"And this will not be the last, because you understand us and we understand you.
You are a great family."
" Ee-e-e!"
"Prosperous men and great warriors." He looked in the direction of Okonkwo.
"Your daughter will bear us sons like you.
" Ee-e-e!"
The kola was eaten and the drinking of palm-wine began. Groups of four or five
men sat round with a pot in their midst. As the evening wore on, food was presented to
the guests. There were huge bowls of foo-foo and steaming pots of soup. There were
also pots of yam pottage. It was a great feast.
As night fell, burning torches were set on wooden tripods and the young men
raised a song. The elders sat in a big circle and the singers went round singing each
man's praise as they came before him. They had something to say for every man. Some
were great farmers, some were orators who spoke for the clan. Okonkwo was the
greatest wrestler and warrior alive. When they had gone round the circle they settled
down in the centre, and girls came from the inner compound to dance. At first the bride
was not among them. But when she finally appeared holding a cock in her right hand, a
loud cheer rose from the crowd. All the other dancers made way for her. She presented
the cock to the musicians and began to dance. Her brass anklets rattled as she danced
and her body gleamed with cam wood in the soft yellow light. The musicians with their
wood, clay and metal instruments went from song to song. And they were all gay. They
sang the latest song in the village: " If I hold her hand She says, 'Don't touch!' If i hold
her foot She says, 'Don't touch!'
But when I hold her waist-beads she pretends not to know."
The night was already far spent when the guests rose to go, taking their bride
home to spend seven market weeks with her suitor's family. They sang songs as they
went, and on their way they paid short courtesy visits to prominent men like Okonkwo,
before they finally left for their village. Okonkwo made a present of two cocks to them.