The novels Things Fall Apart and The Joys of Motherhood both present Nigeria as a competitive, consumer-crazed country. Each novel, therefore, also creates a parallel between Nigeria and Western capitalist societies, yet each shows that the differences are not in degree, but in detail. Furthermore, both Things Fall Apart and The Joys of Motherhood present alternative views of how colonialism affected the country's traditional morals and values. Say no to plagiarism. Get a tailor-made essay on "Why Violent Video Games Shouldn't Be Banned"? Get an Original Essay At the beginning of The Joys of Motherhood, Emecheta foreshadows that Nigerian society will change forever. He writes, “The Ibuza people…fought and won many civil battles against their hosts” (11). Similarly, Achebe repeatedly describes how Ibo culture is caught between the primitive and progressive worlds, but belongs to neither. Both novels question the motivations of not only the colonizers, but also the natives, who are not as dissimilar from their oppressors as they would perhaps like to believe. There is no romanticization of Nigeria's cultures in either Things Fall Apart or The Joys of Motherhood; instead, both authors express enormous courage in presenting the truth of their heritage, without choosing to simply show outsiders as corrupting influences. Things Fall Apart is primarily a story about an agricultural existence, taking the yam and its position as a cyclical crop so necessary for the survival of civilization as a symbol of masculinity. As Achebe writes, “Yam, the king of crops, [is] a very demanding king” (34). The metaphor expands from there, including the representation of women as a working model without which production would collapse. Women do the housework and raise the children, but they are never as important as the yam itself... or the man. In The Joys of Motherhood, however, the divergence between life in the small village and life in the city is more problematic. While the life left behind was certainly not perfect, social progress toward the sophistication of urbanity is no panacea. If the country can be seen as a link to the primordial past and the city represents progress, this novel seems to say that emasculation awaits men and commodification awaits women. This sad state of affairs is addressed by Nnu Ego when she despairs "that when her children grew up, the values ​​of her country, her people and her tribe would change so drastically, to the point that a woman with many children could face a lonely old age and perhaps a miserable death all alone" (219). Death, despair, and the loss of humanity seem to be inevitable parts of progress. The final message may be that there is no escape, but only a transformation from one set of problems to another. Nnu Ego's clash with the strangeness of life in Lagos manifests itself with the introduction of Adaku. Polygamy is nothing new to Nnu Ego. What is different in Lagos, however, is that women's value is no longer based on incalculable fertility, but has come down to the same economic means of production as everything else. The choice of language used by Nnaife could not be more concise and profound: "Didn't I pay your bride price? Am I not your owner?" (48) In Igbo society, polygamy was considered "natural" because all wives shared equally and, in theory, lived in harmony. In Lagos, however, the underlying dynamic has changed to reflect the competitive nature of that society. A younger wife is considered more valuable because.