CHRISTMAS IN AFRICA- BY AJAKAYE STRIDA

It was only scattering weeks to Christmas ,the ear -splitting  night of every city in Lagos State State had begun. Heads found it difficult to sleep a wink. Sounds from frogs, crooning birds were not much of the sleepless night anymore. The coleens and lads ,essex - girls  and internet monsters with all will were found under trees with Christmas fireworks clamorously hitting the streets hard as some even had the courage of holding the willows in their palms as it made thwack thwack sounds

As usual Anike spent her day indoor always as she was tutored to be the faithful book worm, eat,, run errands within the house. The Ajanaku's  house was the Paradise of the city, at the front of their house did two long bungalows serve as a passage for cars cruising out of their compound.

Fainly,  Anike habitually insisted on washing her clothing herself though they had maids.

  ' Mum, I am coming. I want to dry my clothes downstairs. '
  ' Okay, have you this morning? ' Her mother asked I sharp anxiety. She knew Anike could spend half a day hero worshipping her books without putting a seed in her mouth.
   '  I am coming, don't worryyyy...  ' She heaved her last word running down the brown tiled stairs.
     '  What? By after ten? We are holding money for enjoyment not for hospital bills. '

Anike paused at the window of her elder brother's room as she rested on the handrails, raising her left foot as she peeped through the window. She saw how he decorated the walls of his room with his artworks, Christmas cards, shiny colourful balls. She said to herself, ' How I wish my Africa cam be beautiful as this... '

She began to walk within the bounds of the extensive concrete compound and she glimpsed a group of people shouting at the forefront of the tailors shop under one the mango trees.

    ' I will light this banger. ' A young boy shrieked  at his brother.
    ' It is my turn. ' He held the fireworks in his hands, resting them on his buttocks moving away from his brother who was a little older than him.

Anike gave him a close eye. She noticed he was scared of his brother and she began to move towards then. Suddenly, she heard him scream.
    ' Awwww! '  He hit his backs against the feet reach of the tree, red faced.

She did not know  if she felt the pain, she was not ready to know if he was a brother, friend or just a young child. The shrill of his voice  set her  wheels in motion. She ran smartly to the mango tree and raised him
    ' Oh sorry! Why are the fighting each other .'
     ' He is the one Aunty Anike.' The elder brother retorted.
     ' Come on! Shh... Don't you know you should always take care of him? ' She reposted. She dipped her hand in the pocket of her fitted slate jean. It was only just two hundred naira in her pocket still she gave it to them.

Rekindled with joy, they jumped happily like frogs.
The evening was very cold, she had refused to have any rest through out the day, the weather streamed through her thoughts as she wrote down stories in her room. She thought of how her father was going to take them to San Francisco this year for the Christmas celebration.

Her father, Mr. Ajanaku was a man in the swim and he took them all over  the world on various seasons. At times he took them to Paris for their born day.

She never wanted all this, tired of hearing stories of gentlemen on the highway, tired of few stuffed shirts in her State. It was like poverty was set in stone around her. Her land going miles to serve another man's land in the label of enjoyment up undressed her developing State.

She and her father would surely study at night in the den,she had something to tell father today. Yes, she did. Father was so weary but he struggled to teach her for the day. She and her father would surely study at night in the den,she had something to tell father today. Yes, she did. Father was so weary but he struggled to teach her for the day, they discussed job talks, experiences for the day. 

   'This environment is not nice, it is frustrating, they only make products expensive during festive seasons to hurt the masses. Her father complained bitterly, shaking his head fervently like someone taking alcohol for the first time.
  ' We will get better someday and forever Dad. ' Anike said.
  ' When? He dotted his eye on her. When the next twentieth generation makes the supreme sacrifice?' He hissed loudly. He began to hit the table with his thick palms as he crossed his long legs.
    'Daaaa... Why are speaking this way? I don't like it, so you mean you will take us to San Francisco this year again?' Her eyes turned red, she frowned  ' I am not going! Leave me to be here.'

    ' Anike!' He looked surprised at her reaction.
    ' Daddy we are the opening gambit of Africa's progress, if we don't, who will change Africa to every man's promise land? I am an African, so are you. Why spend Christmas in another man's land? We shouldn't make it the rich man's remit . Africa is no picnic. We are one, Africa is one. The money you spend on retsina, flight, gumbo, apple pie, you and the shakers, movers, your wealthy friends. Why not go around Africa, give the needy, poor, help the extremely penurious children of the fifty four mothers. The problems I'm Africa curse as not taken her to the grave, give her a new dawn. The Presidents in Africa are not the leaders alone, the more the merrier, if each rich individual will leave his ewe lamb on Christmas for the betterment of Africa, step by step Africa will weep buckets no more. Father why can't we go to the orphanage homes in Africa on Christmas,motherless babies father... '

She knelt before her father,' East West, home best. Please, let us spend our Christmas helping Africa from today onwards. '

She swept him off his feet, he knew it,' Anike, yes. I want to spend my Christmas in Africa. ' He drew her up and gave her a kiss on the forehead.

RASHIDAT OLAMIDAYO AJAKAYE

STRIDA...guiding you to striking confidence in academic and creative writing!

- Nigeria