Things fall apart by Chinua Achebe

Large crowds began to gather on the village ilo as soon as the edge had worn off the sun's heat and it was no longer painful on the body.

Most communal ceremonies took place at that time of the day, so that even when it was said that a ceremony would begin "after the midday meal" everyone understood that it would begin a long time later, when the sun's heat had softened.

It was clear from the way the crowd stood or sat that the ceremony was for men.

There were many women, but they looked on from the fringe like outsiders.

The titled men and elders sat on their stools waiting for the trials to begin.

In front of them was a row of stools on which nobody sat.

There were nine of them.

Two little groups of people stood at a respectable distance beyond the stools.

They faced the elders.

There were three men in one group and three men and one woman in the other.

The woman was Mgbafo and the three men with her were her brothers.

In the other group were her husband, Uzowulu, and his relatives.

Mgbafo and her brothers were as still as statues into whose faces the artist has moulded defiance.

Uzowulu and his relative, on the other hand, were whispering together.

It looked like whispering, but they were really talking at the top of their voices.

Everybody in the crowd was talking.

It was like the market.

From a distance the noise was a deep rumble carried by the wind.

An iron gong sounded, setting up a wave of expectation in the crowd.

Everyone looked in the direction of the egwugwu house.