My Suicide

As soon as the fine was paid, my fellow prisoners and I were finally set free. I could not force myself anymore to listen about good government from the District Commissioner and decided to keep quiet. 

When we had finally reached the village, I guessed that the clan knew about the fearsome looks plastered on our face and edged out to give us way to pass with no “nno” or “welcome”. At night, I could not put myself to sleep. Before I went to bed, I suddenly got excited and began to look back at my war dress which I had not touched since my return from the exile. I had also shaken out my smoked raffia skirt and examined my tall feather head-gear with my shield. I thought that they were all satisfactory. Vengeance. It is the word that began to fill my mind. The day after, I went to the marketing place and looked for one man in particular, whose tongue is dreaded and despised so much. I did not care anymore to what he does to others, I shall fight alone if I choose to do so. “Worthy men are no more,”. “Isike will never forget how we slaughtered them in that war.”. Unfortunately, he did not showed up, so Okika, the orator, spoke to the crowd but his voice was not strong enough to silence the crowd. So, Onyeka was asked to greet the village. I was very anxious to see what is going to happen. Suddenly, while Okika was talking, from the side I was sitting, five court messengers appeared.

            

          The moment I saw them, I sprang to my feet and confronted the head messenger, with hate, without words. When he asked for his way and, “The white man whose power you know too well has ordered this meeting to stop.”, I was furious and drew my machete. The next minute, I saw the man’s head on the ground. I just stood there and looked at the dead body while the rest of the messengers fled. I heard voices asking, “Why did he do it?”. At that moment, I realized that Umuofia is not going to war because no one followed the messengers to give the last strike but instead, they let them escaped. I dropped my machete and left. I walked helplessly until I had reached my compound. I was feeling nothing. Not despair, not anger, not hatred, but only one thought, a question, ‘why?’. I cannot let whites dig up the whole Umuofia, for they had scratched it enough. I cannot let the ancestors go against me once I am dead, for not restraining on what has upheld the clan for so many years. I saw no effort among the clan to fight for our rights but questioned my action. If I were asked to accept their changes, then I would rather die. And I did, I still believe in the old Umuofia.