This Christmas Fever..

Wednesday, December 23, 2015


Chickens.  

Chickens being haggled over. Being carried helter skelter. Being killed...no! slaughtered..or murdered. Flayed. Dipped in blazing oil...

Their goaty counterparts..roasted..diced..barbecued…shredded..

Lady Cow. Ah! Her tail...plenty, plenty peppered waters shall she swim in, in the days to come.

Children…running helter skelter. Shivering in excitement.
Julaftonen by Carl Larsson 1904 edit.jpg
Credits: www.wikipedia.com

Parents screaming in welcomed frustrations. “Sit down here!”. “Don’t go there!!”. (Yes, I made her hair myself”).

Aunties and Uncles ... eagerly wait to be gifted with wrappers and shirts.

Adolescents. Rejoicing silently in the free-falling naira notes. Knowing that Big Brother's Euros will rake in more naira than it did last year.

Children...sweet children. (And the not so sweet children). Longing for those bars of chocolates...or plates of rice ... or hand me downs from the 'rich' cousins coming in from across the Niger.

Offices everywhere ... comatose. "We have closed for the year" is the new greeting. The very effective ones that still pretend to be open gift you with a constant "S/he's not on seat".

Don't bother.

Employees ... tossing the doom of the lingering fuel scarcity aside...to be momentarily overtaken by the 'busyness' of the holidays.

Lights, lights...everywhere. Bright lights. Dim lights. Dancing lights. Singing lights. Traffic lights. Electric Lights. ‘Batteried’ lights.

Even the weather feels tremors of excitement, which it oozes in its cool doses throughout the day, especially at night.

Even the sun seems to have lost some of its hot, hot temper.

The exhilaration is fever-pitch. Just two more days to go!

Christmas fever everywhere.

I almost missed it. I almost did not catch this fever.

Serendipitous events turned near nightmarish. That cute shooting cherub's playground...almost dissolved into weeny-bitsy smithereens.

But...

The fever. I feel it...small. Creeping in on me.

Slowly. Quietly. Creepily. Almost eerily. Sipping silently into my veins. Almost reminiscent of  "Nightfall in Soweto"... albeit evoking opposite emotions in me.

The edges of my mouth beginning to crink upwards a little bit more… all moping near abandoned.

It's irresistable. Undeniable. Indestructable. Non-fathomable. This fever. This season. The Magic.

Barely 48 hours to go. And I know that by this time tomorrow, its cloak would have completely engulfed me.

I will not resist.


Merry Christmas.

Love,

Meg.

  • Share:

You Might Also Like

2 comments