Hi all, it’s Farzana, your host for Thursday Connectors here. Join me in this fun-loving end-of-year special, where we are talking festivities, and all the traditions (and quirkiness) which we sometimes unknowingly adopt.

I, for one, have never had an Eid which hasn’t ended in great rolling-on-the-floor laughter, at something weird happening, or someone saying something funny at some point during the day. With all the family together, I guess this is inevitable. There’s always someone who makes everyone else laugh, and believe me or not, in my family, I am that one person who often says and does the most childish or, as my kids would say, cringeworthy things throughout the day.

I’m the sibling known as the party animal as well as the one with a loud sense of humour. I’ve grown up being the entertainer of the family, too. So, come a celebration, the music goes on and nieces shout: “Popho, dance, dance, dance!” and shameless me will get up and forget all my worries and woes and start doing lots of twirling and whirling to the latest Bollywood number. LOL, it’s true! They’ll all take videos of me and I’ll be over-dramatic and do exaggerated bhangra moves and funny facial expressions. I’m totally mad like that.

I also have a tendency to be a bit blingy during celebrations. I’ll wear the most sparkly dress ever, and even Pat Butcher-style chandeliers in my ears! Although I’ve toned this down as I’ve got older, as my poor ears can’t tolerate big earrings any more.

As you can gather, I do love celebrations. I believe they are a time to make memories and spend quality time together with family. And, more than anything. they are an excuse to cherish each others’ presence. Recently, I was watching an old video of a birthday party when my now-adult twins were only four years old and I cried the whole way through, because so many of those family and friends are no longer with us. My grandma, especially, was the life of any celebration when I was a child. She died 16 years ago and is still deeply missed. Even though I’ve laughed and joked in the many celebrations since, I do still shed a secret tear in her memory.

This is all a part of life, isn’t it?  Joys and sorrows. Laughter and sadness. However, my page this month is a joyful one. So, let’s happily head to our Connectors now, who have all kindly shared some of their memories and stories with us.

First up is Afsana Elanko, who made me smile with her short piece and her image of the snowman.

Hi, Afsana. Let’s connect:

I Slept Under The Christmas Tree

Did you know if you sleep under the Christmas tree you go to the magical world of make-believe? This is where all your creativity comes to life. You have so many ideas you can’t keep them to yourself and, if you’re a writer, you start writing. The procrastination, writer’s block and all negativity associated with writing goes away. What a difference one night makes! If you’re really lucky and see a snowman while you’re sleeping, then capture it in your mind’s eye and remember it every time you want a new idea. It only works if you really, truly believe. As you can tell, I’ve always believed in sleeping under the Christmas tree.

© Dr Afsana Elanko, 2024

The image I Captured A Snowman From My Dream is created from the mind’s eye for the charity Aphasia Reconnect’s Christmas card design for 2025.

Connect with Aphasia on Facebook: Aphasiareconnec1, Instagram: @Aphasiareconnec1 and via their website: aphasiareconnect.org

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Next, we connect with Mirabel, whose fantastic short story also made me smile. I was able to relate in many ways.

Hi, Mirabel. Let’s connect:

Maltese Intercession 1974

“I’m home!” Gracie called out, as she headed for the kitchen at the back of the house to put the kettle on before spending the evening with her GCE textbooks.

“Gracie, Gracie!” Her five-year-old brother ran straight to her, arms flung out, barely able to contain his excitement.

“What is it, Joey?”

“The parish priest gave me this!” Joey ran to the table and grabbed a few papers.

“Well done, Joey! You’ve been chosen to deliver the Christmas sermon at midnight mass. I’ll help you learn it.”

As Christmas Eve approached, Joey grew nervous about the big night. He was the youngest boy delivering this important recitation.

Gracie tried to distract her brother. “Come and help me set up the Presepju.”

They brought out the box containing an exquisite nativity made of wax figures, hand-carved by their mother when she first got married.

Joey handled each piece with love and care. “I wish Mummy could come to see me at the church,” he said quietly.

Gracie patted her brother on the head, ruffling his dark curls. “I’m sure she’ll be there, Joey. Now, let’s get those ‘grasses’ you’ve been growing for the Nativity.”

Joey knelt by the cupboards and pulled out a tray full of used margarine tubs containing snow-white Vetch (Gulbiena), Wheat (Qamh), and Red Millet (Skalora).

Gracie carried the tray to the Nativity and helped him place them in and around the statuettes.

Joey held Gracie’s hand. “Isn’t it just like Mum always did it?”

Gracie gave him a tight squeeze. “Come on you, let’s have a cup of Milo and Imqaret [date-filled pastries].”

On Christmas Eve morning, Joey was up early practising his sermon.

Gracie was busy melting the dark chocolate to decorate their fruit cake. “Come and lick the bowl before the chocolate hardens!” she laughed.

“What shall I do if I forget one of the sentences?” Joey asked, as he licked his fingers.

Gracie sat him on the counter and looked into his brown eyes. “Close your eyes, Joey, and smile. Then, just go through the last line in your head and the next bit will follow by itself, I promise!”

That night, the church was packed with people. When the Mass started, Joey almost disappeared behind a haze of incense. Then the lights went out and the priest lit one candle. This light was passed around as each parishioner lit another person’s candle. The organist played Gloria In Excelsis Deo.

It was time for Joey to deliver the sermon. The priest lowered the microphone for him.

Joey opened his arms, saying, “Peace to all…” and paused. Then he closed his eyes, smiled, exhaled and, “…Rejoice, rejoice,”  he continued.

That night, when Gracie tucked her brother up in bed, he whispered, “I almost forgot a bit, but I did what you said. When I closed my eyes, I felt a beautiful light around me and when I smiled, Mum smiled back.”

© Mirabel Lavelle, 2024

Connect with Mirabel on X: @mirabel20287342

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We now connect with Rachel, who tells us how Christmas is celebrated in Nigeria.

Hi, Rachel. Let’s connect:

Christmas: Difference

As a Nigerian, Christmas is a big deal – just as it is here in the UK. But the way we celebrate is quite different and, honestly, it’s funny to think about! In Nigeria, we often call it “Xmas,” though we also say “Odun” or “Krismeti” depending on the language. Families start greeting each other early, and everyone wears new clothes, often prepared months in advance. These are called “Christmas clothes” and are a big reveal on Christmas Day at church.

On Christmas Eve, we attend church for carols, take photos, and share treats like fried chin chin, fried chicken, fried beef, fruit wine and sweets and chocolates with neighbours, friends and family. Meals are a huge part of the celebration, with dishes such as jollof rice, fried rice, pounded yam, and egusi soup. Children receive Christmas money but, as I grew up, I became the one handing it out! Gifts are exchanged, but we mostly use Boxing Day to visit family and friends, or spend time being out with family, instead of opening presents.

Though it’s also cold in Nigeria during Christmas due to harmattan, we don’t sip tea like the Brits, we enjoy hot goat meat or catfish pepper soup. I once offered this to my British friend, and her face turned red instantly. I had to quickly offer her puff puff to calm her down, joking that it was a version of Christmas pudding!

Now I’m in the UK, I enjoy the chocolates, turkey and drinks, but I still tell my friends: “You can either get me chin chin or puff puff, or just buy me chocolates!” We make a joke over this each time, but I’m glad they’re interested in my culture and I’ve even taught them to make naija jollof rice and egusi soup (with a little less pepper for them!). It’s fun blending traditions from both worlds and enjoying Christmas with the people we love.

© Rachel Affiong Umoh, 2024

Connect with Rachel on Instagram: @umoh_rachel and X: @UmohRachel

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Next up, is a sweet piece from Eithne Cullen about a special Christmas tradition.

Hi, Eithne. Let’s connect:

The Crib

Growing up, we always had a crib in our home. These days, the word is considered old-fashioned, with the American “nativity set” being used more frequently. But for us it’s always a crib.

When I got my own home, I bought one;  a little wooden stable with an angel on the top. The stall inside was home to Mary and Joseph, an ox and an ass. The tiny manger stayed empty till Christmas Eve, when Baby Jesus would appear and make his bed on the plastic hay. A shepherd and a sheep were close at hand, to celebrate the Christmas story, Jesus’ birth. It was kept with reverence.

Then one year, we couldn’t find the figure of the child. An alarm went up. How could he be replaced? We put our thinking hats on and had a try. My pastry figure lacked colour and a semblance of realism, its arms and legs spindly and cracked. My friend’s marzipan figure was excellent, round and bonny, wrapped in a sparkling ribbon, like a king. But Nanna won the day. Her knitted Jesus lay in the manger comfortably, a smile that wished everyone Peace On Earth embroidered on his face, his little eyes watching.

We found the plastic figure very soon, but he doesn’t have the charm of the knitted one. And every Christmas he appears on Christmas Eve, perfect in his stable home.

© Eithne Cullen, 2024

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And finally, let’s connect with Madeleine’s ‘Lucie Horse’ in her Christmas hat, who, along with everyone else at Write On! sends out warm wishes and big hugs to each and every one of you, our readers and contributors. Here’s to a great New Year filled with good health and happiness. See you again in 2025!

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Issue 23 of Write On! is out now and you can read it online here. Find it in libraries and other outlets. You can find previous editions of our magazines here.

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