So many people have written about Chinua Achebe so knowledgeably in the past few days; I can’t come close to that.
I know next to nothing about him, but the sense of loss I felt when I read about his death was like a pit within me.
I was introduced to Achebe when in college, with, of course Things Fall Apart. After that, I read little about him and by him. Yet, the impression he made on this young student of literature was so powerful that even today, images of the novel remain in my head. The iron horse, the sacred silk-cotton tree, the cowries and the bride-price. What a simple, wonderful writer he was.
The world will miss him.