Recollections of Christmas Traditions

Christmas is here already and as usual, it's colored with excitement and enthusiasm. Depending on the kind of family you were raised in, some pictures and memories automatically flow through your mind when you think of Christmas. One of the most noticeable heralders of the season for me, are the carols …

 “I’m dreaming of a white Christmas…”

I’ve always loved that song despite the abstractness of the snowy day from a Nigerian perspective. It’s laced with nostalgia and urgency in a melodious mix that is an embodiment of all that is the Christmas tradition. 

“…just like the ones I used to know”

I’ve loved Christmas since I can remember. Even though I didn't grow up in a family given to traditions, some things rubbed off from the society at large, and over the years, those things, though borrowed, became a sort of tradition to me. I’m not sure which elements stand out the most from my childhood and have traveled with me through the years. Maybe it’s the lights and other decorations that transform our streets from mundane to mesmeric pictures from our favorite fairy tales. Perhaps it’s the sweet melodies of carols drifting dreamily out some windows and in others. With my mind's eyes I see grainy mental pictures of a musically gifted relative  lovingly fingering a piano so that missed notes here and there are forgiven as a medley of carols are sang at the top of our voices and fill our hearts with such a sense of peace and joy that worries and other heartaches seem to pause for a week or so. Could it be the trees that come out just in time to herald the historic birth of our King?  Or the gifts stashed away under the tree which were ALWAYS highlights of the season. Even though receiving gifts that we had day-dreamed and drooled over all year round was great, the small things like sweets and cookies were heartily received because somehow, even the youngest of us knew that the value of the gift was not itself but in its being given and that we were lovingly remembered at Christmas. 

Maybe it is in the recollection of the temporal burying of hatchets and other misgivings between neighbors and the portal of goodwill that opens in the week of Christmas to allow for the free flow of drinks and food from household to household. Did your neighbors send their children over to yours with ceramic or metal dishes brimming with Jollof Rice crowned with choice pieces of thoroughly fried Chicken or Beef, till your family had a dining room filled with an assortment of meals from different homes and motivated by varying intentions? Despite this, by some unspoken rule, the one meal that everyone awaited with giddy excitement was mother's very own food. The recollection of the taste of my mother’s special Christmas Jollof Rice and Fried Chicken is so strong I almost call out to ask if food is ready. It wasn’t that we didn’t have Jollof Rice on other days, it’s just that for some inexplicable reason, Christmas Jollof always seems different to my tastebuds.

The Carol services and dramatizations of the Christmas story cannot be forgotten or left out when pictures of Christmas traditions are painted. This year, honoring the circle of life, I watched my kids first performance in a Christmas concert, and was fondly reminded of all the times past when I stood in their positions singing of the wonders of Christmas at the top of my voice.

For some families, the holiday was not complete without the huddled family meetings to resolve protracted intra-family feuds. As tempers and voices flared and subsided in unfathomable rythmes, one was never able to clearly decipher what the arguments were centered around if you were not invited into the fold. But everyone knows that Christmas is a time to be with family and no misunderstanding was worth denying one's self the joy of loving and being loved by the people who know you as best as any human can. Even city dwellers somehow find a way to get away from their ball and chains lives, sneak back home (wherever home may be), and crawl into their mothers’ arms and under their wrappers for a recharge of their emotional batteries because who really knew what punches the new year would pack?

For me Christmas is a kaleidoscope that neatly brings together these fragmented practices which when alone are never quite significant or explainable, but which when fused together within the season bring the greatest cheer to our hearts and remind us of all that is true and the source of the world’s one shot and peace, for all times. Whilst still holding on to traditions and family cultures created around Christmas, we want to ask that we all take some time to remember the most important part of Christmas; and the real reason we celebrate Christmas at all. We celebrate Christmas because of the birth of Jesus. We celebrate His gift of promise amid despair and hopelessness. Like a number of people today, there must have been tons of questions echoing in people’s minds 2000 odd years ago. Then Jesus came, a single answer to a million questions ranging from the economy to matters of the heart.

What’s amazing is Nigeria is at one of those turning points littered with questions and groans. It’s the perfect time to celebrate Christmas. It’s the perfect time to open our hearts and lives anew to the hope that Jesus’ birth ushered into the world. The birth that whispered in the dead of night “It is well!”