‘Turkish’ and ‘Gifted’ Xmas

When I wrote about Extending Brand Nigeria in the UK,somebody thought I had a swell time in England while my last summer holiday lasted. However, he warned that my plan for a return visit during winter might be ‘hazardous.’ I was not just planning to come and visit once more but to do a couple of things in London. Coincidentally, I was going to be around during Christmas.

I would not like to bore you with Virgin Nigeria’s conduct as I tried making my way to the UK- that is a piece, hopefully, for Nigerian newspapers. There is a condition though: I drop the ‘case’ if the airline meets my expectations on my return trip. We shall see.

It was my first Christmas away from Nigeria and I sure liked what I saw. The day before was a Sunday and I listened to my ‘Evangelist’ recount his ordeal as he and his family tried to get a turkey on Saturday. After spending several hours looking for the precious bird, according to him, he finally got one at a Tesco shop somewhere around Lewisham/Catford. That Londoners had bought up all the turkeys in town was a surprise to me.

I did not fully understand the import of my ‘pastor’s’ side-sermon until my host’s family and I stepped out on our ‘Christmas Adventure.’ Our first port of call was just two doors away from us- a pleasant ‘Sierra-Nigerian’ couple with two unusually respectful boys. Yes, ‘unusually’ because it is the same society where I witnessed a young man, Nigerian (that cannot be more than 33) who, rather than say ‘pardon me, sir?’ to his almost 70 year-old father-in-law, in an attempt to understand what was earlier said, chose to ask: ‘What do you mean?’- No ‘sir.’

Do not mind me- I am very old-fashioned. Come to think of it ‘What do you mean’ is a very harmless inquiry but I come from a country where such a question is seen as disrespectful. ‘My brother’ and his sierra-Leonian wife made me understand the emphasis on Turkey as ‘sermonised’ the day before. On the table was a barbecued turkey and the only missing parts were the legs and the neck/head. The turkey received solidarity from other delicatessen even as I ‘washed’ down everything with a particular brand of South African wine.

I recall that after church the previous day, my host and the family made a trip to Makro in Charlton where they shopped like it was the last day before Christ’s coming. Little did I know that they were buying items they would give out as Christmas gifts. Everywhere we visited, turkey was an issue and plenty of gifts were exchanged. It was no doubt Toys n ‘R’ Us’s season, e.g. my host’s son was simply overwhelmed with toy-gifts. We also did last minute meat shopping at Woolwich so as to give ourselves a treat at home too.

After ‘demolishing’ what our lovely neighbours prepared for us, he brought out some small ‘white balls’ in a flat plate and offered them to me. Not knowing what they were, I carefully inquired only to be informed that the name for them was ‘mint.’ Perhaps the way I made my enquiry was deemed to be funny by my host’s wife because she demanded to know what I thought the objects were. Innocently, I said I thought they were camphor (terpene hydrocarbon) and everyone in the dining room had a hilarious fit. “My God, Camphor, for you to eat?” asked our host, jokingly. And my London host went: “Ah, Oga Yusuf, what will they say in Nigeria- we brought you to London to give you camphor to eat?” By now, his pregnant wife, due to excess laughter, was almost going to contract- remember she started it all.

When further ‘interviewed’ I said I actually thought the ‘camphor balls’ were meant for me to put in my jacket pockets to suppress the aroma from the consumed food which might have stuck. And then I realised that I had kick-started another session of rib-cracking laughter. But I never knew it was going to be a funny one!

I would not like to mention my host’s name here but the guy is sure an enigma- he is simply a ‘consumer.’ If you watch him eat in his home you will be scared! He ate everywhere we visited on Christmas day- Peckham, Thamesmead, Grove Park etc. The good thing about this guy’s case is that he does not joke with physical exercises and that explains why he is not on the fat side. When we went on the bathroom scale the other day, I was even surprised to know that my 93.7kg frame was 1kg more than his; but the chap consumes thrice what I can eat at a sitting!

Boxing Day sustained the previous day’s exchange of gifts and demolition of turkey- though no longer as fresh as the Christmas version. Every home had a Christmas tree that was well- lit and at the base of each tree you would find well-packaged gifts which were opened on Christmas day and Boxing Day. I am talking about big Christmas trees here. Every home is still adorning the traditional Christmas lighting right from the entrance and sometimes all through the entire front building. The grotto bit is even lovelier. Blackheath was a wonder to behold in this regard and the fireworks at Dulwich would definitely catch your attention.

London roads were practically empty on Christmas day as everyone stayed at home to savour it; even the buses were off the roads. No tube or surface train operation and that means you were encouraged to stay home and enjoy the day with your family. Decent Christmas experience it was for me and I am going back to Nigeria with several lessons, e.g. no more chicken for Christmas in my home- it has to be turkey!

My friend of 22 years, Stanley Eyanagho, treated us to some lovely Nigeria-imported VCD shows like ‘Made in Warri,’ ‘Crack Ya Ribs,’ and ‘A Night of a Thousand Laughs’ and did we laugh! It was all on Christmas day in his Thamesmead home. Did I spot a tear in one of Stanley’s eyes as he viewed a couple of photographs I brought from Nigeria? The pictures showed us 22-23 years ago in our University of Ibadan days! Emotional, isn’t it?

‘Nigeria Road’ exists in Charlton! I had to stop my host for a photograph by the street sign. Very, very encouraging- it is not about 419 afterall! A friend’s failure to pick me up on the 26th for the much talked-about London gigs here and there turned out to be a blessing for me as I had the opportunity of knowing Rainham in Kent and Dagenham in Essex- I travelled with my host and his family. These two places are simply beautiful, away from the hustle and bustle of London.

My host’s father-in-law came from Nigeria to encourage his daughter who just had a baby in Dagenham. He had visited us at Bromley before Christmas and on Boxing Day we had to pick him from his son’s house in Rainham to Dagenham where he relived his youthful affection for his wife of 37 years. I was emotionally touched as both hugged and whispered sweet words in each other’s ears- mama had flown in from our country that day.

As I watched them, I challenged myself to be more loving and romantic to my wife henceforth- it is a difficult thing for me because I am boring when it comes to romance but it is time to change for good.

While we drove through Canary Wharf, Lee Green, Kidbrooke, Eltham, Heather Green, etc. heading back home, I told myself this year’s Christmas was the best I had ever had in my adult life!

Meanwhile I have cold to contend with due to my host’s malfunctioning boiler. Despite replacing the entire heating system, it looks like the chartered accountant-turned CORGI-certified boiler fixer, coincidentally a Nigerian, may need to pay us another visit to finally put things right. To leave my host in this trying cold period for another friend would have amounted to callousness, insensitivity and selfishness. So I am stuck with my friend in the cold and as soon as things normalise I can dash to West and North London to encourage my other numerous friends.

Merry Xmas, my people.