Christmas In A Box. Volume I.

The Essence Of Christmas - VeeNovels

Playlist: O' Holy Night(Home-Free), That's Christmas To Me(Pentatonix).

          _____________<>_____________

It's the most wonderful time of the year for ten-year-old Ihotu, a season of love and an endless joy. She always felt that at heart but not so much at sight, but this year she hoped that for once, she could experience both.

Ihotu walked inside the house with an oily black cellophane in her hand and headed straight to the kitchen, where she could hear a dull, persistent beat of what seemed like a wooden spoon against a plastic bowl.

Ene, Ihotu's mum, who sat on a small stool, stopped stirring the pap she had made for breakfast when she heard the footsteps of her daughter.

"You took too long," Ene said. "Pour them in a plate and take it to the living room," she added before Ihotu could tell her about the many customers that the woman who sold akara had, which caused her delay.

Ene joined Ihotu on the old sofa in their tight living room, holding two plastic cups of pap. She offered one to Ihotu and, after she said a short prayer of thanks, they started eating their breakfast.

Ihotu scrunched her face after filling her mouth with her first spoon of pap. The lumps reminded her of the pus her mum had one time squeezed out of her knee. It grossed her out and she hated it.

"What?" Ene barked. "Are you making that face again? Lumps or no lumps, it'll give you the same nutrient. So you better not waste it." She scolded, and Ihotu continued eating, forcing the thick, lumpy liquid down her throat while trying to keep a neutral expression so she doesn't offend her mum any further. Most times she wondered if her mum cooks with love, and why she gets too cranky at this time of the year.

"You can't be picky with food when we don't have enough, and then gossipers will start saying I starve you because of your weight." Ene grumbled while she ate. Indeed Ihotu looked below her age, so small and skinny. But at least her tiny frame didn't come with a round stomach that could have minds wondering if she suffered from kwashiorkor.

"Why are you covering your head with that cap? Don't you like the hairstyle?" Ene asked as she made to clear up the table after they were done eating, but Ihotu was still struggling to finish her pap.

"I don't want my Christmas hair to get old," Ihotu finally let words in through her mum's nonstop questions and rhetorics. The tips of Ihotu's tiny, three-steps cornrows which fell out of her red beanie were clad in colourful beads and rubber bands.

Ene chuckled, one that didn't come from her heart as she stood up with the dirty dishes. "You and Christmas." She muttered.

"Am I getting the bicycle you've been promising me for years this year?"

Ene stopped and turned around. "Ihotu, please... Your education is more important, and I'm sure you're not blind to see how hard I've been struggling. A bicycle can wait."

"But, Mummy, you promised me, and my classma-"

"Ihotu!" Ene cut her off in a harsh tone. "You're not a baby. And make sure you finish that pap and do the dishes." She gestured at Ihotu with the hand that held her empty cup, and then she stomped to the kitchen.

Ihotu subtly eyed her retreating back with a pouted-mouth frown.

Christmas preparations was a big deal in the small street of Mobi. It was more like a competition of who killed the biggest goat or who wore the best clothes for the season. But the same couldn't be said for Ihotu and her mum who made little to no preparations at all.

Their neighbor had more kids and elders and youths in their house than usual, and the extra vehicle that had been sitting outside their yard meant their relatives had come to spend the holiday with them. The children chased each other, the parents chatted heartily, the young men scrapped the whole, roasted Christmas goat and the elderlies sat tasting the meat the young women had cooking in their huge, three-legged pot. They hadn't just killed one goat for Christmas, but two.