Once Upon A Christmas Poem by Uche Nwanze

The Sun has gone to bed
The moon just had her supper
The chickens in vigil of trepidation
It may be their last supper
As the morrow comes
Noisy silence envelopes the air
The goats bleats, oblivious tomorrow may be bleak
The pots on the fire wooing for a feast
The evening skies is blinded with a staccato of fireworks
Little boys in friendly frenzy as they tease the girls with their knock outs
Father Christmas may not be Santa but he came with a few gifts
And Baba Uwa with his funny dance steps, little children giggle at his protruded belly
Ekpo chasing menancingly with his koboko, Ivie wonders if he is a Spirit or is it Efosa behind the mask
Iyé Eseosa and Nnè Ngozi always outdo each other, who will be first to knock at our door
A plate of éma and black soup should be cocooned in Mama Ofure's fancy bowls
The sweet smell of Mommys' chicken stew perfumes the compound
As the Ageless Sun reaches her peak, we queue on a Christmas pilgrimage
House to house and Street to Street, adorned in our new clothes and oversized shoes
As the night swallows morning, we return with our loot of mint Naira notes
Our stomachs like that of a pregnant gazelle
To the toilet, we bank all relics of expedition museum in our tanks during our Christmas voyage
As the bells Jingle for the last time, we are pregnant in vivacious hope for another Christmas