Old gods displaced by the new

Things Fall Apart is one of the thinnest books on my shelf and yet one of the most precious ones. Plainly and colourfully, Chinua Achebe, in this book, shows how a rigid thing like tradition falls apart under stubborn alien powers.
In a native village called Umuofia, villagers were living steady lives that were full of woes and delights, little joys and little sorrows. But… unexpectedly the native village suddenly becomes the stage for the conflict between Christian missionaries and polytheistic Igbo villagers. Okonkow, the valiant warrior of the clan, sees his beliefs, rituals and age-old lifestyle crumpling down as churches are set up and courts are established by the missionaries. The title of a great wrestler no more gives him respect. People from the village are taught at school and for them such titles hold no value. Some of the Igbo villagers get jobs as clerks and start to compare their social status on a different scale a scale of education. The converts from the village revolt against the ancient elders who are supposedly the judges under the guidance of their creator. But the definition of the Creator is different for the white strangers.
Okonkwo and the others believed in many gods. Although Chukwuka is their main god, they had gods for crops, weather, health and children. They sacrificed animals to satisfy the gods. However, for the holy men, the white missionaries, God is but one entity in the universe. Through schools, hospitals, churches, Mr. Brown preaches his philosophy of the one God. Such a simple policy of a god who is all-forgiving and all-loving makes some villagers admire the religion of the white men but there are some who look upon it as an enemy of their forefathers' beliefs.
Change has to take place and only one can emerge victorious out of the conflict. So it happens. With cunning tactics the missionaries fortify themselves while frustration and hopelessness shroud the Igbos. How all of it happens and what comes in the end is for you to discover.
Throughout the novel Achebe navigates the readers through the vibrant Igbo culture. Here's one of his descriptions: as night fell, burning torches were set on wooden tripods and the young men raised a song. The elders sat in 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 musician 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.
The simplicity in Achebe's prose elevates his position as a writer and for a moment the innocent aura that Achebe creates seems to rightly answer Conrad's Heart of Darkness. Perhaps this novel wishes to convey that things are not as dark as we feel they are. Achebe requests us not to be like the fictional author of The Pacification of the Primitive Tribes of the Lower Niger whom we find at the end of the novel, belittling the self-respect of an Igbo villager.
To state generally, every culture has its own value system; its laws and its traditions based on the psychology of that particular community. And after reading this book I realize that if heaping one's own tradition on another was the right thing, then the world would be paradise by now.

Efadul Huq is a critic and freelance writer.