There was the anticipation you felt as a child as you waited for Christmas morning. You had your Christmas cloth and shoes, you made your Christmas hair and on Christmas Eve you were up throwing 'bangers' in the streets.
The whole house smelt of chicken and food, you probably joined in the labour for the preparation.
For me, it was the endless hours spent cutting chin chin dough that signalled Christmas, for others, it was slaughtering chickens.
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I knew it was the Christmas season when in December we brought out a Christmas tree and decorated it from top to bottom, hung Christmas lights around the house and we had this golden frill banner that said ‘Merry Christmas and Happy New Year.’
In adulthood, as I spend Christmas with my parents, it still doesn't feel like Christmas, that Christmas - the one I remember as a child.
I think having little children around forces some sort of merriment on people, but with adulthood comes responsibility and taking stock of the progress in one's life.
Of course, I know it is Christmas, the date, harmattan, the decorations in other people’s houses and the street tells me that but no matter how many Christmas songs I play, it could as well be another day for me.
The reason why it doesn’t feel like Christmas has been staring at me all along. Christmas to an adult is different and there is no need to try to recreate a childhood memory.
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Attending concerts and end of the year parties is the new feeling of Christmas for me.
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