Those women whom Obierika's wife had not asked to help her with the cooking
returned to their homes, and the rest went back, in a body, to Obierika's compound.
"Whose cow was it?" asked the women who had been allowed to stay behind.
"It was my husband's," said Ezelagbo. "One of the young children had opened
the gate of the cow-shed."
Early in the afternoon the first two pots of palm-wine arrived from Obierika's inlaws. They were duly presented to the women, who drank a cup or two each, to help
them in their cooking. Some of it also went to the bride and her attendant maidens, who
were putting the last delicate touches of razor to her coiffure and cam wood on her
smooth skin.
When the heat of the sun began to soften, Obierika's son, Maduka, took a long
broom and swept the ground in front of his father's obi. And as if they had been waiting
for that, Obierika's relatives and friends began to arrive, every man with his goatskin
bag hung on one shoulder and a rolled goatskin mat under his arm. Some of them were
accompanied by their sons bearing carved wooden stools. Okonkwo was one of them.
They sat in a half-circle and began to talk of many things. It would not be long before
the suitors came.
Okonkwo brought out his snuff-bottle and offered it to Ogbuefi Ezenwa, who sat
next to him. Ezenwa took it, tapped it on his kneecap, rubbed his left palm on his body
to dry it before tipping a little snuff into it. His actions were deliberate, and he spoke as
he performed them: "1 hope our in-laws will bring many pots of wine. Although they
come from a village that is known for being closefisted, they ought to know that Akueke
is the bride for a king."
"They dare not bring fewer than thirty pots," said Okonkwo. "I shall tell them
my mind if they do."
At that moment Obierika's son, Maduka, led out the giant goat from the inner
compound, for his father's relatives to see. They all admired it and said that that was the
way things should be done. The goat was then led back to the inner compound.