Chapter One
Christmas Bamboo
Nightengale Ben-Onyeukwu
This book is dedicated to all those who continue to cherish and uphold their cherished family traditions.
Chapter one
Dressed in a blue and white striped school uniform, with two long plaits adorning my hair, I gazed out of the window as the gentle harmattan wind blew from the udara tree outside, delicately caressing my face. The tree stood tall, thriving with both ripe and unripe udara fruits, just as it did every December.
The udara, also known as African Star Apple, possessed an edible gummy skin and dark brown seeds covered with creamy pulp, a treat that was eagerly consumed. Its presence served as a radiant signal that both the harmattan season and the month of December had gracefully arrived.
The arrival of December brought with it a distinct dusty scent, carried by the winds of the harmattan season. The fragrance permeated my classroom, and the gentle breeze rustled through the pages of my books and those of my classmates.
Seated in the second row next to the window, I leaned against the wall, shifting my gaze from outside to the History teacher who diligently wrote on the blackboard. Observing her slim figure, dressed in a vibrant red outfit, I couldn't help but feel impatient. I wished she would hasten her lesson and leave the classroom, allowing me to venture out and pluck some udara before heading straight to the market to purchase Christmas goodies.
Was Christmas approaching once again? That meant I would have the pleasure of partaking in our cherished bamboo tea family tradition with my loved ones in the village. In the corner of the blackboard, the words "25 days to Christmas" stood as a countdown, meticulously written by our Class Prefect. This countdown served as a heartwarming reminder for me and my classmates. We already had a comprehensive list of items to buy for Christmas, and the money in our piggy bank would certainly enable us to acquire numerous things. After all, everyone desired to look their best on Christmas day.
Fortunately, we had already entered the second week of December 2022, and by the fourth week, we would conclude our mock exams, signalling my joyous journey back to the village. The thought of returning home for Christmas filled me with happiness and excitement. Beyond the celebrations and traditions with my immediate family, I eagerly anticipated reuniting with my extended relatives, whom I hadn't seen in nearly a year.
Shifting my gaze from the classroom to the udara tree once more, I noticed some students standing beneath its branches, gleefully tossing stones and sticks at the fruits. It was a beautiful sight to behold. I had asked a boy to share one of the plucked fruits with me, but before I could receive it, my History teacher abruptly interrupted, pelting my forehead with a small piece of chalk.
'Eva…' a girl whispered from behind, but my mind was elsewhere, lost in thoughts of the impending Christmas. Oblivious to the fact that the History teacher had grown frustrated with my lack of focus, I continued staring outside, only to be jolted back to reality when a girl across the aisle nudged me. It was too late, though, as my forehead had already become the target of my teacher's small piece of chalk.
In that moment, I couldn't help but feel like I resembled a cat or a giant panda. While I had never seen a panda before, I imagined my History teacher had turned my face into a striking resemblance of either.
'The teacher is calling you,' another girl reminded me.
'Yes?' I turned my head to meet the piercing gaze of Madam Agnes, our strict and respected form teacher who also taught History. Behind her black-rimmed glasses, anger emanated from her.
'Looking outside the classroom while I am teaching? Stand at the back,' she commanded, then turned to the window and shouted, 'Quickly, return to your classes!' The students scattered for a moment before regrouping to resume their quest for the delicious udara fruits.