sheathed machete on his shoulder and went out to join him. Obierika's hut was close to
the road and he saw every man who passed to the marketplace. He had exchanged
greetings with many who had already passed that morning.
When Okonkwo and Obierika got to the meeting place there were already so
many people that if one threw up a grain of sand it would not find its way to the earth
again. And many more people were coming from every quarter of the nine villages. It
warmed Okonkwo's heart to see such strength of numbers. But he was looking for one
man in particular, the man whose tongue he dreaded and despised so much.
"Can you see him?" he asked Obierika.
"Who?"
"Egonwanne," he said, his eyes roving from one corner of the huge marketplace
to the other. Most of the men sat on wooden stools they had brought with them.
"No," said Obierika, casting his eyes over the crowd. "Yes, there he is, under the
silk-cotton tree. Are you afraid he would convince us not to fight?"
"Afraid? I do not care what he does to you. I despise him and those who listen to
him. I shall fight alone if I choose."
They spoke at the top of their voices because everybody was talking, and it was
like the sound of a great market.
"I shall wait till he has spoken," Okonkwo thought. "Then I shall speak."
"But how do you know he will speak against war?" Obierika asked after a while.
"Because I know he is a coward," said Okonkwo. Obierika did not hear the rest
of what he said because at that moment somebody touched his shoulder from behind
and he turned round to shake hands and exchange greetings with five or six friends.
Okonkwo did not turn round even though he knew the voices. He was in no mood to
exchange greetings. But one of the men touched him and asked about the people of his
compound.