I finished 'Things fall apart' day before yesterday and I have been thinking a lot since then. The plot of this book was simple but the more I think about it, the more it gets complex and I am already sensing an existential crisis thanks to Chinua Achebe. If anything reading has taught me all these years, there's one thing that will stick with me forever and this book is a perfect example for that -- 'the world is not exactly black and white, there's always a place for gray to paint. No one is perfect here and when there is a dispute, somehow both sides will bear the responsibility because in a way, we are all different yet same at the core.' Yes, we get to know the impact of British colonisation more clearly in novels like this but also when the culture orders you to kill your twin babies and outcast women or anyone who the men think are not capable to live among them, why not abandon the culture and do what you think is good for you. But in cases like this, neither of them was evil. It might have been an insult to men who had titles and privileges but what about people who had lost their children and family to the custom of ancestors they haven't even seen. They will of course choose Christianity over this outdated culture. But at the same time, British has no rights to invade a country and occupy the space like the way they did and inflicted racism. It's both depressing and overwhelming to think of this world as a complex structure. What are we fighting for at the end? Is there an end?