His mates mocked him. Those who didn't out of spite did it as an encouragement or push. They wanted him to claim the women, to tell them tales of his war on bed. They wanted him to describe more the softness of the oranges Acha hid, with much difficulty but he was not a story teller. They checked their words, lest he threw them down.
Soon he stopped taking wine with his age group. He didn't mind too much, wine was not one of his vices. He could not boast of one male friend, maybe Utundu, maybe. But Utundu did not give him three cowries when he was ill. He did not come to his house when a Snake had beaten him. Ugomma swore that she told him.