By: Israel Umoh
How time like rainwater rolls on a dizzying hillside into a river and is easily flushed away. Down the lane, November every year was a harvest season for most of us in the villages in some parts of the Niger Delta region. By then, freezing harmattan that scorched evergreen leaves and peeled off the human bodies had skulked in. Once luscious lips and rotund faces looked like parched papers. Well-sculptured legs and hands were dehydrated beyond human description. Only pomade, Vaseline and palm oil restored wrinkled portions.
On the harvest day, our father drafted everybody to the farm. On the farm, our father mounted a bowl of firewood. He selected some appetising yams and roasted them on the make-shift kiln. Our mother brought a bowl-shaped earthen pot with drooling palm oil. We dipped roasted yams and munched greedily. And we carted home the beefy ones, neatly packed them in a bamboo-constructed balcony devoid of any environmental or domestic hazard for the next planting season.
As a child, a Christmas season was a unique time. During the Yuletide, my late mother scrubbed the mounds in the kitchen with pumpkin leaves. She entered the bush, hewed firewood and bundled them home. Armed with a bucket and locally made rope, she trekked to a water-point located three kilometres from our house, drew water from locally dug well into a waiting pot and carried it on her head home. In the house, she pulled out all the household utensils, washed and dried them preparatory for Christmas and New Year celebrations.
Later, our father and mother visited their inlaws and doled out accoutrement of gifts. In reciprocation, the in-laws gave them melon-garnished delicacy with other gifts. Moreover, our parents gave up some yams to their neighbours, friends, relations and visitors. The sleepy village was abuzz with conventions and end-of-year concerts in different churches.
For members of ekpo traditional play, they evinced a norm for themselves. They met in the village square. Out of trust, they put a big earthen pot filled with palm wine. Their members visited the square, dished the drink and did justice to themselves. Nobody protected the pot. The pot with a cup remained there and they daily visited, drummed and gyrated together. When the wine was about to finish, they filled it and the merriment unabashedly continued. No discrimination! No fear! No poison of the unprotected wine! Consanguinity was the watchword. All was for the season. One paramount thing was that they gave their hearts to their belief and evil was not in their bible. That was a typical African milieu.
But those were the reminiscences of Christmas. Today, the story is yarned differently. Such harvest season for an urbane fellow is a mirage. Biting harmattan particularly in Uyo, the Akwa Ibom capital is fading away. The ruralness in most of our communities borne out of innocence and sincerity of purpose and genuine hearts has been eroded by modern-day civilization and fake Christianity. From politics, business to ecclesiastical circles, Christmas and christmas (creation of the writer) are obverse of a coin.
Ideally, Christmas is a period set aside for the commemoration of the birth of Jesus Christ exemplified in love, salvation, peace, and justice to man, but christmas symbolises selfishness, injustice, wickedness, unforgiveness and exploitation to fellow human beings. In this season, a politician invites his supporters and doles out bags of rice, drinks and money for them in the hope garnering their votes during the electioneering period. Yet, their opponents and the less influential are disdained.
It is not uncommon for a political leader or a governor or a commissioner or a local government chairman or any elected representative to sit in front of a television set to roll out his purported life-transforming projects and empty promises for the year. He forgets love as the essence of the carnation of Jesus Christ. Provoked, he will readily invoke the gods- Amadioha, Itina, Etefia or Awaitam – to kill his enemies. Who are the enemies (people who oppose his maladministration)?
Yet, the same political leader is undertaking failed roads project, does not pay gratuity and pension arrears to retirees who die in droves, does not offer scholarships or pay bursary award to students particularly the indigent ones in his state, secretly employs people from his clan into the state civil service without any qualm, enthrones tribalism in his administration and in his deeds, does not forgive people who directly ‘insult’ him or offer contrary opinions denies civil servants their entitlements and impoverishes his citizen, among others. He only mouths the extension of the hand of fellowship to his political opponents. Yet, his heart is far from God and from humanity. This is not his Christmas but his christmas.
Some politicians have not forgotten their pull-him-down syndrome. They have not forgotten blackmails, gossips, slander, hatred, and persecution. Yes, they cannot forget election riggings and vote-buying. But on Christmas day, they like white sepulcher will go to churches to conceal their rotten habits, character, and behaviours. Their followers will sing their praises to high heavens, make regular telephone calls and visit the houses of the highly placed people who can butter their bread. Yet, when their masters fall out of power, they are recklessly abandoned like a cemetery. This is their christmas.
In this period, some people will sacrifice to their gods, others exchange the stars of their fellow beings to become famous while a few visit the motherless and orphanage homes with television and radio reporters to publicise their philanthropic gestures. Other persons organise fund-raising ceremonies to raise money for their private businesses (not the purported development projects). Many untoward things are done this period in the name of marking Christmas.
Unhealthy rivalry among fashionistas and other persons. New dresses, new shoes, and new head-ties gain currency. Foods and drinks form a topical agenda in different families. Even the poor struggle to cook a cup of rice or borrow old wrapper to wear to church on Christmas or New Year day to thank God. The poor even manage to groom up chickens to slaughter them to munch with plates of rice or cocoyam this season. The parlance ‘if you can’t beat them, join them’ holds sway as people jog to the altar of celebration in disguise irrespective of their unsmiling but unfriendly pockets. Like old wine in a new container, new wears clothe old habits.
In business, some business people outsmart their competitors and short change their customers to make huge profits. On Christmas day, they dress flamboyantly, drive SUV car to the church. There, they arrogantly flaunt their wealth and dance crazily to the admiration of their pastor and fellow worshippers just for people to applaud. Their barns are filled with assorted foodstuffs, but their neighbours and perhaps relations are languishing in crushing poverty. The Robin Hoods- robbers, kidnappers, and ritual killers- rivet their attention on their prey to extort money to celebrate their christmas not Christmas.
From the ecclesiastical circle, it is time to organise end-of-year conventions, vigil, Christmas carols and other programmes to rake in money for their self-aggrandised projects. Some will perform calisthenics to compel members to churn out money. Others will speak “The Lord says” while it is not so but their voice. Few will file divorce notices, leading to a broken marriage. Immorality and other social vices thrive in the name of christmas, not Christmas.
For ‘off-shore churches,’ all tithes and offerings must be remitted to the international headquarters. People from their clans are sent to pastor others and make daily returns to the coffers of General Overseers or churches. Lawyers from the headquarters are sent to write land agreements for churches located in states other than theirs and the agreements are taken to safes in the headquarters. Even most General overseers are busy plotting for the take-over of their churches by their next-of-kin- their children- in event of their demise. Did Jesus Christ hand over his church to his relation or write an agreement for landed property in the name of founders-board-of-directors’ members? Yet, on Christmas day, they preach love, peace and justice, but they practise the reverse.
As 2019 gradually rolls into the oven of history, let the government, people and churches open their arms and hearts to reflect the essence of the season and to practise the dictates of true Christianity instead of wallowing in ego-trip celebration. Celebrating in a manner akin to taking aphrodisiac makes the inhaler high and returns him to zero levels after some time. Of course, our society is worse for it.
Making Christmas a way of life in pleasing God and rendering altruistic services to mankind is better than using it as an avenue for self-enrichment and pleasure trips.
