*Singing loudly*
It's the most wonderful time of the yeear!
Merry Christmas in advance guys!
So I've been perceiving Christmas in the air since the 1st of December, or maybe it's just the harmattan air...either ways, the air brings some feelings of nostalgia along with it; nostalgic feelings of Christmases past.
Christmas was always an interesting period for me as a child, the house was always filled with family and I absolutely loved having a full house.
Did anybody else wonder how Santa Clause was going to deliver gifts to their house since Nigerian houses are built without chimneys? Nobody? Just me? Okay oh! Well, I am not ashamed to say I always expected to see Christmas gifts under the Christmas tree from Santa as a child. *sigh*. Read my letter to Santa from last year HERE
As we grow older, we know there are certain things age and self respect won't allow us do, for example shooting knock outs, popularly called "banger". In this our old age it is not exactly appealing, so one has to rely on those good old childhood Christmas memories.
I decided to collaborate with a dear friend of mine, Amerigo Bonasera (who blogs HERE by the way) on this post. He's going to be sharing his childhood memories with us in his ever dramatic way, read it below.
*GBOOM!!!!*
I immediately tense and hopefully wait for the next bang. One bang could mean trouble (gunshot). But two or three successive bangs means Christmas!
*KABOOM!!*
I smile gratefully and revel in the sounds of bangers thrown by my neighbor's kids. With each reverberating blow, I get thrown further back into time. Into a time when I had little worries. Into a time when my biggest problems was selecting which new shoe to use for the 25th and which to use exactly one week later for new year service. A time of dust, vaseline and dry skins. A time of parched throats and torn lips.
Albeit they be discomforting (especially the freezing morning baths), we still welcomed them anyways.
People usually say Christmas is all about Jesus. Well, good for them! Growing up, Christmas was the only time I got to eat at least 328364283473 pieces of meat.
I remember the built up anticipation from December 1st. At the beginning of the month, it starts with the drastic change in weather. The dry throats, cold mornings and cold sweats. Oh, also washing clothes and having them dried in twenty minutes. Okay let me not exaggerate. It was actually twenty one minutes.
I also remember the carols. We would practice every break time at school and finally display drama and carols. I've practically acted all the roles except for the grazing sheep. I wanted to act Jesus, but for my size, there was not enough time for Mary to gym.
Then there was the church 9 lessons and carols. Then a couple of days to 25th, the house gets full. Waking up on Christmas morning was the holy grail. No work to do. It's a full house! I start to steal chicken and wash them down with a long list of soft drinks. Oh, lest I not forget my bangers.
A few minutes to 1 am, mumsy would open this large box and we the kids would line up and in turn, try out our Christmas clothes. They were always several sizes too big.
When I was twelve, mumsy got me this complete set of jean jacket and pants. It was waaay too big but I was a boss anyway. Guess what?! That jacket saved me a lot of cold night classes in the University.
