CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Go-di-di-go-go-di-go. Di-go-go-di-go. It was the ekwe talking to the clan. One of the
things every man learned was the language of the hollowed-out wooden instrument.
Dum! Dum! Dum! boomed the cannon at intervals.
The first cock had not crowed, and Umuofia was still swallowed up in sleep and
silence when the ekwe began to talk, and the cannon shattered the silence. Men stirred
on their bamboo beds and listened anxiously. Somebody was dead. The cannon seemed
to rend the sky. Di-go-go-di-go-di-di-go-go floated in the message-laden night air. The
faint and distant wailing of women settled like a sediment of sorrow on the earth. Now
and again a full-chested lamentation rose above the wailing whenever a man came into
the place of death. He raised his voice once or twice in manly sorrow and then sat down
with the other men listening to the endless wailing of the women and the esoteric
language of the ekwe. Now and again the cannon boomed. The wailing of the women
would not be heard beyond the village, but the ekwe carried the news to all the nine
villages and even beyond. It began by naming the clan: Umuofia obodo dike! "the land
of the brave." Umuofia obodo dike! Umuofia obodo dike! It said this over and over
again, and as it dwelt on it, anxiety mounted in every heart that heaved on a bamboo bed
that night. Then it went nearer and named the village: " Iguedo of the yellow grindingstone!" It was Okonkwo's village. Again and again Iguedo was called and men waited
breathlessly in all the nine villages. At last the man was named and people sighed "E-uu, Ezeudu is dead." A cold shiver ran down Okonkwo's back as he remembered the last
time the old man had visited him. "That boy calls you father," he had said. "Bear no
hand in his death."
Ezeudu was a great man, and so all the clan was at his funeral. The ancient
drums of death beat, guns and cannon were fired, and men dashed about in frenzy,
cutting down every tree or animal they saw, jumping over walls and dancing on the
roof. It was a warrior's funeral, and from morning till night warriors came and went in
their age groups. They all wore smoked raffia skirts and their bodies were painted with