My name is Christmas. Merry me. I am known and respected the world over. I don’t mean to blow my own whistle but prrrrrrrrrrrr! I am the greatest thing that ever happened to every family on this planet. Imagine what life would be without me. No, matter of fact, don’t imagine. You’ll just start crying.
I write to you coz I’m not happy with the way Ugandans celebrate me. It’s like they don’t get my significance. First, it doesn’t snow here. But after thousands of years of wishing and waiting for a change, any right thinking public holiday would give up. So I’m now at peace with that.
Then you enter a home and find them using cotton and toilet paper to decorate Christmas trees that they stole from their neighbour’s compound the previous night. You how would you feel if they used toilet paper for your makeup? And then they incessantly listen to the same Boney M album from years ago on tapes that they rewind using pens.
Come on! I know I’m 2010 years old but I’m just a teenager who constantly craves new music. And stop spelling my name with an X. Unless you want me to just pack my bags and go back to the village.
PS: Call him Santa Claus. Not Father Christmas. He’s not my dad.