngbeke sharply.
‘She went to the dancing.’ Then M a Blackie saw Ogugua
and the other girls. ‘I thought she was with you.’
Ngbeke suddenly realized what had happened, and
shouted for her husband.
‘Okonkwooooo! Wake up! They have kidnapped our
daughter. Wake up, everyone, wherever you are! Wake up,
everyone in Ibuza! . . . Girls, go and get the gong!’
The gong was large, shaped like a bell. When anyone hit it
with a stick, it made a great deal of noise. As the first wife of
the family, it was Ngbeke’s duty to bang the gong. She had
to tell the terrible news to the whole village.

59
 The Bride Price

Now everyone was screaming and crying. They shall die

for this!’ shouted Ngbeke’s son Iloba. The noise was
terrible.
Ma Blackie cried and cried. T hey have kidnapped my
daughter,’ she thought. ‘Was it for this that I sent her to
school? Kidnapped!’
The big boys went out to search for the kidnappers, Nna-
nndo stopped crying and followed them. Ngbeke with her
gong led the women around the village.
‘Who has stolen our daughter?’ (Gong). ‘Come out and
tell us!’ (Gong). But they knew it was useless. Aku-nna had
gone. The kidnapper had only to cut a piece of her hair, then
the kidnapped girl belonged to him for ever. He could force
her to sleep with him, and if she was unwilling, his friends
could hold her down. Perhaps that had already happened to
Aku-nna . . .
Ngbeke shouted until her throat was sore. Okonkwo
shouted until he felt thirsty. Then he sat down with a bottle
of native whisky for company. It was much later, in the
middle of the night, when three men from the Obidi family
came to him.
‘Your daughter Aku-nna is sleeping peacefully,’ they said,
‘on the bed that we made specially for her and her husband
Okoboshi.’
There was nothing Okonkwo could do. The whisky had
made him sleepy and confused. Together he and the Obidi
men agreed on a small bride price for Aku-nna.
‘After all,’ the Obidis said, ‘there’s nothing special about
her except her education, and all this modern education
doesn’t do women any good . . . it makes them too proud.’

60
 A Forced Wedding

More whisky flowed. At last the three men prepared to

leave. ‘By morning,’ they said, ‘we shall know if she is a
virgin or not.’
‘She is a virgin,’ said Okonkwo. ‘Nobody has touched
her. You must bring me a big pot full of wine.’
That was the tradition. If a bride was a virgin, her new
family had to bring her father wine. If she was not a virgin,
they brought an empty pot.
Meanwhile Nna-nndo had found out where his sister was.
He went to his only friend, the only person who would
never harm his sister. Then he went home and told M a
Blackie.
‘Chike will save her,’ he told her. But they both wondered
how Chike could do that.

10

The Escape

ku-nna was carried into her new home, and the women
A laid her on a bed. ‘How smooth her body is!’ they
cried. ‘How soft her hands are!’
When she became conscious again, Okoboshi’s mother
greeted her warmly. ‘Don’t worry. We’ll send a message to
your mother. You’re in good hands. My husband decided to
kidnap you for our boy because of that slave, Chike. No girl
from a good family like yours could possibly marry a slave.’
‘Oh no,’ repeated the other women. ‘Never!’
They showed Aku-nna a pile of new clothes. ‘Look,’ they

61
 The Bride Price

said. ‘All these are for you.’ They took off her short dancing
skirt and tied a new skirt round her waist.
Then they took her into a room with a new, colourfully
painted bed. ‘For you and Okoboshi,’ they explained.
They saw the fear and dislike on her face, and laughed.
‘Don’t worry,’ said Okoboshi’s mother. ‘He’ll be gentle with
you. You may even like it —lots of girls do!’
The others laughed. They were very pleased with their
new bride. But the bride herself was silent and trembling
with fear.
‘What’s the matter?’ demanded Okoboshi’s eldest sister.
‘Doesn’t she like us?’
‘Be quiet!’ said her mother. ‘No girl likes to be kidnapped.
Go and join in the celebrations.’
Soon most of them left. But many visitors came to see the
new bride. The men outside went on drinking whisky and
firing guns for a long time. Aku-nna was stiff and tired, but
she would not lie down.
‘I’ll die before I lie on that bed,’ she thought.
Okoboshi’s sister brought her some water. ‘Would you
like to wash?’ she asked her.
‘No, thank you,’ said Aku-nna, ‘but I need the toilet.’
‘I will show you. Now remember, don’t make it hard for
Okoboshi. If you do, he’ll call for help, then the men will
come in and hold you down. That’s the custom.’
‘If that happens to me,’ thought Aku-nna, ‘I’ll kill myself.’
Then, on the way to the toilet, she heard a whistle. It was
Chike’s special song. So he knew, and was near! But she
could not get away, because Okoboshi’s sister was watching
her.

62
 The Escape

She was led back to the hut like a prisoner. She lay down
on the bed with her face to the wall, and shut her eyes.
After a troubled sleep she woke with the feeling that
someone was watching her. As she opened her eyes, she saw
Okoboshi. He was smiling a cruel, unfriendly smile and he
smelt of whisky. Suddenly Aku-nna realized how much he
hated her.
He tried to touch her, but she fought like a wild animal.
‘I’m on my own,’ she thought. ‘N o one can help me. I must
look after myself.’
Okoboshi laughed and hit her in the mouth. Then he was
on top of her. She kicked and scratched, but he was too
strong for her. Then suddenly an idea came to her. She
laughed like a mad woman, and shouted at him:
‘Look at you, Okoboshi! Am I the only bride you can get
—the girlfriend of a slave?’
Okoboshi let her go. Aku-nna continued: ‘You think I am
a virgin? I tell you, a better man has been here before you! I
have slept with him many, many times. That afternoon in
school, when you and your friends made me cry —that was
our first time. But it didn’t do my schoolwork any harm, did
it? You failed your examination, but I passed!’
Okoboshi stood up. His mouth hung open. He looked at
her as a man looks at a poisonous insect.
She went on and on. ‘Even if you do sleep with me
tonight, what then? If I have a child, how can you be sure
that the child is yours? And believe me, I shall tell everyone
in the village!’
‘But you were unclean until two days ago. Your mother
said so.’

63
 The Bride Price

‘Oh yes, that’s true. But today I heard my examination

results. We celebrated my success together!’
She said to herself, ‘Have I gone too far? What if his
people have been watching me all day? Then they’ll know
that I’m lying.’
Okoboshi hit her across the face with all his strength.
‘You dirty animal!’ he shouted. ‘Do you think I want to
touch you now? Slave-girl!’ He hit her again. ‘I never really
wanted you anyway! My father helped me to kidnap you
because he hated Ofulue, your slave lover’s father. But just
wait! Soon I shall marry the girl of my choice, and you will
fetch and carry for her! Now get out of my bed!’
He hit her once more. She fell onto the floor and lost
consciousness.
When she woke, it was almost morning. Okoboshi was
asleep in the bridal bed. She ached all over. Just then
Okoboshi woke and gave a cruel laugh.
‘You’ll have a busy day today, my educated bride. Go and
find a gourd to take to the stream. The older women will ask
you what happened. You’ll have to tell them your story
yourself. My father and I will go to your parents with an
empty wine pot. Then the whole village will know about
you and your slave lover!’
Aku-nna ran out of the hut, almost into the arms of
Okoboshi’s mother and sister. Okoboshi then came out and,
with hate in his voice, he told them what Aku-nna had said
the night before.
‘So now you are a slave too! Well, the water gourds are
there!’ Okoboshi’s mother said coldly.
As Aku-nna bent to pick up a gourd, Okoboshi’s sister

64
 The Escape

‘You can fetch and carry water for us - slave-girlV

65
 The Bride Price

spoke: ‘Mother, have you got an old skirt for this slave-girl?
I need this one!’ She tore the new skirt off Aku-nna’s body.
Her mother produced a dirty, torn skirt and stood there
while Aku-nna tied it around her waist.
Then Aku-nna went to fetch the water, while everyone
laughed and pointed. Her whole face was stiff and sore and
she moved like an old woman. ‘This is the end,5she thought.
‘Now Chike will turn me away too. Okoboshi did not cut a
piece of my hair last night. Why should he? I am worthless. I
can run away if I want to, but where can I go? My uncle will
kill me if I go home. But I’ll die if I stay here. And when I die,
they will say, “ There, I told you so. She broke our laws. And
now she is dead.” ’

All that morning Aku-nna was a prisoner in the hut of

Okoboshi’s mother. They gave her some cooked yam, but
she could not eat it because her mouth was too sore and
swollen.
At noon she heard a voice outside the hut. It was Nna-
nndo. Okoboshi’s mother let him see his sister alone. He
brought her words of comfort — and a letter from Chike,
which she read eagerly.
‘Dearest,’ it said, ‘I will whistle after dark, when you go to
the toilet. I love you. Chike.’
She gave the letter back to Nna-nndo, who hid it inside
his shirt —just before Okoboshi marched into the room.
‘So you have come to visit this slave-girl,’ he said. He
raised his hand and moved towards Aku-nna.
‘If you touch my sister I’ll kill you!’ shouted Nna-nndo.
He picked up a heavy pot. When Okoboshi’s mother heard

66
 The Escape

the shouting, she rushed in, took the pot from Nna-nndo
and ordered him and her son to leave. Tears of anger poured
down Nna-nndo’s face as he left the hut.
Okoboshi’s mother turned to Aku-nna. ‘Go to Okoboshi
tonight,’ she said. ‘Soon, perhaps, he will forgive you and
take you into his bed. Many good marriages start unhappily.’
She was unexpectedly kind, and for a moment Aku-nna
wanted to tell her the truth. But she remembered Chike’s
letter.
T will go to him,’ she said. ‘Let me wash and go to the
toilet first.’
As Aku-nna walked to the toilet, she suddenly heard
Chike’s whistle. There was a movement in the long grass,
and before she knew what was happening, she was in
Chike’s arms. Then she heard his voice, low and urgent.
‘Come on, my love —run!’
His warm body seemed to breathe new life into her. She
ran. When she could no longer run, she walked. It was only
seven miles from Ibuza to Asaba, but it took them nearly
four hours. At last they reached a house.
‘Our driver lives here,’ said Chike. ‘He’ll take us to
Ughelli in the morning.’
But Aku-nna was already asleep in Chike’s arms.
 11

Too Good to be True?

B en Adegor was an old school friend of Chike’s. They

had written to each other regularly and Ben knew about
Chike’s feelings for Aku-nna. It was Ben who had suggested
a job for Chike with the oil company at Ughelli, where Ben
was the head teacher at the local school. Ben knew that the
oil company needed bright young men, and he also
promised to get Aku-nna a teaching job in his school.
‘You and your bride can have my old hut until you find
somewhere better,’ he had written to Chike. ‘I’ve bought a
new house with a tin roof.’
Ben Adegor was a small, strong, dark man who loved to
talk and argue. His wife Rose, who was small and dark too,
was a teacher at the same school, and she was expecting
their first child.
They welcomed Chike and Aku-nna kindly and showed
them the hut with its three large rooms and its wide, airy
veranda. They lent them some furniture, then left the young
couple alone. Chike and Aku-nna stood and looked at each
other.
‘Will you marry me?’ Chike whispered.
‘Where you go, I go,’ said Aku-nna.
Like small, excited children, they began to count their
money. Chike’s father had encouraged him to run away
with Aku-nna and had given them a wedding present of a
hundred pounds.

68
 Too Good to be True?

‘I’ve never seen so much money before,’ whispered Aku-

nna, staring at Chike’s hundred pounds.
‘He was going to use it to pay for me to go to university,’
said Chike.
‘And you changed your plans?’
‘Universities don’t run away. I’ll go when I’m ready. Just
now I’m too busy. Guess what Father said when he gave me
this money?’
‘Did he tell you to pay my bride price with it?’ asked Aku-
nna with trembling lips.
He took her in his arms. ‘Don’t worry. My father will pay
the bride price in good time. He will give Okonkwo double
whatever he asks. But that isn’t all. Nna-nndo must come
and live with us, and get a proper education. Also we must
send a little money to your mother, so that she can be
independent.’
‘Oh - will you do all that for me? I’ll serve you until I die.
I’ll be a good wife to you. I’ll always love you and love you,
in this world and the next world, until the end of time.’
He kissed her hair. ‘People will say you’re marrying me
because of my money!’
‘Oh no, not because of that. Because of so many, many
things —how can I name them all? Because of the way you
look at me, because of your kindness and understanding . . . ’
Chike held her tight.
They had had very little sleep after their night’s adventures,
but now they forgot their tiredness. Chike wanted to go to
town to do some shopping, and Aku-nna wanted to go with
him.
‘My father gave me this money to buy something special.

69
 The Bride Price

I’ll buy it today, and tonight we’ll christen it,’ he told her.
The ‘something special’ was a lovely new English bed
with a wonderfully soft mattress. Aku-nna clapped her
hands with excitement when she saw it.
But their shopping did not end with the bed. Chike
bought sheets, curtains, cooking pots and plates and even a
small oil stove. Aku-nna had never seen anything like them
before. He also bought her two beautiful new skirts.
‘Thank you, thank you,’ she said again and again.
They loaded everything onto a lorry. On the way home,
Chike asked the driver to stop at the offices of the oil
company.
‘I’ll only be away ten minutes,’ he said. ‘I want to tell
them that I’m in Ughelli and available for an interview.’
Chike was away half an hour and came back looking
pleased and proud. ‘Sorry to keep you waiting,’ he said to
the driver. To Aku-nna he said, ‘I start work in five days’
time,’
Aku-nna could not believe it. ‘Everything has been too
easy for us,’ she thought. ‘It’s too good to be true. Dear
God, don’t let anything happen to destroy our joy.’
Chike gave the driver a bottle of whisky and the driver
wished them a long and happy marriage. When they
unloaded the new bed in front of their new home, the driver
poured a little whisky over the mattress.
‘There, I have christened your bed,’ he said. ‘But you’ll do
it properly tonight, when you’re alone!’
Then Chike’s friend, Ben Adegor, came along and joined
in the fun. ‘So you’re christening the bed?’ he sajd. ‘What
are you going to call it?’

70
 Too Good to be True?

Aku-nna burst out laughing. ‘Whoever heard of christening

a bed?’ she said.
But Ben was suddenly serious. He asked God to look
kindly on his friends’ marriage. ‘Give them a happy life
together, with many children. Now, I christen this bed Jo y !’

But to Chike’s surprise love-making did not come easily to

them. At first Aku-nna tried to avoid it. First she wanted a
bath, then she wanted to listen to their new radio . . . always
she found some excuse. As for Chike, he was worried. When
he had rescued her from Okoboshi, everything had seemed so
easy. ‘No matter what they have done to her, I will still marry
her,’ he thought. ‘Even if she is expecting Okoboshi’s child.’
He had discussed it with his father and the old man had
given him some good advice. ‘Never blame a woman for
something that happened in the past,’ he had said. ‘It’s the
futhfe that matters.’
But now Chike was anxious. Aku-nna seemed so frightened
and worried. He wondered what they had done to her that
night, and if she was still a virgin, but he did not want to ask
her.
At last, however, Aku-nna told him her story. She told
him that she was still a virgin, and that she had told lies to
Okoboshi to get away from him.
‘I have been saving myself for you,’ she said shyly. ‘Please
help me to give you joy.’
Chike was surprised and delighted. ‘My darling,’ he said,
‘your people must know of this. They must be told that you
are innocent. My father must be told too. How happy they
will all be!’

71
7 christen this bed JoyV
 The Unpaid Price

‘Is that necessary?5 said Aku-nna. ‘You know the truth,

and that's all that matters. Just give them their bride price in
peace. You know what they say: if the bride price is not
paid, the bride will die in childbirth . . .' Aku-nna stopped
for a moment. ‘I love you, Chike,5 she said softly. ‘Please
teach me . . .5
And the beautiful new bed became a place of joy for them
both.

12

The Unpaid Price

I n Ibuza there was no joy for Akunna's family. As soon as

Okoboshi realized that Aku-nna had escaped with his
enemy, he lied to his parents.
‘I slept with her,5he said, ‘and she was no virgin. But I cut
off a piece of her hair, so now she belongs to me!5 He
produced a piece of hair to prove his story.
His action caused some bitter arguments, and many
people became really angry with Chike's family. ‘Who are
they,5 people said, ‘to destroy the life of an innocent young
girl? She will never come home to Ibuza now.5
‘But,5 said an old man, ‘as long as Okonkwo does not
accept any bride price from Ofulue, the girl still belongs to
Okoboshi. N o one can possibly expect a slave to behave like
a free man, and no one can blame the girl if a slave runs off
with her.5
The argument went on and on. Everyone spoke against

73
 The Bride Price

Chike’s family. Ofulue did not fear for his own life, but he
sent all the girls of the family away for a while. However,
the people took their revenge in another way.
Years before, when Ofulue left his job as a head teacher,
he had bought some land in Ibuza. He had planted trees
there and looked after them well. Now one morning he
woke up and found that all his trees had been cut down. The
shock hurt the old man badly, and he was sure that
Okoboshi’s family, the Obidis, were responsible. Ofulue’s
sons were very angry, so together they collected enough
money to take the Obidi family to law.
Everyone in Ibuza spoke against the Ofulue family, but
the white man’s law did not understand about slaves and
free men. So the Obidi family were found guilty and the free
men had to plant new trees for the slaves, and pay a large
sum of money too. The Obidi family hated the Ofulue
family more than ever after that, and naturally they saw
Okonkwo’s family as the cause of their misfortune, since
Aku-nna was Okonkwo’s responsibility.
All this had a very bad effect on Okonkwo, who felt that
Aku-nna had behaved very badly and brought shame on the
whole village. He became very ill, but the medicine men
were unsympathetic.
‘What do you expect?’ they demanded. ‘All this is your
own fault.’
Okonkwo forgot about becoming a chief. He was fighting
for his life and the life of his family. He blamed M a Blackie
for his troubles, and he took his revenge by divorcing her.
After that, of course, everyone blamed Aku-nna.
*

74
 The Unpaid Price

In Ibuza, if you wanted to destroy someone, you made a

little doll exactly like that person. Then you pushed a sharp
needle into the doll’s heart. The magic usually worked; the
enemy died slowly and painfully.
Ma Blackie was sad, but not surprised, when one day she
saw a little doll in Okonkwo’s hut. The doll had Aku-nna’s
face, and there was a needle through its heart. She cried
quietly for her daughter.
Chike and Aku-nna had sent a secret message to M a
Blackie, asking her to send her son Nna-nndo to Ughelli to
live with them. Soon, too, the Ofulue family started sending
Ma Blackie two whole pounds every month, which made
her completely independent. ‘I will pay a medicine man to
destroy Okonkwo’s magic,’ she thought. ‘Then my daughter
will be safe.’

In Ughelli Aku-nna and Chike were wonderfully happy.

After their wedding in the white man’s church they moved
to a small house of their own, quite near Ben and Rose
Adegor. Aku-nna was teaching in the local school and Nna-
nndo was doing well and growing like a young tree. The
lorry driver who had christened their bed was now a useful
friend and helper. Chike was training to become a manager
of the oil company, and they had plenty of money.
Aku-nna was not always happy, however. Sometimes
there was a j^iadow of sadness on her face, and Chike knew
she was thinking about her bride price.
Chike’s family wanted to pay it, but Okonkwo refused to
accept the money. ‘No girl in my family shall be the bride of
a slave,’ he said angrily.

75
 The Bride Price

‘Don’t worry,’ Ofulue wrote to his son, ‘I’ll offer them

more next time, and sooner or later they will accept.’
Chike told Aku-nna this sad news as gently as he could.
She cried a little, because she knew that until the bride price
was paid, her family would not recognize the marriage, and
she was worried.
Ofulue soon learned about Okonkwo’s little doll. He
wrote and told Chike, but told him not to mention it to
Aku-nna. ‘It’s only an old native tradition. If Aku-nna
knows nothing about the doll, it cannot harm her.’

One day Chike came home from work and found Nna-nndo
waiting for him. ‘Where is Aku-nna?’demanded Chike.
Usually she came running to greet him.
‘She came back early from school with aheadache,’ said
Nna-nndo. ‘She’s asleep now.’
Aku-nna looked very small and childlike on the big bed.
Nna-nndo was growing every day, but his sister looked smaller
and thinner than ever. She got tired very easily too. Chike
went and sat down on the bed beside her. He touched her
burning hot forehead. She opened her eyes and said, ‘I’m sorry
I wasn’t there to welcome you home. I don’t feel very well.’
‘Is it that other pain?’ he asked gently.
‘N o - I haven’t had that since Christmas . . .’
‘But that was three months ago, my love . . . Are you
going to have a baby?’
‘Perhaps!’ she laughed. ‘M rs Adegor said the same thing
this afternoon when she brought me home from school. I
hope she’s right, because I want to have your baby . . .
Would you like that too.?’

76
 The Unpaid Price

‘Of course.’ With her feverish head on his shoulder he

talked to her about the baby. ‘What shall we call our son?’
he asked her.
‘Will you be very disappointed if it’s a girl?’ asked Aku-
nna.
‘Not at all. But then people will talk. You know what
people say about girl babies. They say girls are love babies.
Their parents make love day and night. I want our love to be
private!’
Aku-nna laughed. ‘I’ll ask God for a girl, then, and
another one, and another one after that. Then everybody
will know just how much we love each other . . . I’ll have a
son when you’re forty.’
‘You are a bad girl!’ He kissed her.
Then he questioned her. Her tiredness worried him. Was
it because of the baby, or because of her busy life? He
decided that she ought to see a doctor.
The doctor at the oil company examined Aku-nna. ‘Yes,
she’s going to have a baby,’ he said. ‘She must stop work
and eat plenty of good food. M r Ofulue, your wife is very
young and small. Is she sixteen yet?’
‘Yes,’ said Chike. He felt suddenly very guilty. ‘Will she
be all right?’
‘Oh, yes, but you must both be very careful. She isn’t
strong.’
Chike drove his wife home from the doctor’s office in his
new car. He drove badly and seemed annoyed with
everything and everybody. Aku-nna wondered what was the
matter, but she was too tired to talk. She fell asleep in the
back of the car.

77
 The Bride Price

Aku-nna’s wish to continue working was the cause of

their first argument. ‘I want to work, because you are
sending money to my family,’ she said.
Chike pushed her away. ‘You mean you want to continue
work until your bride price is paid,’ he said unkindly. ‘Why
don’t you say that? How many hours a day do you spend
thinking about your family? You think about them so much,
you forget about me. Don’t you care about me? What if you
become ill, too ill to look after our child? Listen, I’ll make
sure that your bride price is paid. And you’re not going to
die and leave me - do you understand?’
At the mention of dying Aku-nna was afraid. ‘Am I going
to die?’ she thought. ‘Did the doctor say that?’ Aloud she
said, ‘Please tell me the truth. Did the doctor say I was going
to die? Is that why you were so unhappy on the way home?’
He took her in his arms. ‘N o, no, he didn’t say anything
like that. I was just expressing my own fears. But he did say
we had to be careful. You must rest. Dearest, I don’t want
anything to happen to you. You mean so much to me.’

13

Joy

S oon Aku-nna was glad to stay at home. The baby was

giving her a very bad time. In the early months she was
sick every morning and unable to eat. Even in the sixth
month, she still could not enjoy her food. She hated to cause
her young husband so much worry. Chike remained gentle

78
 Joy

and loving with her, but his eyes were large and anxious. He
paid a local girl to clean the house and do the cooking.
‘Take it easy,’ he said to Aku-nna. ‘Read as much as you
like, and eat plenty of good food.’
Chike’s eldest brother, who was a doctor, visited them
and examined Aku-nna. ‘She’s not strong,’ he told Chike.
‘What’s the matter with her?’ demanded Chike. ‘M ost
girls in Ibuza have babies very easily. Why is it so hard for
my wife? She’s getting weaker every day.’
‘Don’t worry. We can always take her into the hospital
for an operation, and save both her and the child. And do
remember that many native girls die in childbirth too. Your
wife didn’t get enough of the right food when she was
young. She’s sixteen, but she looks like a fourteen-year-old.
You were wrong to give her a child so early, brother.’
Chike gave a short, bitter laugh. ‘We didn’t plan this baby
- it just happened.’
‘Don’t worry, everything will be all right. You’re a lucky
man. She’s a sweet, lovely girl. Take good care of her now.’

At home in Ibuza, Ofulue again asked Okonkwo to accept

the bride price, and again Okonkwo refused to give his
daughter to a slave. Then one day somebody - nobody
knew who - took away the little doll from Okonkwo’s hut.
Okonkwo was terribly angry. He paid a medicine man a lot
of money to make a new doll. ‘This will bring Aku-nna
home,’ he said. ‘It will call her back in the wind.’

Chike’s father came to Ughelli to visit them, and was very

glad to see them so happy. When Chike was at work, Ofulue

79
 The Bride Price

and Aku-nna talked and laughed together like old friends.

But he always reminded her to rest, so that she was fresh
and happy when she welcomed Chike home from the office.
When it was time for Ofulue to leave, Aku-nna cried on
his shoulder. ‘I hope I shall see you again, Father. I know
that my uncle Okonkwo does not want to accept my bride
price. He hates me. He’s calling me back. I hear his voice in
the wind when I’m alone —but I’ll never answer him . . . Oh,
Father, I don’t want to die!’
Chike did not hear Aku-nna’s words, but he knew she
was crying. He came over and took her gently away from his
father. ‘After our baby is born,’ he told her, ‘we shall all go
home together and visit Father. We’ll all look forward to
that.’
Aku-nna tried to smile as she waved goodbye to her
father-in-law. But now she was frightened to be alone.
Again and again she heard her uncle’s voice calling her,
telling her to return to her family. She could no longer sleep.
The doctor gave her sleeping tablets, but they did not
help.
Every night she and Chike knelt down together and asked
God to help them through this difficult time, but still Aku-
nna could not rest. Sometimes she woke in the night, crying.
‘Hold me tight!’ she begged Chike. ‘Hold me! My uncle is
trying to take me away. Please don’t let him get me.’
‘Don’t be silly,’ said Chike gently. ‘You don’t really
believe all that nonsense, do you? You’re anxious and
excited, that’s all. Cheer up; soon the baby will be here.’
Gently he rubbed her tight, swollen stomach, which looked
so huge beside her thin little arms and legs.

80
 Joy

‘My uncle Okonkwo won't accept my bride price. He hates me. He's
calling me back. I hear his voice in the wind

81
 The Bride Price

They spent many nights like this. Then one night Aku-nna
suddenly screamed and lost consciousness. Chike examined
her; the baby was coming. At once he telephoned the
doctor, who sent an ambulance at once.
Chike watched anxiously while the ambulance men
covered his wife with their horrible red blankets and lifted
her into the ambulance. Then he sat beside her and held her
hand. When the pains stabbed through her body, he felt
them too.
When they reached the hospital, the doctor told him the
truth. ‘She must have an operation,’ he said. ‘The baby is
small, but it will be all right.’
As Chike sat on the hard chair in the hospital waiting-
room, he remembered the shy little girl from Lagos. He
remembered all their happy times . . . the day they bought
their new bed, the day he received his first cheque from the
oil company. He remembered their escape together and
tears poured down his face.
Someone touched his shoulder. It was Nna-nndo, who
had ridden the seven miles to the hospital on his bicycle, to
sit beside his brother-in-law. To Nna-nndo, Chike was
perfect. He loved him and was grateful to him for his happy
life in Ughelli. He wanted to help Chike, but did not know
how. He held Chike’s hand and cried.
A doctor came in. ‘M r Ofulue?’ he said. ‘Please come with
me.’
Chike followed like a sleepwalker. The doctor said, ‘She
has had the operation. She isn’t conscious yet, and I’m
afraid that she may never wake up at all. I’m sorry —we did
everything we could, but she was very small and weak. I

82
 Joy

don’t know how she stayed alive so long . . . I expect you

want to sit with her. She’s in here.’ He pointed to a door. ‘By
the way,’ he whispered, ‘you have a baby girl. She’s small,
but she’s doing fine.’
Chike stared wordlessly at the doctor, then he went into
the unnaturally clean white room. He was alone with
Aku-nna.
She was so beautiful and peaceful lying there. He took her
small, dry hand and held it. Aku-nna was dying. Chike
called Nna-nndo, and the two of them sat there together.
It was almost morning when Aku-nna’s hand moved a
little. There was a smile on her lips, and she spoke softly but
clearly.
‘I know you are here, my husband.’ Slowly she opened her
eyes. They were very bright, too bright for this world.
Nna-nndo heard her voice and came nearer.
‘Don’t worry, brother,’ she said. ‘This isn’t the end of the
road for you, it’s the beginning. My husband will look after
you. He’s a good man, and I thank God for him.’
Nna-nndo began to cry. Then Aku-nna spoke to Chike.
‘Dear husband, be strong. Be happy for me.’ Her voice was
very weak now. ‘Did we have a boy or a girl?’
‘A little girl,’ he whispered in her ear.
Aku-nna’s whole face shone with joy. ‘I told you so,’ she
whispered. ‘I told you I wouldn’t keep our love a secret.
Now everybody will see our little girl, and they will know
that our love will never die . . . Let’s call her “Jo y ” too, the
same name that we gave our marriage bed. Please. Promise
me you’ll call her Joy . . . Then promise me that you’ll be
happy, because you have made me so happy, so . . .

83
 The Bride Price

Promise me that you'll be happy, Chike, because you have

made me so happy . . /

84
 Joy

Her eyes closed. Chike took her whole body in his arms
and kissed her gently. ‘Good night, my love. Our child’s
name shall be Joy .’
She smiled again, a smile of unbelievable sweetness and
beauty. Very softly and peacefully, she died. But he still held
her gently, lovingly against his heart.
The morning light grew stronger. The doctor came in. ‘It
is time to go now,’ he said. ‘Your wife is at peace.’
‘Our child shall be called Joy ,’ repeated Chike.

Afterwards every girl in Ibuza was told the sad story of

Aku-nna and Chike. ‘If you want to live a long time,’ they
were told, ‘you must accept the husband that your people
choose for you, and your bride price must be paid. If it is not
paid, you will never survive the birth of your first child.’
Of course, that is all nonsense. Of course a safe birth does
not depend on a bride price. But even today, no girl wants to
risk it.
 G LO SSA R Y

aja A Nigerian word for a special kind of dance

birth the act or time of being born
cassava an African vegetable from which bread can be made
childbirth the act of giving birth to a child
christen to give a name to someone or something
Christian someone who believes in Jesus Christ
come to no good to get into trouble or have a bad life
comfort (v) to give help, kindness, etc. to someone who is unhappy
degree a certificate given by a university
doll a toy in the shape of a person
funeral the ceremony when a dead person is buried
gong a round piece of metal which makes a loud ringing noise
when it is beaten
gourd a large, hollow fruit with a hard skin, sometimes used for
carrying liquids
gradually happening slowly and evenly (not suddenly)
graveyard a place where dead people are buried
houseboy a boy or young man in Nigeria who works as a servant
for his relations
hut a house made of wood and grass or leaves
inherit to receive money or other things which belonged to
someone who has died
ink a black or coloured liquid used for writing
join in to take part in something as a member of a group
joy great happiness
kidnap (v) to take someone away and keep them prisoner
longingly showing a very strong wish
M a mother (a name usually used by children)

86
 Glossary

marry somebody off to arrange a marriage for somebody (usually

a daughter)
mattress a large, flat bag filled with something soft, used on a bed
for sleeping on
medicine man an African doctor who uses magic to harm people
or to make them well
mourn to cry and be sad for someone who has died
native belonging to the place or country where a person was born
(in this story African, not European)
nut a fruit with a very hard skin
Obi a Nigerian word for a chief (a head man)
ogbanje a Nigerian word meaning ‘living dead’ (a person who is
alive but not very healthy)
operation the cutting of the body by a doctor in order to remove
or mend something in a sick person
powerful very strong or important
respect (n) behaving politely towards someone older or more
important
respect (v) to show respect for somebody
scholarship money given to a clever person to pay for his or her
education
shame (n) blame and bad opinions caused by somebody’s bad
behaviour
shilling a silver coin in Nigerian money
shot (raj the firing of a gun
slave a servant who is owned by another person and who can be
bought and sold
sociology the study of societies and human behaviour
spirit the part of a person that is not the body; some people
believe the spirit lives after the body dies

87
 Glossary

stove something which produces heat for cooking on (in this

story a wood fire in a fireplace)
strength being strong
suspicious having a feeling that something is wrong
swell (past participle swollen) to become filled with liquid and/or
air and become larger
tablet a solid medicine, usually in small round pieces
tradition a custom or habit which has been followed for many
years
veranda a long, open platform with a roof along the outside of a
house
virgin a girl who has not yet been to bed with (made love with) a
man
waste (v) to spend or use something (e.g. money or time) in a
useless way
yam a vegetable, a little like a potato
The Bride Price

ACTIVITIES
 ACTIVITIES

Before Reading

1 Read the story introduction on the first page of the book, and the
back cover. What do you know now about Aku-nna? Circle the
correct words in this passage.

When Aku-nna’s mother I father dies, she has to leave Lagos /

Ibuza and goes to live in the capital / her hometown. She is an
innocent / experienced girl, who finds her new life easy / difficult,
especially as her sister / brother is too young / busy to give her any
money / advice. At first she has several / no friends, and so she
feels very lonely / lucky, but soon she meets a distant relation /
young man, who is kind / unpleasant to her.

2 Read the story introduction and back cover again. Can you guess
what might happen to Aku-nna in this story? Cross out the
suggestions that you think are unlikely.

Aku-nna will. . .
1 continue her studies / have to leave school and do farm work /
become a teacher.
2 marry the man she loves / marry a man she dislikes / never marry.
3 have many children / have only one child / not have any children.
4 be unhappy all her life / be happy all her life / be happy for a
short time.
5 live a long time / die young / kill herself.

91
 ACTIVITIES

While Reading

Read Chapters 1 to 3. Are these sentences true (T) or false (F)?

Rewrite the false sentences with the correct information.

1 Ma Blackie and Ezekiel did not mind that they only had two
children.
2 Aku-nna’s parents were proud of their strong, healthy daughter.
3 When Ezekiel went to the hospital for a check-up, he knew he
might not see his children again.
4 Ma Blackie stayed in Ibuza during her husband’s illness because
she did not care about him.
5 Aku-nna shared the kitchen with fifteen other families.
6 Aku-nna guessed that her father had died before she was told.
7 Ezekiel’s funeral combined native and Christian ceremonies.
8 The mourning for Ezekiel lasted for several days.
9 Aku-nna’s aunts did not expect her to get a good bride price
because she was a noisy, stupid girl.

Before you read Chapter 4 {The Journey to Ibuza), can you guess the
answers to these questions?

1 Where will Aku-nna and her brother live now?

2 What will happen to Aku-nna and Nna-nndo if their mother
remarries?
3 Will Aku-nna be married off, so that her bride price can pay for
Nna-nndo’s education?
4 Who will be the head of the family now - Ma Blackie,
Nna-nndo, or somebody else?

92
 a c tiv itie s: While Reading

Read Chapters 4 to 7. Who said this and to whom? What or who

were they talking about?

1 ‘I don’t want them to see you both looking dirty.’

2 ‘No nice girl from a good family is allowed to talk to him.’
3 ‘School is no use to a free man. School is a place to send your
slaves.’
4 ‘Their bride prices will come to me, and these days, people pay
more for educated girls.’
5 ‘They all die young, usually at the birth of their first child.’
6 ‘If she is, I will kill her.’
7 ‘I would not like a son of mine to bring shame on his daughter.’
8 ‘Surely she must be married one day?’
9 ‘You will always be mine.’
10 ‘There will be trouble.’

Before you read Chapter 8 (Kidnapped!), what do you think will

happen next? Circle Y (Yes) or N (No) for each of these possibilities.

1 Ogugua will be kidnapped by Chike, to make her father agree

to Chike’s marrying Aku-nna. Y/N
2 Aku-nna will be kidnapped by the Obidi family, as a wife for
Okoboshi. Y/N
3 Chike will kidnap Aku-nna, and they will run away together to
get married. Y/N
4 Whoever is kidnapped will manage to escape and return home
safely. Y/N
5 The people of Ibuza will force the kidnappers to let their
prisoner go, and will punish the kidnappers. Y/N

93
 a c tiv itie s: While Reading

Read Chapters 8 to 10. Choose the best question-word for these

questions, and then answer them.

What I Who I Why

1 . . . did Okonkwo forbid Aku-nna to see Chike?
2 . . . knocked Okoboshi down in Ma Blackie’s hut?
3 . . . was the aja dance so important to the girls of Ibuza?
4 . . . failed the school examination?
5 . . . did Ngbeke and the others go to M a Blackie’s hut?
6 . . . kidnapped Aku-nna?
7 . . . preparations had the Obidi family made for their son’s
wedding?
8 . . . did Aku-nna tell Okoboshi in order to prevent him making
love to her?
9 . . . rescued Aku-nna from the Obidi family?

Before you read to the end of the story, what do you think is going
to happen? Circle Y (Yes) or N (No) for each of these possibilities.

1 Aku-nna marries Chike and they have a long and happy life
together, surrounded by their children. Y/N
2 Aku-nna marries Chike, but dies young in childbirth. Y/N
3 Aku-nna is forced to return to Okoboshi, and lives unhappily
with him for the rest of her life. Y/N
4 Chike still loves Aku-nna, but cannot marry her because she
now belongs to Okoboshi. Y/N
5 Chike soon leaves Aku-nna for another girl, so Aku-nna
decides to become a teacher and lead an independent life. Y/N

How would you like the story to end?

94
 ACTIVITIES

After Reading

1 Perhaps this is what some of the characters in the story were

thinking. Who are they, and what is happening in the story at this
moment?

1 ‘It’s not the bride price I was hoping for. But what could I do?
They’ve got the girl already, so I had to agree to what they
offered. At least her husband won’t be the son of a slave . . . ’

2 ‘She’s so quiet, so shy! And she doesn’t know much about our
customs. I suppose it’s because she’s lived in the city. Still, it’s
fun to have a new cousin. I think I’m going to like her . . . ’

3 ‘H e’s certainly in love - buying good bananas and then just

throwing them in the river! The things young lovers do! Well,
he must marry her. I’ll offer a good bride price, and I just
hope there won’t be too much trouble with her family . . . ’

4 ‘I hate him! I’d like to kill him, I really would! How dare he
hit my sister and call her names! But at least I showed her the
letter and got it back inside my shirt before anyone came in.’

5 ‘What’s this? Oh no! There’s a needle through the heart. I

was afraid he’d do something like this. How can I stop it? Yes
- I’ve got the money now. I can pay someone to destroy i t . . . ’

6 ‘H e’ll be sorry for this! Who does he think he is? Knocking

me down in front of everyone - me, a free man! I’m going to
get my revenge on this slave somehow. I’ll go home and talk
to Father right now . . . ’

95
 a c t i v i t i e s : After Reading

2 When Ofulue first went to Okonkwo to ask for Aku-nna (see page
58), what did the two men say to each other? Complete Ofulue’s side
of the conversation.

O konkw o: Well, Ofulue, what do you want with me?

O fu l u e : ____________
O konkw o: My niece? What about her?
O f u l u e : ____________
O konkw o: I don’t care if he’s in love or not. Marriage is a business
matter, as you well know.
O f u l u e : ____________
O konkw o: It will have to be a very good bride price. I’m hoping to
become an Obi soon.
O fu l u e : ____________
O konkw o: A hundred? Mmm . . .
O fu l u e : ____________
O konkw o: I haven’t agreed to anything yet. I’ll think about it.

3 After his sister’s kidnap, Nna-nndo went to see Chike (see page 61).
Put their conversation in the right order, and write in the speakers’
names. Begin with number 7.

1 ‘The Obidis won’t stop me visiting my own sister!’

2 ‘Who cares about those old traditions? All I care about is
Aku-nna. And I’m going to rescue her and take her away.’
3 ‘It was at the dancing hut. About twelve men broke in,
put out all the oil lamps, and then carried my sister off.’
4 ‘I don’t know yet. Listen, Nna-nndo, do you think you
could get a message to Aku-nna?’
5 ‘But Chike - suppose Okoboshi’s already cut off a piece
of her hair? Then she’ll belong to him for ever.’

96
 a c t i v i t i e s : After Reading

6 ‘Good. I’ll make a plan. Come back in the morning,

and I’ll give you a letter to take to Aku-nna.’
7 ‘Chike, Chike! Have you heard what’s happened?’
8 ‘And now they’ll try and force her to marry that
horrible Okoboshi. But I won’t let it happen!’
9 ‘Are you? Oh, Chike, that would be wonderful! But
how will you do it?’
10 ‘Yes, the Obidis have kidnapped Aku-nna. I guessed
when I heard the guns. How did it happen, Nna-nndo?’

4 Imagine that Aku-nna wrote to Chike after the kidnap. Put her letter
in the right order, and join the parts with the linking words, to make
a paragraph of four sentences.
and anyway / and then / because / but / in order to / that

Dear Chike,
1 There’s no time to write any more,
2 make me Okoboshi’s bride.
3 we must say goodbye,
4 Soon his father will pay Okonkwo a bride price for me,
5 I cannot go against my people’s traditions.
6 I will have to stay here as Okoboshi’s wife.
7 I expect you’ve heard by now
8 Chike, I shall always love you,
9 the paper is too wet with my tears.
10 the Obidis have kidnapped me,
Your loving Aku-nna

Aku-nna did not send a letter like this to Chike. Should she have
done? What do you think?

97
 a c t i v i t i e s : After Reading

5 Ofulue wrote to Chike in Ughelli to tell him about the little doll in
Okonkwo’s hut (see page 76). Write his letter, by combining these
sentences into longer sentences, using linking words and making
any other necessary changes.

Dear son,
I visited Okonkwo again recently.
I offered Okonkwo a much higher bride price for Aku-nna.
Okonkwo still refuses to accept the bride price.
Okonkwo talks wildly about Aku-nna.
Aku-nna, Okonkwo says, has brought shame on the whole village.
Okonkwo blames Aku-nna for all his troubles.
I also heard something from Ma Blackie.
You won’t like this.
Okonkwo has a doll in his hut.
The doll has Aku-nna’s face, and a needle through its heart.
Don’t tell Aku-nna about the doll.
It’s only the old women who believe in this kind of thing.
Aku-nna knows nothing about the doll.
The doll cannot possibly harm Aku-nna.
Take care of Aku-nna and yourself,
Your father

6 Here are ten different titles for the story. Which do you like best? Put
them in order of preference, 1 to 10 (number 1 for the best).

Love and Tradition Forbidden Love

Called Back in the Wind A Slave’s Bride
The Price of Love Joy in the Morning
A Suitable Husband Love Finds a Way
Parents Always Know Best From City to Village

98
 a c t i v i t i e s : After Reading

7 Every girl in Ibuza was told the sad story of Aku-nna and Chike.
Here is the story. Choose one suitable word to fill each gap.

Listen carefully, because you must not the same mistake

Aku-nna made. H er , who as the head of the_____ was
responsible for her, decided she marry one of the Obidi
family, would pay a good bride price. the girl grateful
to her kind,____ uncle for feeding and clothing her?_____ ! Did
she politely agree to his ? No! She thought she knew better
him, and so she wouldn’t even at the boy who wanted
to her. Instead, she spent all her time with the son of a
! You can imagine what her family about that! One
evening she w as by the Obidi family for their , and,
foolish girl! she refused to him as her husband. No, she
away with the slave’s son, and they did get married,
no bride was ever paid for her. And of this, poor Aku-
nna did not____ the birth of her first child.

8 How can Aku-nna’s death be explained? Did it happen because of

native tradition, or for medical reasons? Use these notes to write two
different explanations.

Native tradition
• unpaid bride price / doll with a needle in its heart / calling back
in the wind / an ogbanje (living dead)
Medical reasons
• not eating properly in childhood / too small to have a baby
naturally / not eating properly when pregnant / too weak to
survive a serious operation

Which explanation do you think is the most likely? Why?

99
 ABOUT T HE AUT HO R

Florence Onye Buchi Emecheta was born to Igbo parents in a

small village near Lagos, the capital of Nigeria, in 1944. She
moved to Britain with her student husband in 1962, studied
sociology at the University of London, and worked in a library
and later as a community worker, while bringing up her five
children. Her first novel was published in 1972, and since then
she has written about twenty novels, as well as children’s books
and television plays. She has also been a teacher and visiting
professor of English at several universities in the United States,
Britain, and Nigeria. She lives in North London.
Emecheta is best known for her novels set in Nigeria both
before and after independence, and her writing gives a powerful
impression of what it means to be a woman and mother in
Nigerian society. Her novels also reflect her own experience
of life - In the Ditch (1972) and Second-Class Citizen (1974)
describe the difficulties and hardships of her own early
married life in Britain. The Bride Trice (1976) and The Joys o f
M otherhood (1979) show how the traditions of African society
affect the lives of women. But as Emecheta herself says, ‘The
main themes of my novels are African society and family;. . . I
have not committed myself to the cause of African women only.
I write about Africa as a whole.’
She sees herself as part of a long cultural line. ‘Women are
born storytellers. We keep the history . . . What I do is not clever
or unusual. It is what my aunt and my grandmother did, and
their mothers before them.’

100
 ABOUT BOOKWORMS

O X F O R D B O O K W O R M S LIBRARY
Classics • True Stories • Fantasy & Horror • Human Interest
Crime & Mystery • Thriller & Adventure

The o x f o r d b o o k w o r m s l i b r a r y offers a wide range of original and

adapted stories, both classic and modern, which take learners from
elementary to advanced level through six carefully graded language stages:

Stage 1 (400 headwords) Stage 4 (1400 headwords)

Stage 2 (700 headwords) Stage 5 (1800 headwords)
Stage 3 (1000 headwords) Stage 6 (2500 headwords)

M ore than fifty titles are also available on cassette, and there are many titles
at Stages 1 to 4 which are specially recommended for younger learners. In
addition to the introductions and activities in each Bookworm , resource
m aterial includes p h o to co p ia b le test w o rk sh eets and T e a c h e r’ s
H andbooks, which contain advice on running a class library and using
cassettes, and the answers for the activities in the books.

Several other series are linked to the o x f o r d b o o k w o r m s l i b r a r y . They

range from highly illustrated readers for young learners, to playscripts,
non-fiction readers, and unsimplified texts for advanced learners.

Oxford Bookworms Starters Oxford Bookworms Factfiles

Oxford Bookworms Playscripts Oxford Bookworms Collection

Details of these series and a full list of all titles in the o x f o r d b o o k w o r m s

can be found in the Oxford English catalogues. A selection of titles
lib ra r y

from the o x f o r d b ook w orm s lib ra ry can be found on the next pages.

101
 BOOKWORMS • HUMAN IN TEREST • STAGE 5

Heat and Dust

R U T H P R A W E R JH A B V A L A

Retold by Clare West

Heat and dust - these simple, terrible words describe the Indian
summer. Y ear after year, endlessly, it is the same. And everyone who
experiences this heat and dust is changed for ever.
We often say, in these modern times, that sexual relationships
have changed, for better or for worse. But in this book we see that
things have not changed. Whether we look back sixty years, or a
hundred and sixty, we see that it is not things that change, but
people. And, in the heat and dust of an Indian summer, even people
are not very different after all.

BOOKWORMS • HUMAN IN TEREST • STAGE 5

The Garden Party and Other Stories

K A T H E R IN E M A N S F IE L D

Retold by Rosalie Kerr

Oh, how delightful it is to fall in love for the first time! How exciting
to go to your first dance when you are a girl of eighteen! But life can
also be hard and cruel, if you are young and inexperienced and
travelling alone across Europe . . . or if you are a child from the
wrong social class . . . or a singer without work and the rent to be
paid.
Set in Europe and New Zealand, these nine stories by Katherine
Mansfield dig deep beneath the appearances of life to show us the
causes of human happiness and despair.

102
 BOOKWORMS • TH RIL LER & AD VENTURE • STAGE 5

Brat Farrar
JO S E P H IN E T E Y

Retold by Ralph Mowat

‘You look exactly like him! You can take the dead boy’s place and
no one will ever know the difference. You’ll be rich for life!’
And so the plan was born. At first Brat Farrar fought against the
idea; it was criminal, it was dangerous. But in the end he was
persuaded, and a few weeks later Patrick Ashby came back from the
dead and went home to inherit the family house and fortune. The
Ashby family seemed happy to welcome Patrick home, but Brat
soon realized that somewhere there was a time-bomb ticking away,
waiting to explode . . .

BOOKWORMS • CLASSICS • STAGE 5

Far from the Madding Crowd

TH O M AS HARDY

Retold by Clare West

Bathsheba Everdene is young, proud, and beautiful. She is an

independent woman and can marry any man she chooses - if she
chooses. In fact, she likes her independence, and she likes fighting
her own battles in a man’s world.
But it is never wise to ignore the power of love. There are three
men who would very much like to marry Bathsheba. When she falls
in love with one of them, she soon wishes she had kept her
independence. She learns that love brings misery, pain, and violent
passions that can destroy lives . . .

103
 BOOKWORMS • FAN TASY & H O RRO R • STAGE 5

Ghost Stories
R E T O L D BY R O S E M A R Y B O R D E R

After dinner we turned the lights out and played ‘hide-and-seek’. In

the dark, I touched a hand, a very cold hand. Now, because of the
game, I had to hide in the dark with . . . with this cold person - not
speaking, not knowing who it was. Slowly the others found us, hid
with us, until we were all there - all thirteen. Thirteen? But there
were only twelve people in the house! We touched each other in
the dark, counting. Thirteen. Quickly, nervously, I lit a match to
see. . .

BOOKWORMS • HUMAN IN TER EST • STAGE t>

Dublin People
M A EV E B IN C H Y

Retold by Jennifer Bassett

A young country girl comes to live and work in Dublin. Jo is

determined to be modern and independent, and to have a wonderful
time. But life in a big city is full of strange surprises for a shy country
girl. . .
Gerry Moore is a man with a problem - alcohol. He knows he
must give it up, and his family and friends watch nervously as he
battles against it. But drink is a hard enemy to fight. . .
These stories by the Irish writer Maeve Binchy are full of
affectionate humour and wit, and sometimes a little sadness.

104
When her father dies, Aku-nna and her young brother have
no one to look after them. They are welcomed by their
uncle because of Aku-nna’s ‘bride price’ - the money that
her future husband w ill pay for her.

In her new, strange home one man is kind to her and

teaches her to become a woman. Soon they are in love,
although everyone says he is not a suitable husband for
her. The more the world tries to separate them, the more
they are drawn together - until, finally, som ething has
to break.

Text adaptation by Rosemary Border

Cover illustration by Deborah Loftus

STAGE 5* OXFORD BOOKWORMS LIBRARY • HUMAN INTEREST

Bookworms provide enjoyable reading in English at six language stages,
and offer a wide range of fiction, both classic and modern.
,0

OXFORD
U N IV E R S IT Y PRESS

w w w .oup.com /elt