In the following simile from Chapter 5, Okonkwo's desire to "conquer and subdue" his enemies in battle is likened to his sexual desire for women:
Okonkwo cleared his throat and moved his feet to the beat of the drums. It filled him with fire as it had always done from his youth. He trembled with the desire to conquer and subdue. It was like the desire for woman.
This simile links male sexuality to violence, reflecting the gender politics at play within the novel on a broader level. Within postcolonial literature, it is common to juxtapose sexual violence and colonial violence—an especially apt comparison when one considers that these often occurred in tandem. Okonkwo's impulse to "conquer and subdue" in war morphs into a desire to "conquer and subdue" women. Both actions involve the more powerful party exerting influence over the less powerful, eventually forcing the more vulnerable party to submit. Indeed, it is common across many different cultures for men to rape enemy women as a means of establishing dominance.
Following in the tradition of postcolonial deconstruction, Achebe attempts to illuminate these connections between sexual and colonial violence. Okonkwo's personal statement reflects not only his personal misogyny, but also misogyny writ large—a force turned on indigenous men and women alike as a tool of colonial oppression.
Both of the following instances of figurative language concern the same core components and themes and are thus worth discussing in tandem. In both passages, Achebe compares ceremonial drumming to a heartbeat—the village's "heartbeat."
The first instance of this "heartbeat" comparison appears as a simile in Chapter 5:
The drums were still beating, persistent and unchanging. Their sound was no longer a separate things from the living village. It was like the pulsation of its heart.
In Chapter 6, Achebe makes a similar comparison, this time in the form of a metaphor:
The crowd had surrounded and swallowed up the drummers, whose frantic rhythm was no longer a mere disembodied sound but the very heartbeat of the people.
These ceremonies are an important part of community-building and tradition, even an integral part of clan members' personal identities. The integral nature of the drums to the "health" of the village mirrors the heart's important role in the human body. The heart must pump blood through the body in order to sustain life; similarly, the drums must distribute music throughout the village to maintain unity and camaraderie. The above simile and metaphor demonstrate that in Umuofia, collectivism and community support take precedence over all other things. They are the lifeblood of the village.
Both of the following instances of figurative language concern the same core components and themes and are thus worth discussing in tandem. In both passages, Achebe compares ceremonial drumming to a heartbeat—the village's "heartbeat."
The first instance of this "heartbeat" comparison appears as a simile in Chapter 5:
The drums were still beating, persistent and unchanging. Their sound was no longer a separate things from the living village. It was like the pulsation of its heart.
In Chapter 6, Achebe makes a similar comparison, this time in the form of a metaphor:
The crowd had surrounded and swallowed up the drummers, whose frantic rhythm was no longer a mere disembodied sound but the very heartbeat of the people.
These ceremonies are an important part of community-building and tradition, even an integral part of clan members' personal identities. The integral nature of the drums to the "health" of the village mirrors the heart's important role in the human body. The heart must pump blood through the body in order to sustain life; similarly, the drums must distribute music throughout the village to maintain unity and camaraderie. The above simile and metaphor demonstrate that in Umuofia, collectivism and community support take precedence over all other things. They are the lifeblood of the village.
In Chapter 7, Achebe uses simile to describe Nwoye's tumultuous feelings following the death of Ikemefuna:
Nwoye had heard that twins were put in earthenware pots and thrown away in the forest, but he had never yet come across them. A vague chill had descended on him and his head had seemed to swell, like a solitary walker at night who passes an evil spirit on the way. Then something had given way inside him. It descended on him again, this feeling, when his father walked in, that night after killing Ikemefuna.
Achebe compares Nwoye's emotions to those of a "solitary walker" passing an "evil spirit" in the night. In this analogy, Okonkwo is the "evil spirit" who makes Nwoye shiver with dread. Achebe utilizes figurative language here to indicate Nwoye's uneasiness at the more violent aspects of spirituality in his community—especially the actions of Okonkwo, who dealt a killing blow to Ikemefuna.
These sentiments resurface within Nwoye at a later point in the novel, drawn out by the missionaries' challenging of Ibo/Igbo cultural practices. By exacting uncalled-for violence on Ikemefuna, Okonkwo plants a seed of discontent in Nwoye's mind. Later on, European missionaries exploit that seed, using Nwoye's preexisting doubts to convince him to convert to Christianity.
In Chapter 11, Okonkwo and Ekwefi undergo a terrifying series of events, forced to observe as their only daughter Ezinma is summoned before the god Agbala in the middle of the night. Achebe uses a variety of figurative language, including paradox and simile, to set the mood:
Chielo ignored what [Okonkwo] was trying to say and went on shouting that Agbala wanted to see his daughter. Her voice was clear as metal, and Okonkwo's women and children heard from their huts all that she said.
In this excerpt Achebe utilizes simile as a device, comparing Chielo's voice to metal. Within this simile exists a seemingly paradoxical statement: the priestess's voice is as "clear as metal." Metal is generally not see-through—thus, it appears contradictory to describe the "metal" of Chielo's voice as "clear." Achebe uses this bit of figurative language to describe more than just the sonic quality of Chielo's voice. "Clear[ness]" encompasses intent and assertiveness, indicating Chielo's confidence, as well as the harshness of her voice. When inhabited by the spirit of Agbala, Chielo becomes a different person. In such a state, her "clearness" and harshness stem from her authority as a divine representative. Both qualities serve to intimidate those around her, making people like Okonkwo and Ekwefi, normally Chielo's friends, intimidated and frightened.
In Chapter 17, Nwoye finds himself enticed by the Christians who come to build their church on the grounds of the Evil Forest. Speaking from the young boy's perspective, Achebe employs simile to describe the church's appearance:
[Nwoye] heard the voice of singing and although it came from a handful of men it was loud and confident. Their church stood on a circular clearing that looked like the open mouth of the Evil Forest. Was it waiting to snap its teeth together?
In this excerpt, Achebe uses simile as a device to explore Nwoye's perspective on Christianity. Comparing the circular church clearing to the "open mouth of the Evil Forest," Achebe invokes the idea of divine punishment. Upon their arrival in his village, Nwoye believes that the Christians will be punished for their defiance of Ibo gods and traditions. Achebe personifies the Evil Forest in this passage to indicate the strength of Nwoye's belief in these ancestral traditions. Like his clansmen, Nwoye firmly abides by the laws of the Ibo gods, according Nature ultimate power and agency.
This initial belief fades with time: Nwoye never does observe the forest's teeth snapping together around the Christians. In fact, Christians largely escape punishment at the hands of Nwoye's ancestral gods. Their continued presence in the forest challenges Nwoye's faith, making him doubt the Evil Forest's total power.
In Chapter 23, Achebe uses simile to characterize the general air of anticipation, terror, and uncertainty within the Umuofia clan upon learning that six of their leaders are imprisoned.
Umuofia was like a startled animal with ears erect, sniffing the silent, ominous air and not knowing which way to run.
Achebe likens the village to a "startled animal" that does not know "which way to run." The villagers seemingly cannot sense from which direction danger will approach, given that this form of conflict is unprecedented for them. At this point, however, survival instincts have kicked in—the villagers understand that White people are a threat. They understand that they must run away, but remain startled and unable to act as danger closes in from all sides.
This simile evokes the image of prey being stalked by a hunter. Via indirect association, this imagery relates Umuofia to a prey animal, and their White occupiers to a predator stalking them through the forest. In likening White people to hunters, Achebe draws attention to their predatory behavior. These colonizers do not have the best interests of the Ibo people at heart, caring more about stealing resources and maintaining "law and order" than treating indigenous people with respect.