Christmas in Mbaise

Being that it was their first time ever travelling to our hometown, Tito and Muna were understandably more excited than us, their parents. We had prepared their minds for what they were about to experience, and they were super ready for it. Every street is not paved with gold, like Dubai, where we live, and the US, UK and other countries they have visited-not even like Lagos, where we used to live. The water and electricity supply may be erratic, even spasmodic. Security could be dodgy. But in the village, there will be fresh food to eat and fresh air to breathe. We will often wake up to or be woken up by birds chirping and the trees rustling and so and so forth, as can be found in the real world surrounded by nature. So, everyone was set for the ride in motherland, Mbaise. It was Christmas time, after all.

About security, many of my friends who know what’s up our part of Nigeria, the southeastern parts, did not encourage us to go home this Christmas. One of them reminded me of how my life insurance policy took a dip simply because I traveled to a “notorious” African country! So for how long should I continue to avoid my home because of the activities of some implacable agitators for a non-existent republic. I wondered. But after due consultations with and guidance from trusted relatives and friends, I elected to damn the consequences and make the trip.

I didn’t find it funny that one would have to be extremely cautious while moving around never to be found far from home at sundown, after 6pm. Hitherto, we used to set out for parties and other outings by 9pm! All that is gone, I’m told. Better to be safe than sorry. And this is not just about sit-at-home and some criminals masquerading as freedom fighters, but also about rogue security agencies making life difficult for the people and cashing out literally from the vulnerabilities of the natives, especially returnees like me. I couldn’t really be bothered as my mind was already made up.

The flight from Dubai to Lagos was normal, uneventful. The kids were already used to it. But connecting to Mbaise was different, for lack of a better definition. The kids became not a bit restless. They were anxious to get home to meet grandma and see where grandpa was buried right inside my house (and understand why). They kept asking after their cousins and other relatives, some of whom they have neither met nor even spoken to. They were wondering whether they would be allowed to play football with other kids in the village. Tito particularly kept wondering whether the gifts they brought for their cousins were safe in the luggage.

The anxiety was not helped much by the long delay in getting our luggage. Sometimes, I’ve been led to suspect that the only reason the luggage of Business Class passengers tagged “Priority” would come after those from the Economy Class iseither carelessness on the part of Federal Aviation Authority of Nigeria (FAAN), which is responsible for that, or the luggage handlers do it out of beef for the privileged class passengers or both. It took the equivalent of over 25% of our flight time from Dubai to Lagos to get our luggage.

Mercifully, we didn’t have to wait too long for our connecting flight to Mbaise. The kids were already tired and so they slept through the short flight from Lagos to Sam Mbakwe Airport. We could feel their relief and excitement when we touched down and they it dawned on them that we were home at last.

The road from the airport to our village was rough, bumpy, dusty and busy. Being the 23rd of December, just a couple of days before Christmas, the roads are justifiably busy. There were several other late arrivals and quite a few people running last-minute errands in preparation for the birth of Jesus Christ! The reception at the family house was incredible, unprecedented. Nothing prepared us for the pomp and panoply. Literally all our relatives turned up in our compound to welcome us, especially the twins who were coming home for the first time. Aside being their first time, their homecoming marked a watershed moment for the immediate and extended family that waited 15 years for their birth and another 9 for them to come home!

Now, let me tell you about Christmas in Mbaise. However, before I do, may I invite you to imagine the atmosphere in the house that day of our arrival, through the night and the days afterwards. Even for me, who has not been home since 2020, it felt different and truly exciting to be home again. The kids were all over the place with their cousins as three of my siblings were also home with their families. At a point I became concerned for my mom, who kept yelling out the names of the kids and occasionally mixing them up. Hahaha! Grandma work is not usually easy…!

Now, you must listen to the story of how we celebrate Christmas in Mbaise, from time immemorial. Of course, it is a period of homecoming. A lot of people make their way home from around the world in order to meet up with relatives and friends. It’s the perfect timing for weddings and age grade ceremonies and other events. The churches smartly cash in on the period to launch one fundraiser or another. Even town unions and schools also take advantage of the massive number of returnees to organize special events. Perhaps, the best part of the whole Christmas celebration is what we call Erigwara (or Return Match).

Erigwara is the practice of mass migration or visitation of relatives and friends on specific market days after December 25th, which is considered a general day of family celebration. On Christmas Day, people are supposed to stay in their homes and eat and drink without entertaining visitors or visiting anyone. Then, from the next day, the League or Return Match (Erigwara) kicks off! Let me tell you how it works.

There are four market days in Igboland (Eke, Orie, Afo and Nkwo). In Mbaise, these are multiplied by two. So, we have 8 market days-4 big market days and 4 small market days. After the Big Eke, Orie, Afo and Nkwo market days, the small ones follow. Somehow, different villages have been compartmentalized into different market days. For instance, my village market, Nkwogwu, falls on the Big Nkwo. So, on this day, all relatives and friends from other market places storm our village (the host) to celebrate Christmas with their relatives and friends. The next day, all roads lead to the next host village. It goes on and on until it goes round to the small Nkwo-and that is the end of the Christmas (usually on January 2nd of the new year).

I must add here that January 1 aside being the New Year day is also set aside for the celebration of Oji Ezinihitte Mbaise (a ceremony that sees all the communities in Ezinihitte Mbaisecome together to share kolanuts-oji in Igbo). Oji Ezinihitte is a major event in the calendar of Christmas activities in Mbaise annually. People from other parts of Mbaise and beyond migrate to Ezinihitte on January 1st for this cultural festival which attracts a lot of feasting and traditional dances.

Talking about traditional dances, Christmas in the village is marked by the appearance of numerous cultural dances, especially masquerades-Agaba, Mmanwu, Ekpo and Ulaga or Ojionu. These masquerades add serious spice to the entertainment and can be very competitive too. I can still recall what looks like the grand finale of the events when all the masquerades gather at the market square of the market town hosting the day’s Christmas to entertain the people. We normally leave home with our guests and move to the market square to witness the masquerade performance. You can only imagine the traffic snarl which is caused by the interplay of the activities of the masquerades and the human and vehicular traffic.

Erigwara gives us a great opportunity to meet our relatives and friends whom we have not met before or not met in a long time. As kids we also use the occasion to know which of our aunties cooks better than the other, if we have more than one married to someone in one marketplace. Very childish. Since it’s also a League or return match, we did compare the quality of hosting by our relatives and friends, and we will “publish” the results on January 3 a day after the hosting by the last marketplace.
So, we had prepared the kinds for all these and even made a list of relatives and friends we would visit. As the leader of our village masquerade Obiagu (Lion heart) Masquerade Group), I had sent money way ahead for the purchase of a new set of instruments and two sets of uniforms. The group were in my house that evening of our arrival to welcome us and test our new instruments. The kids had fun. Me too.

My cousin Oyibo (loosely translated means English man because he was particularly light sinned when we were younger), reminded me that Erigwara would commence in one of the neighboring villages. My father’s half-sister, Da Nwaogazi, was married there. Though she and her husband have long passed away, we’ve maintained very strong relationships with their our cousins, some of whom are our age mates.
So, Oyibo was asking that we prepare specially to storm their village with our masquerade. We will move from house to house to perform, join other masquerades in their market square and finally close the day with a mega display in our cousins’ house!

Suddenly, my eyes opened and, goodness me, I was dreaming!!! Time was 9:15am and I could see the morning light creeping in from under the blinds. I had overslept and no one tried to wake me up. Chai!

I’m not sure how I feel or how you, the reader, feels, about this hallucinatory turn of events, but I would still wish everyone a very merry Christmas and truly prosperous new year. 2024, a leap year, eminently qualifies as annos horribilis.

Oparah, Vice President, Corporate Communications & CSR, Airtel Africa, sent this piece from Dubai.