themselves because the white man had said he was going to live among them. They had
not thought about that.
At this point an old man said he had a question. "Which is this god of yours," he
asked, "the goddess of the earth, the god of the sky, Amadiora or the thunderbolt, or
what?"
The interpreter spoke to the white man and he immediately gave his answer.
"All the gods you have named are not gods at all. They are gods of deceit who tell you
to kill your fellows and destroy innocent children. There is only one true God and He
has the earth, the sky, you and me and all of us."
"If we leave our gods and follow your god," asked another man, "who will
protect us from the anger of our neglected gods and ancestors?"
"Your gods are not alive and cannot do you any harm," replied the white man.
"They are pieces of wood and stone."
When this was interpreted to the men of Mbanta they broke into derisive
laughter. These men must be mad, they said to themselves. How else could they say that
Ani and Amadiora were harmless? And Idemili and Ogwugwu too? And some of them
began to go away.
Then the missionaries burst into song. It was one of those gay and rollicking
tunes of evangelism which had the power of plucking at silent and dusty chords in the
heart of an Ibo man. The interpreter explained each verse to the audience, some of
whom now stood enthralled. It was a story of brothers who lived in darkness and in fear,
ignorant of the love of God. It told of one sheep out on the hills, away from the gates of
God and from the tender shepherd's care.
After the singing the interpreter spoke about the Son of God whose name was
Jesu Kristi. Okonkwo, who only stayed in the hope that it might come to chasing the
men out of the village or whipping them, now said "You told us with your own mouth