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𝐴 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑙𝑦 𝑡𝒉𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝐶𝒉𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑚𝑎𝑠 𝑖𝑠 𝑡𝒉𝑎𝑡 𝑖𝑡’𝑠 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑢𝑙𝑠𝑜𝑟𝑦, 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑎 𝑡𝒉𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑚, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑤𝑒 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑔𝑜 𝑡𝒉𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑔𝒉 𝑖𝑡 𝑡𝑜𝑔𝑒𝑡𝒉𝑒𝑟. – 𝑮𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒐𝒏 𝑲𝒆𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒐𝒓.

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This time of the year was not in any way appealing to me. Christmas holidays, in my opinion, only meant gossiping relatives, loads of work, neighbourhood kids who never seemed to stay indoors, making noise with endless "Bangers" and firecrackers. (If I could, I'd tie them all up.) Worst of all, the period was characterized by Harmattan—only the most annoying season in this part of the world. The bonus was, that since my husband passed on and left three grown kids with three different mothers (none of which was me) in my care, I'd been unable to host a single successful Christmas dinner. This was the third year.

The girls, Khairi and Toyosi—aged nineteen and eighteen, respectively—had arrived early last night and almost immediately got into an argument over who watched what on the living room television. It'd taken fifteen minutes to convince them to watch whatever they wanted on the TVs in their rooms instead and I was certain that was only the beginning of what I referred to as "Christmas Dreads", the sequence of happenings that eventually led to the failure of my holiday plans.

Skip to this Christmas morning, I'd managed to get the girls to follow me to service without a fight, only to return to Adonis blasting and vibing to vulgar music which shook the entirety of the mansion and threatened to pull the walls in on themselves. Half an hour later, the twenty-one-year-old was drifting off in his father's vintage Aston Martin, promising to be back in time for dinner. My only prayer was that he neither crashed the car nor killed anybody. (Himself included.)

Now, I busied myself preparing a feast for the Christmas dinner while anticipating the arrival of my late husband's sisters; the "Dreads" personified. Three hours into cooking, I was done preparing pots of Jollof and Fried Rice and was in the middle of dipping the chicken wings into my beloved Buffalo Sauce, simultaneously deep-frying the balls of flour goodness known as "puff-puff". Toyosi had even come downstairs to assist me, removing the puff-puff from the boiling oil immediately after they reached a golden brown colour while she briefed me on her first year in university. Of course, I should've sensed by now that my luck was looking a bit too good to be true.

A moment later, the doorbell rang. I glanced at the kitchen wall clock which read 5:27 PM. Toyosi, on the other hand, went to get the door. As expected, they were here. Gripping the tile of the kitchen island, I took a few deep breaths to calm myself and maintain outward composure, even though my thoughts were in a rage, preparing for the worst. Just like it always happened.

"Toyosi!" I heard Dunni call in an exaggerated loud voice, in the process, drowning out what her younger sister was saying. "Ahn! My daughter! You've grown, oh."

Afterwards, she commented (in Yoruba) about how the young girl was filling out in all the right places. Her sister, Ayo, backed her up with talk of impending suitors for Toyosi and a fine young Engineer in Ibadan. I sighed, exiting the kitchen and coming face to face with Dunni in the dining, while Toyosi went upstairs to call her half-sister on the order of her aunties.

"Eru Ikole, ma." I greeted her with a little crouch. The dramatic woman pulled me into a tight hug immediately.

"Ehehnn!" came her voice, so loud I feared a headache. "As soon as I perceived the aroma from the door, I knew you were cooking up a storm." She laughed as her sister joined us. I greeted the fatter woman as well and released myself from her sister's hold, relieved by the distraction that was the arrival of a scowling Khairi, closely followed by Toyosi. The women bombarded them with questions and I took the opportunity as an avenue to escape back to the kitchen.

However, my escape plan was cut short when Ayọ called out to me.

"Danielle, oh! Please come, I even forgot." I walked over to the woman who was now rising to her feet and rummaging through her purse for something, stopping to pull out her phone. "I'm sending money to you. The driver is still outside, please go and pay him."

I started to protest, mentioning the food I had on fire and in the oven as well as the thousands of other things I had to get done before 7 PM. That seemed to be of no concern to her, as she insisted that I be the one to pay the driver, claiming she was there—along with her sister and the girls—to watch over what I had going on in the kitchen, and that it would only be a short dash out and back into the house.

I agreed grudgingly, going back to the kitchen to lower the heat under the pots on the stove, as well as grab my phone. On my way out, I reminded them to watch for the things on fire, then headed out of the compound to meet the driver. Of course, as soon as I met with him, I understood why she insisted I'd been the one to pay him. He wasn't accepting transfer payments. I was certain they already knew this. Sensing how stressed he probably already was after waiting for payment the whole while, I got into the car and pleaded we find somewhere I could withdraw, promising to top his original pay by a few thousand.

We spent the next thirty minutes looking for an open POS stall before he dropped me off at home, after we finally found one, and I paid in full.

I hadn't stepped into the compound when I saw someone who resembled Adonis walking in my direction. I had to blink repeatedly to confirm that it was, indeed, him, and much to my relief, he was back. The only issue was that he was walking, which was what I did not understand.

"Danielle," he approached me with a nervous smile. I didn't smile back and thankfully, that passed the message that he should spill all the details of the car's current whereabouts.

"Do you still have the car's documents?" he asked, cringing visibly. I shook my head in uncertainty, and he swore under his breath, running his hands over his face.

"I'm not sure where they are, but they should be somewhere in the office." I said and he calmed a bit, even though—towering at 6'2"—he avoided my direct gaze, looking directly over my head and started fidgeting like a nervous junior secondary student.

"What happened to the car, Adonis?" I had the nerve to ask. He seemed to stare at the floor for hours before he finally looked at me with worry etched on his face to speak.

"It got cfrmsndhhft."

I could swear, that was what I heard clearly from his mouth. I frowned up at him, obviously because I was confused. He frowned too, like he was taken aback. Neither of us said anything for that moment, and no sooner than later, did what he'd said actually register in my head.

"It got confiscated." Adonis's voice replayed in my head, and I widened my eyes and dropped my jaw in shock.

"It was confiscated? Did you bash the car? Did you kill anybody? Who took the car? Did they ask for money?" I rapped, firing several questions at once and not giving him a chance to reply. My ears were already getting hot from the fear and tension growing within me. The "Take A Deep Breath." written on his white graphic T-shirt seemed to me like water on a rock, because I tried— honestly, I did—to take a deep breath but all the muscles in my nostrils forgot how to work at that moment.

"It was confiscated by the FRSC," he started, his tone, level, even though I knew he was far from calm. "They didn't believe it belonged to my father. I managed to pay them off by locking me up, but they said if I want to retrieve the car, I have to return with the documents, including the purchase receipt."

I sighed, rubbing my temples, then asked, "How soon is this possible?" I seriously hoped I didn't have to go search for documents dated years back tonight. As much as I knew we needed to get the car back as soon as possible, I couldn't afford it to be tonight or tomorrow morning. I had tons of other things to do. Immediately, I remembered I was cooking and we were still standing in front of the gate, and the sky was already beginning to bleed orange rays over the horizon.

"They said they're closed for the year, so after the holidays," he replied as we walked into the compound and I shook my head. They're closed, but they were on duty to confiscate a car they claimed to believe was stolen, and then let the "thief" walk free. Nigerian systems never failed to disappoint me.

The first thing that I noticed when we approached the house was that all the windows were open. This was very odd, considering the ACs were running 24/7. I froze on my spot when it dawned on me why the windows were open. It felt like someone had poured ice water down my back, sending my nerves into overdrive and ceasing my breath momentarily.

My food.

I rushed straight into the house and into the kitchen, where Toyosi was clearing the nonstick pan I'd used to dip the wings, which I'd left simmering on low heat, Dunni was at the open back door, coughing dramatically and waving the cloud of smoke outside, and Ayọ was at the island sink, trying to separate the oil that'd been in a pan. A pan which had contained puff-puff left on the heat.

I almost lost my mind. I felt my left eye twitch, the way they all turned to me with matching looks of horror on their faces, freezing like they were kids caught stealing meat from a pot of stew. That was an instance I'd have preferred, one hundred percent.

Someone started talking. Maybe all three of them at the same time. I couldn't hear a single thing, while I made my way into the kitchen. I looked around for my buffalo wings but found none. My wings had burned to crisps. The bowl of batter for the puff-puff sat on the island, untouched, while the sterling colander next to it containing the done fried balls had experienced no change, whatsoever. There was neither an increase nor a decrease in the content, meaning they hadn't remembered to check the things on fire until a few minutes ago. They could've let the house get set on fire.

I held my breath, standing right next to the counter, while their voices still droned in the background. Adonis came into the kitchen next, saying something I didn't hear either. He moved over to the island, snaking his hand behind the bowl of batter to grab his cold cup I hadn't even noticed was there. The hairs on my body stood on full alert at his action, as though warning me of impending danger.

I realized only a little too late, why. It happened so fast. His hand which skillfully circled the bowl to avoid contact, drew back with full force at a clumsy angle, sending the bowl, as well as the colander, off the marble counter and onto the white tiles of the kitchen floor.

I had no time to process what had just happened, because Khairi came in the next moment, yelling at the top of her voice at her younger sister, about God-knows-what, this time and soon, the entire kitchen was a yelling, noisy madness.

"Enough!" My own voice sounded distant to my ears, when I finally spoke up, looking at each one of them like they were monsters and not my family members. The anger bubbling up in me led to the repeated action of clenching and unclenching of my fists while breathing slowly. Tears stung at my eyes and threatened to fall, and I felt my bottom lip begin to shake.

"I work my ass off, every year," I took a moment to look around, grateful no one tried to interrupt me, then continued, "to organize these awful holiday dinners. Just because I know this is what my husband would've liked, had he been here with us."

I blinked furiously, letting a tear slide down my face.

"You guys are the ones to keep your family together, but all you do is start fights." I turned to Khairi and Toyosi, then Adonis. "And you? You're your father's first son! When will you get that into your head and take responsibility for once? You spent the whole day out, only to return without the car! Oh, I'm the one to always clean up after you?"

Dunni and Ayọ weren't spared either.

"And all you two do is talk. Morning, till night. All I need is peace and quiet, but you two drive me crazy with your loud voices!

I'm sick of it. I'm sick of this, too." I pushed an empty bowl into the sink. "If you guys are hungry, there's rice in the pots. Goodnight."

With that, I stormed off to my room, not glancing back for their expressions or reactions, and while I was pained none of them muttered a word of remorse after my rant, I was relieved nobody said a word to me. I could've completely lost my cool, and I'd have regretted that.

I didn't know how long I lay in bed forcing my eyes shut in a bid to sleep as well as stop the tears which were rushing from my eyes unto the pillow, but by the time I heard a gentle knock on my door, I was no longer angry. I just felt a lightheaded kind of numbness, followed by hunger.

"Come in," I made myself as audible as I could be, and then the door opened slightly and in came Khairi's head first, then her body. She stood awkwardly by the door in a pink nightdress, then walked slowly towards me. "Do you need something?"

"I'm sorry for being a brat, Aunt Danielle," she said while playing with her fingers, looking everywhere but at me. "I'm not sure how to do this, but there's something I think you should see downstairs."

I followed her without a second thought, fearing that they'd broken the TV or maybe an antique vase. On getting downstairs, I was hit with the biggest shock of my life. Christmas medleys were playing softly from the living room stereo, and there was a silence in the room, safe for the blasting of ACs and the clinking of ceramics against glass which came from the dining area.

Seated there were Dunni and Ayọ, speaking so softly I couldn't hear what they were saying, while Toyosi set the table and her brother opened the wine and poured it into the six arranged glasses on the table. I was almost convinced I'd been transported to a parallel universe.

I walked closer to them, wrapping my arms around my body.

"You're here," Adonis said when he saw me. "We were wondering if you'd like to join us for dinner. We couldn't replace the Wings, but we got Chicken Nuggets, and Aunty Dunni ordered a cake."

It was only then I noticed the cake sitting pretty in the middle of the table. I smiled in disbelief.

"I'm sorry for behaving badly—"

"We're sorry for behaving badly and constantly throwing all your efforts down the drain." Khairi cut in gently, moving to stand next to her sister. "Please, have dinner with us."

I nodded with a smile and took a seat, after which Ayọ opened the dinner with a short prayer. As I sat there and watched while they chatted quietly away about everything during dinner, constantly including me by asking for my opinion on matters, I smiled, imagining my husband sitting right next to me with a matching smile on his face.

In the three years since his passing, this was the first time I'd seen his children work together, and it made me happier knowing why they'd worked together this time around.

We moved to the living room after dinner to watch DreamWorks' Rise of The Guardians. I relaxed contentedly, knowing this was what Christmas was supposed to feel like. I could see myself looking forward to more of this. Maybe there was something pleasant about the holiday after all.

© Olive .K. Onwuchekwa.

_oleev_