Dear Santa,
I’ve never been one to enjoy your holidays. It’s not because I don’t like gifts or the idea of jolly spirits running around in new dresses and shoes, but because it always makes me feel overstimulated. The Christmas breeze, the carols playing on repeat, the endless preparations and cooking—it’s a lot. I usually get so excited about Christmas that by the time my excitement hits its peak, I crash. Then, all I want to do is eat. And eat. And maybe eat some more until the holiday ends.
Christmas also gives me unnecessary anxiety. It makes me emotional as well and I don’t think that has anything to do with the birth of Jesus Christ. I’d relate that to not having the best Christmas celebrations as a kid. For some reason, Christmas was always a weird anxious time at home. There’s also this pressure to match everyone else’s energy, which is exhausting, to say the least.
Christmas makes me question everything—why are we buying all these things? Why are the best movies saved for Christmas? I mean, couldn’t we have The Grinch available all year? (Just remembered the time my sister called me a Grinch because of my disdain for Christmas smh)
Speaking of my bestie Jesus and his birthday, I believe no one actually knows the exact date of His birth. The way Christmas is celebrated now feels like a holiday and I’m sure he’s just up there smiling at us having fun or wondering what the hell we’re doing. We could ask Mary or the three Wise Men aka the founders of GPS.
Dear Santa, I’ve had a year. From January to December, it’s been a rollercoaster. The kind of rollercoaster where you scream not because you’re thrilled but because you’re dangling upside down with no idea how you got there. It’s been emotional, draining, and oddly hilarious in ways I can’t quite explain. Since you’re supposedly magical, I trust you already know what I mean, yeah?
This Christmas, though, I’ve decided to try something new. Instead of being a holiday skeptic, I’m going to have as much fun as possible. My sister’s yearly Christmas excitement? I’ll borrow some of that. (I seriously wonder how she does it every single year… be excited like it’s her birthday or something😭✋🏽)
But before I fully immerse myself, do I believe you’re real? Hell no. If you were, you wouldn’t keep skipping Africa when delivering gifts. Do you have a thing against heat? It’s giving racism, Santa. Are you racist?
Now, if by some miracle you do decide to drop by this year, here’s my list. Nothing too outrageous, just a few humble requests:
10 million Naira. You can do transfer, I won’t mind. Cash in a Christmas stocking works too. (Is that still a thing?)
A shiny new writing job that pays big money. Like, “I don’t have to check the price tag” money.
Can you please fix the dollar-to-naira exchange rate? I know this isn’t your department, but since you’re magical, you could probably pull a few strings.
100 subscribers on Substack before the year ends. It’s not much to ask, is it?
That suya man around my estate? He makes his suya so dry it feels like I’m chewing flavored cardboard. Please can you give him a knock on the head with a new recipe? Thank you.
You know that other thing I’ve been praying for… Yeah, that one! Can you help with that too?
Damson Idris. I don’t need to explain.
Christian Allister. Yes omg, please.
Unstoppable consistency for my creative projects. Writing, YouTube, everything. If you have a sprinkle of patience to throw in too, that’d be perfect.
If you come through, I promise to leave out some jollof rice and zobo, if that’s your style. Trust I’ll be sleeping with one eye open looking out for you, and you better come through.
Thank you in advance, Santa.
Did you ask Santa for your book boyfriend😒?