CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Okonkwo and his fellow prisoners were set free as soon as the fine was paid. The
District Commissioner spoke to them again about the great queen, and about peace and
good government. But the men did not listen. They just sat and looked at him and at his
interpreter. In the end they were given back their bags and sheathed machetes and told
to go home. They rose and left the courthouse. They neither spoke to anyone nor among
themselves. The courthouse, like the church, was built a little way outside the village.
The footpath that linked them was a very busy one because it also led to the stream,
beyond the court. It was open and sandy. Footpaths were open and sandy in the dry
season. But when the rains came the bush grew thick on either side and closed in on the
path. It was now dry season. As they made their way to the village the six men met
women and children going to the stream with their waterpots. But the men wore such
heavy and fearsome looks that the women and children did not say "nno" or "welcome"
to them, but edged out of the way to let them pass. In the village little groups of men
joined them until they became a sizable company. They walked silently. As each of the
six men got to his compound, he turned in, taking some of the crowd with him. The
village was astir in a silent, suppressed way.
Ezinma had prepared some food for her father as soon as news spread that the
six men would be released. She took it to him in his obi. He ate absent-mindedly. He
had no appetite, he only ate to please her. His male relatio