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‘𝑌𝑒𝑠,’ 𝑠𝑎𝑖𝑑 𝑄𝑢𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝐿𝑢𝑐𝑦. ‘𝐼𝑛 𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑙𝑑 𝑡𝑜𝑜, 𝑎 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑒 𝑜𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝒉𝑎𝑑 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑡𝒉𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑒 𝑖𝑡 𝑡𝒉𝑎𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑏𝑖𝑔𝑔𝑒𝑟 𝑡𝒉𝑎𝑛 𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑤𝒉𝑜𝑙𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑙𝑑.' – 𝑪.𝑺 𝑳𝒆𝒘𝒊𝒔, 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒊𝒄𝒍𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑵𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒂.

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Ugh. It's that time of the year again. There goes my family, putting up the Christmas tree and adorning it with ornaments, singing carol songs, and talking about the good things that have happened to them over the years.

There I am, if you look closely, sitting in the chair at the extreme of the living room. The one people are unlikely to glance at because it is at the darkest corner of the room. A small, detached, lifeless corner of it.

There goes my family again, asking me to join them in the festivities, tagging me as a joyless Grinch. There I go again, scoffing and calling them idiots for partaking in such a pointless culture.

Christmas. Christmas. Christ-mas. Christ. What does He have to do with jingling bells, gift-wrapping, or pointless parties? It's His birthday. When did celebrating His birthday turn into waiting for some weird chubby man to discriminate against kids and give gifts to the "nice ones"?

I hate it when my mother tells me to turn up the volume of the carol songs. I hate it when my father orders me to join my siblings to decorate the tree. I hate it when my sisters try to make everything seem fun. I hate it when my brother pulls annoying Christmas jokes. I hate it when annoying relatives come over to demean my family, when they, themselves, aren't even doing that good.

I genuinely hate the period. But here I am, sitting on a stool outside the house, covered in an ugly, scratchy sweater, a hot chocolate in one hand, and a gift in the other. Family around, close friends in range. They talk, they laugh, they make merry. I may despise this, but it doesn't diminish my sense of comfort.

It's that time of the year again. The one that I can't stand but also wouldn't trade for anything. And for that, I thank Christ, both for being born and for everything else he's done throughout the year. Christmas would be nothing without Him. And so would I, without my family.

© Emem .M. Atang.

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