OUR AFRICAN CHRISTMAS

OUR AFRICAN

We have no Santa Clause that goes hohoho
Climbing down chimneys to sneak in presents
We have big uncles and aunts
Coming from the city
Hands full with goodies
For our eager bellies

If Chickens could cry
Their songs will fill the air on our Christmas morns
As their necks are slit
Sacrificed for feasting
Offered on the altar of green rice
A delicacy we hope to enjoy
Once in a three hundred and sixty five days

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We don’t have the soft morning snow
That paints the town white
What do we have?
The chill harmattanic morning
The sweet scorching sun of the Noonday

Pajamas and stockings?
Curl up in bed with a warm mug of chocolate?
No! We wear our years best
Trekking through the town
Knocking on doors
Our own trick or treat, food or cash

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Only on Christmas
Our breakfast lasts for the whole day
Not at one table
But as many tables willing to have us

We don’t spend our nights opening presents
For where’s the santa such to present?
We spend our nights running around
With our bellies filled all round
Dancing around the streets
Enjoying the thrill of knockouts

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Then we go to bed
Dreaming in anxiety
As our young hearts cannot wait
For another year of the Christmas bliss

And even in my dreams
Over and over again
I will choose the African Christmas of my childhood.

© E.T.DOLOR 2020
Dolar Erhuvwu Trust