"The white man is very clever. He came quietly and peaceably with his religion. We were amused at his foolishness and allowed him to stay. Now he has won our brothers, and our clan can no longer act like one. He has put a knife on the things that held us together and we have fallen apart."

It's so unrelenting to see this POV play out. I'm used to stories about takeover by war or by trade and force. Its rare to contextualize this slow spread turned overtaking.

"You do not know me," said Tortoise. "I am a changed man. I have learned that a man who makes trouble for others is also making it for himself."

Part of the main theme speaks itself aloud in the form of Ekwefi's story. Okonkwo is present, but he's made clear to his son that he doesn't respect women's stories, only men's. In this, he seals his fate, ignoring the warning presented right in front of him.

This also reminds me of one of Sophus Helle's essays on Gilgamesh, in which the role of women in the story is discussed. The patriarchal standards of the time dictate that women seldom speak, yet this cycle is created through fear of women's speech, because the few times women do speak up in the Epic, whatever they say rings true, sealing the main character's fate.

Similarly, we only get small windows into the perspective of the women in this story (though purposefully so this time, as Achebe is critiquing Nigerian masculinity). They are short, gentle breathers in between Okonkwo's crass, violent perspective. Yet this is one of the few times we really hear them speak, and it's no coincidence her tale is a reflection of Okonkwo's inevitable fall.