Ezinma and her mother sat on a mat on the floor after their supper of yam foo-
foo and bitter-leaf soup. A palm-oil lamp gave out yellowish light. Without it, it would
have been impossible to eat,-one could not have known where one's mouth was in the
darkness of that night. There was an oil lamp in all the four huts on Okonkwo's
compound, and each hut seen from the others looked like a soft eye of yellow half-light
set in the solid massiveness of night.