As time went by, people kept telling me that it was a great
novel. My family members had all read it. A month ago, a good friend suggested
that I read Chinua Achebe’s “Things Fall Apart”, and by some naturally
occurring phenomenon I picked up my sister’s copy and read it.
Cover to cover, it was a great novel. More than that, it
tells the story of interconnectedness that so many of us choose to ignore. But,
if we choose to read about it, it can open us up to the wonders of who we are
and where we come from.
It tells the story of an Ibo village in Nigeria
not so long ago. Like a folktale about tradition, family, beliefs, and customs
it invited me into a life that only my grandparents and those before them knew
in totality. Though my parents and relatives know these elements well, as immigrants
who were brought up in a country “fallen apart” so to speak, they have carried on
with traditions mixed with an imposed cultural ideology.
Thankfully, I chose to broaden my knowledge of what I have
had a limited understanding of. Reading
“Things Fall Apart” led me to questions and exploration of my own family
history. It brought back memories of my parents’ sharing of ideals and values.
More significantly, it captured my imagination and my heart.
I know Okonkwo and his father’s duality. It exists in every
family, generation after generation. I have heard of Ezinma and have seen
Ekwefi’s struggle. It tells a beautifully unabashed account of a people- their
livelihood, land, and customs - through proverbs, symbolism and vivid detail.
First published in 1958, “Things Fall Apart” has several
sequels that share the stories of the main character’s family members. An
acclaimed Nigerian author and accomplished professor, Chinua Achebe passed away on March 21, 2013.
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