Conductor suits,
Measured to size,
Hanging on hangers,
In Papa’s wardrobe,
Waiting to be worn,
For the festivities
Fill our thoughts
Making us eager to start
Xmas earlier.
Oversize shoes,
Stuffed with tissues,
That will make us look,
Like Ali goes to school,
Is never an issue,
For even without laces,
They are like aces up our
sleeves
And braces for our
dresses.
Shiny plastic watches,
With shiny metal latches,
And silly looking faces,
But really looking gracey,
Lay on mama’s dressing
table,
In very lovely plastic
bags,
Begging to be worn,
Even before its specified
time.
Mickey dark goggles,
With beautiful plastic
frames,
Bought by grandma,
On her way from the
village,
For her lovely little
grandkids,
Lay on the refrigerator,
Blinking down like
*shine-shine*
Under the Christmas lights
in the sitting room.
Rolls of biscos,
Wraps of knockouts,
Bought with stolen money
Are packed under our beds
To be unleashed on
passersby,
And also innocent girls we
have crushes on,
As they walk out of the
church
After the Xmas-eve
service.
On Christmas day,
Like overstuffed teddies
we walk,
Bouncing quaintly in our
uncomfortable dresses,
And licking
ice-skobi-skobi endlessly
While trudging from house
to house,
In guise of seeing
old-time relatives
But ending up with our
tummies filled to bursting
And then spend the rest of
the year nursing the effects of constipation.
If you never celebrated
xmas the old-skool Nigerian children way,
You never knew what you
missed.
© OLUWASEUN ADEGBOHUN 2011
