Things Fall Apart – Chapter 26

            It was late in the afternoon, Obierika stood a comfortable distance away from the lifeless, wilting, dying body of Okonkwo. Obierika knew it was not the best to touch him, as much as she wanted to one last time. She looked at his hand, there was a tattered banana leaf sitting between his two fingers. She asked a stranger to take it from Okonkwo and to hand it to her. Obierika unwrinkled the banana leaf and read what was written on the inside…

            “To whom ever reads this, you recognize my absence to the present world. However, I am present mentally, nno. Life itself is changing ever second when you have missionaries. They shall change you, making you one of their own. Causing you to forget who you are to ruin the better lives of future generations. For the time I was alive, I saw us as obodo dike, but that has obviously changed. I know that I am not the only one who finds these changes to be different and unappreciated, but when they conquer our land to the fullest extent, I shall be the tufia of Umuofia.”

            Obierika stopped reading for a few minutes to absorb and reminisce the words of wisdom that were being portrayed in the death note. The emotions of denial and misunderstanding was overpowering, Obierika fought to keep in the tears of regret.

            “Why had we not believed?” murmured Obierika. She proceeds to read, this time trying to hold everything in until the end.

            “I don’t reckon that is necessary to live somewhere anymore if your roots are ripped apart like a flower in the ground. My original land will never be the same, and I have nowhere else to go except with chi. We will sit together high in the sky on the clouds, eat Kola Nuts, talking about how life will never be the same, for he is the only one who shall understand. We shall talk about how they had no pity on us and shall never have pity on us. And as they showed they had no pity on us, I showed the same. Word will probably be out way after my soul flies high into the sky. They will not be able to banish again, and even they did so, it would be pointless for it would make no change. That is all I have to say, and I am long gone right now. To whomever reads, don’t forget me, don’t forget Umuofia.”

             Obierika took a quick look and noticed the hand where the letter once was. It was missing something. His jigida had no longer been on his wrist; it was broken, all over the floor under where Okonkwo was hanging. Obierika took the beads, wrapped it in the banana. She then dug a hole and places it in.

             “I cannot touch you, but you are still with us in Umuofia.”