As the man who had cleared his throat drew up and raised his machete, Okonkwo looked away. He heard Ikemefuna cry, “My father, they have killed me!” as he ran towards him. Dazed with fear, Okonkwo drew his machete and cut him down. He was afraid of being thought as weak. (Achebe 61)
I listen to the loud pounding of the travelers’ footsteps around me. The thump thump thump syncs with my heartbeat as the silence allows thoughts to fill my head. Memories of my family remind me of my childhood and how I have grown.
I remember my village and when I was a young boy being chased by the evil spirits that would run after all the young boys in our village. When I ran out of breath, I would hide under the little table in my father’s hut, but I was always found because when the spirits would walk around I would not be able to contain my giggles.
One day, I hid under the table, and my father with all of the village leaders walked into the hut. They seemed distraught as they spoke quietly and quickly. I held my breath and bit my lip; the urge to laugh almost exposed my hiding spot. The council members spoke about a young man that had killed a woman near the river. They were discussing his punishment for this great offense. The eldest council who had not spoken rose his hand and said, “This young man will be killed with a pot full of kola nuts held above his head, so when he would be slain down to the ground the pot will crash and his death would be known to all who shut their eyes.” Silence overcame the room and they all left the hut. 
A thundering cough interrupted my thoughts, and I returned to the laborious walk. My legs started to weigh. I felt like I was drugged with a delirious notion that made me believe that my own father would kill me just as my village killed the young man.
I had not killed anyone nor would my father allow them to injure me. I am protected by the strong bond of a father and his son. Unless my father did not see me as his son, and I mean nothing to him. Yet those tedious days of planting yams and wrestling matches assured me of our relationship. Okonkwo has taught me to be a man. I have nothing to worry about. My life is in the hands of my father.
Tension starts to spread amongst the group. The air feels thinner as I struggle to take a breath. Suddenly a cold shiver runs through my back. A crisp blade exposes my back; I feel empty when I cry out, “My father, they have killed me!” Okonkwo comes to comfort me and protect me. I feel his warm presence until I saw my reflection in his machete. I accept his blow and plunge onto the frozen floor. I stare at the shoes of my father and fall asleep.
Bibliography
- https://blogs.soas.ac.uk/archives/2014/05/ -The village leaders meeting
- http://enaburg.com.ng/kolanut.html- Kola nut represents acceptance and unification
- www.pinterest.com/dionfreemind/afrikan-art/ -Father and his son
- http://www.metmuseum.org/connections/war_and_conflict -War and Conflict -Oba with Animals by:Nigeria; Edo peoples, court of Benin
I feel as if you incorporated some type of word that really accentuates the sentence. The extra descriptive words enhance your story into a more engaging one. US hearing the "thumps" in our heads really transport us into that particular scene. I feel like your descriptions and overall writing style was great in enhancing your story.
ReplyDeleteI very much enjoyed your transition from the introduction of the story, in which you set the scene of walking away from the village with the other men, to Ikemefuna's memories of his childhood. The ties you make between what Ikemefuna remembers overhearing as a young boy and his current situation allow your story to flow in a logical and comfortable manner.
ReplyDeleteI thoroughly enjoyed the idea of incorporating Ikemefuna’s childhood into the story. This makes the reader relate with Ikemefuna due to the shared experience of playing hide and seek and giggling with nervousness. The harsh snap back to reality in the story is almost as cold and harsh as the machete used to kill Ikemefuna.
ReplyDeleteCatalina, I enjoyed how you created a new perspective of Ikemefuna. Before his death, Ikemefuna recalls a memory where he listened to his village’s council decide to kill a young man with a basket on his head. I thought it was interesting how Ikemefuna is not scared of dying even though he is in the same situation as the young man in his memory because he believes Okonkwo will protect him. This makes Okonkwo’s betrayal even more heartbreaking and unexpected.
ReplyDeleteI really liked that you employed sound as a motif throughout the piece and conveyed Ikemefuna’s emotions through auditory descriptions, as it gave the reader the ability to vividly imagine the scene from Ikemefuna’s perspective. You began this motif in the first sentence, where you describe the noises Ikemefuna hears while walking away from Okonkwo’s village- he “listens to the loud pounding of the travelers’ footsteps around [him]. The thump thump thump syncs with [his] heartbeat as the silence allows thoughts to fill [his] head.” These two sentences immediately demonstrate that, at the beginning of his walk, he is completely aware of the actions and moods of those around him, and finds calm in the constant rhythm of their walking procession. Soon after, Ikemefuna recounts a time when, as a child, he jokingly hid in a hut but had trouble avoiding laughter (or “giggles”) which would have given his hiding spot away. In describing his childish, innocuous laughter, you conveyed his previous innocence and his maturation since leaving his village. Throughout the piece, you continue to use descriptions of sounds, which each have individual emotional connotations (“they spoke quietly and quickly”, etc.) to demonstrate Ikemefuna’s emotional perspective at different points in the story; as a whole, I think this tactic added a lot to a reader’s sensory experience, and made the story feel real and engaging.
ReplyDelete