My Christmas Story

I had always heard of Santa Claus and the image I had of Him was a stout fat man dressed in red carrying a sack of gifts and entering through the chimney. Well, since we didn't have any chimney, I always wondered where he'd come in through if he ever visited my house. A day before Christmas when I was quite younger, mom said to get ready, we'd be going to see Santa. In my little mind, the image I had was the one I expected we were going to see. I was so excited, I told everyone who cared to listen, everyone literally, I mean even the mallam on my street that I was going to see Santa. Whether they understood what I was saying or not, I was just too excited to care. Finally morning came, after a long night, longer than usual or not probably cause I was too excited to sleep well. It was actually a Christmas party and other kids were there as well. Eventually, we stood on the line waiting our turn to see Santa. From afar, he looked slimmer than usual, did he lose weight? I wondered. As I got closer, I found out he looked darker, was it cause of going down through different chimneys? I pondered. And when it was two kids away from my turn, I screamed. This was definitely not the real Santa, his beard had just fallen off! I was mortified. Mom kept asking what was wrong, I couldn't explain all I could do was point at him. I refused to go meet him, he was just too black to be true. But that didn't stop me from reaching out to collect the bagpack he stretched out to give me. I went home totally disappointed and more disappointed when I found out the next term that Santa was our maths teacher Uncle Segun. I didn't like maths so that made it all the worse. But at least I was grateful for the bag pack, I had shared its contents with my friend Bolu who didn't get anything for Christmas. It was a season for sharing right?

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