In Uganda it is a beggar and a poor man’s Christmas

I recall growing up in the late 70s; the excitement of Christmas was indescribably palpable.
The Christmas cards came flowing in from relatives, friends, workmates and in-laws. (In-laws are relatives by the way, but there we go. We picked this combination out of Luganda; ‘aboluganda, abaako, na bemikwano!’)

Now with the advent of internet and communication technology, we receive e-cards, memes, text messages by the click of a button on the phone or computer.

The ‘Christmas tree’ scientifically known as cupressus lusitanica or ‘obukomera’ hedges in Luganda" was also another of those things that was a must have in the season. They were cut from the hedges of the homes and offices of the privileged though in some places they grew in the wild. It was decorated with artifacts made of paper and colored by the children. In some homes colored toilet paper acted as a supplement.

Insecurity over the years and the habit of land grabbing slowly led to the disappearance of the Christmas tree as we knew it. Folks now build solid concrete walls around their properties and most of the green areas where you may have landed on a wild Christmas tree have been turned into arcades or apartments.

Prosperity then delivered the plastic one which comes in all colors and shapes from green, to white, red and blue complete with electronic lights plus plastic roses as decorations. It was also the time when we participated in baking cakes and bread –some of us helping by licking sugar and blueband!

The other interesting bit was the Christmas play at school and at the church. Here your old mum or dad -the one who whacked your butt when you misbehaved -was usually drafted in to play Mary or Joseph with some comical costume and how funny they turned out to be with their hair let down.

The carols sung by church choirs and also by a colorful procession which moved in the night holding lanterns and candles, was a highlight.

The latter took the message of Christmas to the streets, villages and the nooks as they sang carols like Silent Night,’ the popular German Christmas carol, composed in 1818 by Franz Xaver Gruber. It is 200 years old this Christmas.

Christmas was not complete without a new set of clothes. Those days the designers were tailors who sat on the verandahs of shops in most trading centers and took you measurements for dress, shirt and trouser. One of the hilarious moments in this measuring process was the bit where the tailor measured the waist and added a small allowance of an inch or two to take care of the anticipated sumptuous lunch you were going to enjoy, which would push the stomach forward a little bit.

The materials were expensively sourced from Kenya and so it was not uncommon to find a family with matching colors bought in bulk for a discount. The mums especially did a Busuti and the remainder of the cloth made a little dress or shirt for the young ones. The strong Bata shoe was in abundance to cover the feet. Now China has delivered clothes in abundance besides the first class second hand clothes that come in from Europe and America.

There was always a cameraman who came and organized the family for a photo. Delivery of the same would be a month or so later as the studios which had the facility to develop photos where in Kisumu or Nairobi in Kenya.

There was also the option of going to the villages which was a very great one for the village or yesteryears were a prosperous place from which one came with a trunk load of food. In the village you saw bulls being slaughtered and they were not black and white like you saw in the picture books. You were also pampered by your grand parents who scolded your parents for not teaching you ‘our language!’

These days most villages lie in despair, full of people dressed in rags and begging to survive. They are not very different from most of their cousins in town at least in attitude. The average Ugandan thinks his neigbour owes him a living and almost every phone call especially around this time is a plea for help because ‘we were not paid.’

The culture of begging for Christmas is now fully ingrained even among the middle class. ‘Where is my Christmas?’ is such a common greeting in this period. People know which company does ‘not give Christmas’ and the one that does or the one that gives a small Christmas. Which one holds Christmas parties for which people scheme to attend and enjoy free drinks and eats.
The ubiquitous hamper with a bottle of wine has become mandatory with a business card of the sender attached to remind you to remember them in the coming year. It is a much sought after item.

The pressure of poverty some of it mental around this period is the main cause of most problems. Taxi and bus drivers will drive so fast to make an extra trip from the many people travelling. That is the birth of death due to accidents. There will be many acts of gluttony and over drinking to enjoy the unusual abundant food and cheap alcohol that comes with the times.
Others will store what they may not consume in unhygienic conditions for a later day and that will expose them to food poisoning. There will be some wide eyed people who will want to steal in order to make a quick buck to buy a present to impress a loved one.

Times have changed. Christmas for the mind of a beggar and a poor man is a dangerous affair. It is nothing near to what the scriptures tell us.
Merry Chirtmas.

Nicholas Sengoba is a commentator on political and social issues
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Twitter:@nsengoba