The year is 2002. And Christmas is here with us already. The goat is hanging upside down on that tree outside the house all naked. Not that Kameri (the goat) has decided to play bat, but uncle Mwaura decided to strip Kameri and hand him up by his legs after slitting his throat. I had asked had cried when granny told me Kameri will be grilled on 25th since he was awesome company whenever I was around but she told me Kameri was destined to die. I do not get why they had to be so ruthless to the only animal that I could chase around grandpas compound without granny getting pissed at me. But mum later told me that we will be having Kameri as a meal later on when dad, uncle mwaura and other uncles work on him. She knew I had an extraordinary liking for roast meat.
Inside shosho’s smoky kitchen, granny is kneading some dough to prepare chapatis. Aunt Mary is busy chopping onions for stew and my cousin Carol is slicing up beef. Someone calls out for mum asking her to go lend a hand in the kitchen. But mama has to dress Nicky first.
Yes.
I have to don my Christmas clothes. That brand new 005 jeans suit straight outta Eastleigh and the snow white Reebok sneakers.
So I am dressed hurriedly. But that’s after having a shower behind the house in full view of my cousins and everyone else who happened to pass that way. Mama always insists that bathrooms are for grownups despite my repeated repudiation to take a shower in the open. Last time I told her I don’t like it because I feel like Meni (the family cow) in a cattle dip, and she laughed till her eyes got teary. Then she told my cousins about it. That’s how I got a nickname.
Anyway, I eventually walk out of that house bouncing. Like a boss. Then I pause just outside the door, remember I have forgotten my shades on mum’s dressing table so I rush back to fetch them. I will need them to show off. My upcountry cousins must see me in full regalia. I know they all have new clothes but none of them can rival my sharpness. I mean, I’m the cousin who came to visit from Nairobi. No one is allowed to outshine me!
Later on we will have the family gathering before daddy and his cousins as well as friends gather at the farthest end of the corner, to empty the “soda” for grownups that comes in brown bottles.
Fast forward.
25th December 2015
I wake up at 10am with a heavy head. Okay. Two of them. But the one with a brain hurts as hell. I can barely recall what happened last night. Then I reach out for my phone. I’m glad it got home safe and sound. 11 missed calls. 6 from mum, 2 from dad and the rest from those idiots we were with yesternigt. I call mum back only for her to remind me that it’s Christmas day. Oh snap! I forgot. I was to take Levi out. But from the look of things, the only place i’ll be going today is outside my bedroom. To the loo. Wait. That kid might never forgive me if I do not fulfil my promise. So I will just have to drag my hangovered self to the mall I had promised to take him.
Then I log on to Facebook. My newsfeed reeks of Christmas absurdity. Bloody fools. Who are you wishing a merry Christmas on Facebook? Get off that phone. Get off that PC and go make someone’s Christmas merry. But I know half of these idiots will spend the day nursing hangovers like just like yours truly. Too wasted to even make their own Christmas merry. So I just log off to read my WhatsApp texts.
I block a few chumps who have forwarded me Christmas messages from last year. This whole message thing is a load of bull.
Finally I get out of bed, take a shower and rush to pick up the kid before he starts cursing me in baby language.
But alas, he is not even prepared. I find him sitting on the floor. Still in pyjamas.
“Nini mbaya levi? Kwani hutaki kwenda na uncle raundi mwenda?” (What’s wrong Levi? You don’t want to hang out with uncle?)
He looks at me. Smiles then picks something from the floor. It’s a gaming controller.
“Shosho aliniletea PS. Sitaki kwenda kutembea. Nataka kucheza FIFA” (Granny got me the PlayStation. I don’t want to go out. I just want to play FIFA)
I sigh! These kids of today! They’d rather sit their butts down and stare at screens.
If only he knew how much fun there is outside these four walls.
I wish I’d take him back to the days Christmas was Christmas, though I’m glad I won’t have to walk in the sun with this headache.
Truth be told, today doesn’t feel like Christmas. I miss Christmas.