I just decided to do a search on this book on the Internet considering all the negative and controversial publicity it has gotten. It grabbed all my attention right from the first sentence and I found it a very great and interesting read. Achebe is definitely an excellent writer and we as Nigerians should be proud to have to such a literary genius. This excurpt was gotten from a preview of the book at amazon.com.

[b]A Primary Exposure

I began my formal education at St. Philip’s Central School, in 1936 or thereabout. The school had pupils from Ogidi and the surrounding towns. Most who attended classes there had to walk alone several miles every day to get to school. But things were simpler and safer in those days, and there was never a story of child abductions or any unsavory incidents that I can recall.

I enjoyed school a great deal and was a hardworking pupil. I remember looking forward excitedly to new lessons and information from our teachers. Occasionally we received instruction from individuals who were not on the staff of St. Philip’s. One particular, humorous event stands out: On a hot and humid day during the wet season our geography teacher decided to move our entire class outside to the cool shade of a large mango tree. After setting up the blackboard he proceeded to give the class a lesson on the geography of Great Britain. The village “madman” came by, and after standing and listening to the teacher’s lesson for a short while, walked up to him, snatched the chalk from his hand, wiped the blackboard, and proceeded to give us an extended lesson on Ogidi, my hometown.

Amazingly, the teacher let all this take place without incident. Looking back, it is instructive, in my estimation, that it was a so-called madman whose “clarity of perspective” first identified the incongruity of our situation: that the pupils would benefit not only from a colonial education but also by instruction about their own history and civilization.

The headmaster of St. Philip’s Central School was a colorful, extraordinary Igbo man—Jonathan Obimdike Okongwu. He was also known as: Ara eme ya eme na uno akwukwo Okongwu or Ara eme ya eme, for short. He was one of a handful of Nigerians who had attained the distinction of headmaster of an elementary school. His reputation as a disciplinarian sent chills down the spines of all pupils throughout the Eastern Region. St. Philip’s school lore holds that he once spanked every pupil in every class in each form of the entire school in one day—and continued the very next day where he left off! Okongwu’s unorthodox methods produced top scores on exams, which placed his students in the best boarding schools throughout West Africa, and made him one of the most sought after headmasters in the entire region.
Okongwu was transferred to St. Michael’s School, Aba, a well-regarded school in one of the largest commercial cities in eastern Nigeria. Chike Momah and Dr. Francis Egbuonu, who later became students at Government College, Umuahia, completed their elementary school education there. My wife, Christie Okoli, for a brief period, also attended that school. Christie recalls being the only one in her class to evade Mr. Okongwu’s cane during a spelling lesson. The word that produced a score of sore bottoms was “because.” For every word missed the pupil was “rewarded” with a spanking. The majority of the pupils came up with “becos, becus, or becoz.” They never forgot how to spell because ever again.

Okongwu was a pillar of the Igbo community for his time. He was extensively admired for his achievements in education. It is difficult to convey just how important teachers like Okongwu, who were seriously committed to their work, were to the Igbo community, particularly as that is no longer the case today. Education, the white man’s knowledge, was a collective aspiration of the entire community. It was the path to individual and family success, and headmaster Okongwu and others like him held the proverbial keys to the kingdom.

Okongwu was a generous man and sponsored a number of children in various schools in Nigeria and abroad. There is a well-known story of how he sent one of his nephews to America to study. He clearly had great expectations for his nephew. In those days, men like Okongwu, who had the means, sent family members abroad to advance their education with the hope that they would return and improve the standard of living of their family and community. Apparently this nephew did quite well and earned his PhD. Sadly, just before he returned to Nigeria, he became quite ill and died. Okongwu was devastated.
The last time I saw Okongwu was at the train station in Enugu, the capital of the Eastern Region. He came there to see his son Sonny Chu Okongwu off to Government College, Umuahia. He was standing, leaning on the railing with his right hand holding on to the bars. He spotted me from a distance and called me over, introduced me to his son, and asked me to “take care of Sonny at Government College.” It struck me that the senior Okongwu appeared unhappy. The loss of his nephew clearly had taken a lot out of him.[\B][/b]