Who would have thought that the peaceful Christmas morning would turn into a tumultuous evening sprinkled with loud knocks, screams, cries, anger-laden voices, and a soft, tiny voice begging and pleading for the noise to cease.
I wouldn't be able to talk about Christmas without mentioning Christmas eve.
The day that sowed the seed that would grow rapidly into a giant, hulking tree of conflict and disarray on the bright Christmas afternoon.
I spent most of Christmas eve with Oluebube, to the intense annoyance of my mother who wanted me to help.
However, as I had made myself deliberately absent from my house and perched myself in my uncle's house: my dad's brother's house, she had no other option than to enlist the help of the children of our extended family, mainly her brothers'-in-law children, in cooking and serving the guests.
Initially, I planned to help her.
