Congratulations to all my readers, who marked yesterday, Christmas Day 2021, and are set to share the joy today by sending out boxes of love, happiness and other gifts, including airtime and data. Yes, today is Boxing Day, but it is not for punching anybody like the feisty Mike Tyson of old. Instead, be a gentleman like Nigeria’s Anthony Joshua. That the Almighty God kept you to be part of this year’s Yuletide is cause celebre! So, celebrate, soberly.

The festivity of the birth of our Saviour Jesus Christ remains the biggest event in the history of mankind. It is a one-time opportunity that brings all together, to felicitate, celebrate and usher in the New Year.

The Yuletide is a stretched out celebration that starts on Christmas Day and runs up to New Year. It is a known fact that our compatriots from the Southeast, usually who pour out from their various ‘diaspora’   locations in Nigeria and travel home for Christmas. The annual mass return has somewhat become sacrosanct. In several eastern communities, the age long festivity has been extended with observance of community or village market days that fall immediately after Boxing Day. The additional day for celebration of Christmas is considered sacrosanct. In fact in some communities, the celebration of the market day ‘Christmas’ tends to boom more than December 25 as the merry-making moves in wave-like motion from community ot village to the next according to the market days. During the extended festive period, several communities have been known to burials, no matter whose ox is gored. The period is simply considered set aside for rest, celebration and entertainment. Even when bad news breaks, it is discussed in hush-hush tones.

While growing up as children whose parents were both teachers, I recall that we were spared the rod and spoilt for once during the Christmas season. I recall my father telling my brothers: “You are lucky because it is Christmas passé.”  I remember Christmas with so much nostalgia and at times wish the hand of the clock could turn back, so we could enjoy the free-minded Christ-like Christmas we were used to. It was such an expectant time in families especially for the children because one must compulsorily get at least three brand new clothes, shoes, accessories and other goodies to mark the season.

How does one identify the season? You know when that hazy, fair cold-breezy dry weather hits the town, when the rosy pink flowers arrest your attention and overtake some parts of the homestead, when there is a general outbreak of cough, sneezing and sore-throat, all arising from the misty dry weather, when washed clothes dry within minutes, when fresh injuries heal within days, when people run away from cold environments like fan and air-conditioners because it is cold already, when unseen dust levels all and lace the entire busy roads, cities, homes, offices with red-sandy dust, then one knows Christmas is at the corner. When various carols and different competitions take place, when the markets become very busy with the hustle and bustle of shopping and shoppers milling round for both window and real shopping, when gifts exchange hands especially bags of rice and groundnut oil, they are obvious signs of the yuletide. It is a season when the price of all goods and services experience increase in prices because it is termed to be business strategy. Christmas attracts serious preparations, special budget and execution.

Again, the cost of transportation skyrockets, dressmakers and hairdressers never go to bed as they work round the clock to satisfy their clients. At times, these artisans fall out with their clients either for poor performance or non-compliance. I cannot forget a certain year that Christmas within the household of my extended families turned into a near-mourning situation. What happened, you ask?

Related News

Back then Mama Olujie-Igbo, a seamstress was the local champion who dealt most of the tailoring needs in the community. She could sew very ugly and unfitted clothes then. She was expert in amending boys ripped school uniforms by the buttocks; after several colourful thick-padded white lines on a blue khaki, you would be left with no choice but to respect Mama Olujie-Igbo.  There was one case that has remained inscribed on my mind. It was the day Mama Olujie-Igbo destroyed the Christmas joy of my cousins, Christiana and Kelechi Christmas in the early 80’s. Their mother had sent them to Mama with their fabric and a token to quicken the process. Tailor and customer agreed on the terms of the contract. On the said Christmas morning, while others were getting ready for the shindig at the market square and to watch the masquerade, catch up on activities for later days story; my cousins ran as fast as they could to collect their clothes only to discover that Mama had not even cut the yards of fabric, not to talk of putting them together as clothes because she could not cope with the pressure, demand and supply. Hell was let loose, my cousins wailed profusely from Mama Olujie’s residence, and walked slowly all the way home as the seamstress’s failure to make their dresses had taken excitement out the yuletide. The disappointment was the reason Christiana never forgave her she died in her 90s. For my cousins, Christmas was not celebrated that year. You could cut their pain with a knife. They were shattered, heartbroken and never enjoyed that day. All the substitutes could not soothe the pain of the young girls.

In the same vein, while there were loud cries from the opposite compound because Nda Ngozi, an amateur hairdresser had dealt with them over there. The decibel of the cry would have made someone think there was sudden death as the families were being consoled. This was at a time we all thought that perming of the hair gave a stunning look until that belief was demystified by African women. Three of my people who were in Christmas mood were hijacked by unprofessional Nda Ngozi, who returned from Onitsha to set up a makeshift hairdressing salon.  She had washed their hair before applying a fake relaxer to their mini-grown virgin hair. By the morning of Christmas, the faces of girls had swollen as if they were beaten by armed robbers. The bumps on their heads were already dripping unsightly jelly-like liquid substance. All mothers in the compound proffered various suggestions. At last Vaseline, a brand of petroleum jelly, and shea butter were applied to the hair. My people could not stand under the sun like others to enjoy Christmas because the scorching sun would have done further damage. Christmas was eventually spent in doors as they peeped at others who painted the town red.

Can I forget the brothers of my friend, Carol, who fought at the market square over a pair of ‘Sir Peters’ shoes on Christmas day? James and John were twin brothers who wrote WAEC that year. While James was an extrovert, John was an introvert. James had made noise with his much-expected ‘Sir Peters’ shoes from the brand of ‘Italian Mauri because he had fixed himself to a clothing store.’ He polished his Mauri shoes, left them in under the sun for additional touch while bathing and getting ready to showcase his shoes. Before he realized himself, his reticent twin brother wore the Mauri shoe and went out. Looking through the window, James saw that his prized shoes had disappeared from where he left them. He searched and couldn’t find his brother until the evening. As Christmas Day festivity was winding down, James sighted his twin brother in the field. James ran after him and a serious fight ensued between them. People wondered why the twins were at loggerhead, not knowing it was over a pair of ‘Sir Peter’s Italian Christmas shoes.

Now, apart from the fun and fond memories of Christmas, what then should do we do as human beings who are celebrating the birth of the Saviour? Over the years lessons and teachings of life have shown that it is not how long one lives on earth to celebrate Christmas, but the impact, value and lives one has touched during the celebration. While celebrating the yuletide, I ask: “Who have you touched in this season? How many orphanages did you visit in the spirit of Christmas? Have you remembered the less privileged, widows and the sick in our midst? What about other people with various challenges or have religious leaders commanded all gifts to come to their own table? No one should give the excuse, ‘I do not have.’ It is not acceptable, because giving comes from the heart. There are items as low as a box of matches, pack of salt, tissue paper, toothpick, a gift to express joy for the season; they are all worthy gifts items. Receivers, therefor, must learn to appreciate whatever comes their way as gifts no matter how low, instead of evaluating them based on price.

Interestingly, one of the respectable acts of Christmas is not only about giving, but a time to take stock of our lives, be steadfast and upright in our various dealings with people. Do not purposely perpetrate evil, spread hatred and gossip. That is not the Christmas spirit. I wish you all Merry Christmas and Happy New Year.