Okposalebo: Of Famed Palm-Wine and Braggart Drinkers

“It had happened on the festival day that as Obika and Ofoedu drank with the three men at the market place, one of the men had thrown a challenge to them. The conversation had turned on the amount of palm-wine a good drinker could take without losing knowledge of himself. 

     'It all depends on the palm-tree and the tapper,’ said one of the men. 

     ‘Yes,’ agreed his friend, Maduka. ‘It depends on the tree and the man who taps it,’ 

     ‘That is not so. It depends on the man who drinks. You may bring any tree in Umuaro and any tapper,’ said Ofoedu, ‘and I shall still drink my bellyful and go home with clear eyes.’ 

     Obika agreed with his friend. ‘It is true that some trees are stronger than others and some tappers are better than others, but a good drinker will defeat them both.’ 

     ‘Have you heard of the palm-tree in my village which they call Okposalebo?’ Obika and Ofoedu said no. 

     ‘Anyone who has not heard of Okposalebo and yet claims to be a good drinker deceives himself.’ 

     ‘What Maduka says is very true,’ said one of the others. ’The wine from this tree is never sold in the market, and no one can drink three hornfuls and still know his way home.’ 

     ’This Okposalebo is a very old tree. It is called Disperser of a Kindred because two brothers would fight like strangers after drinking two hornfuls of its wine.’ 

     ’Tell us another story,’ Obika said, filling his horn. ‘If the tapper adds medicine to his wine that is another matter, but if you are telling us of the fluid as the tree yields it, then I say tell us another story.’ 

     Then Maduka threw the challenge. ‘It is not profitable to speak too many words. The palm-tree is not in the distant river ian country, but here in Umuaro. Let us go from here to Nwokafo’s compound and ask him to give us a gourd from this tree. It is very costly - the gourd may be ego-nese - but I shall pay. If you two drank three hornfuls each and still go home let it be my loss. But if not you must give me ego-neli whenever you come to your senses again.’ 

     It was as Maduka had said. The two had fallen asleep where they sat, and when night came he left them there and retired to his bed. But he came out twice in the night and found them still snoring. When he woke up finally in the morning, they were gone. He wished he had seen them depart. Perhaps when they heard their betters talking about palm-wine in future they would not open their mouths so side. 

     Ofoedu did not seem to have fared as badly as Obika. When he woke up and found that the sun was already shining he rushed to Ezeulu’s compound to call Obika. But although they shouted his name and shook him he showed no sign of stirring. Eventually Ofoedu poured a gourd of water over him and he woke up. The two then set out to join their age group working on the new road. They were like a pair of Night Masks caught abroad by daylight.” 

Chinua Achebe, 2010, 365-366 

Things Fall Apart, in The African Trilogy: Things Fall Apart, No Longer at Ease, Arrow of God