Chapter Four

Yes, I thought to myself, "Christmas Bamboo" was the perfect name for our family's bamboo tea tradition. Even though I anticipated that some people might find the name amusing or ridiculous, it truly encapsulated the essence of our unique Christmas celebration. The idea of writing a book about our Christmas tradition and gifting it with the title "Christmas Bamboo" brought a smile to my face—a silly thought that sparked excitement within me.

The gentle harmattan breeze brushed against my face as we navigated through the bustling crowd. Chioma led the way, and I followed closely behind, quickening my pace to avoid losing sight of her amidst the clamour and noise.

As we continued walking, I noticed the joyous expressions on people's faces in the market. Christmas was approaching, and the festive spirit was palpable. Similar to cities worldwide, Owerri was adorned with enchanting Christmas decorations. The main streets and boulevards were beautifully embellished, radiating with the sparkle of Christmas lights. Many homes had erected Christmas trees, their windows adorned with golden ornaments and strings of lights.

However, in my village, we had a different Christmas ambiance that might seem simple to city dwellers but held a unique charm for us villagers. While Christmas trees were absent, our village streets were adorned with decorated CDs, exuding an atmosphere of excitement and togetherness that made Christmas special. To my family, our bamboo tea tradition, born out of hardship, was a source of happiness and joy that we celebrated during this festive season.

Here, in the vibrant Owerri market, I was thrilled to observe the bustling activity around me. Customers eagerly competed to secure items at discounted prices, aware that prices would skyrocket during the final week before Christmas. I also watched as hawkers vied for attention, hoping to make some extra money to facilitate their journeys back home. Parents busily purchased fireworks and firecrackers for their children, adding to the festive atmosphere.

The market reverberated with the melodies of Christmas songs playing in the background, blending with the lively chatter of the crowd. Some children joyfully danced to the music, adding to the merriment in the air.

The small yellowish-brown udara fruits, known for their numerous health benefits, were sold on almost every street corner, roadside, and even in shopping malls. By January, there would be an abundance of udara in the market. However, the thought of these delicious fruits going to waste when bruised or rotten saddened me. In that moment, I pondered the possibility of establishing a winery in the future, ensuring that no udara fruit would be wasted.

'In the future, I am going to make udara wine and sell it,' I declared confidently. 'Every family in my village has an udara tree planted in their homes, including ours in our backyard. Instead of letting the fruits go to waste, setting up a winery would be the best course of action.'

Chioma looked at me, intrigued. 'That sounds like a promising business to start. It's a shame to see the fruits being wasted here. Since we have both sour and sweet udara varieties, you'll need to package them differently. Hiring wine-making experts to guide you and a talented designer to create captivating wine bottle designs would be essential. Additionally, you can explore other possibilities, like making chewing gum from the fruit. When the time comes, you'll know exactly what to do. I have full confidence in your high IQ,' she said with a relaxed smile.