Christmas Magic

By Mwizenge S. Tembo, Ph. D.                         Emeritus Professor of Sociology

We were a family of 9 living in the rural villages of Eastern Province of Zambia in Southern Africa. My father was a teacher earning $19.00 per month. The excitement about Christmas in our family and the surrounding communities started in late November as the first rains fell at the beginning of the growing season. In preparation for the special Christmas day meals, the day before Christmas, my father rode his Humber bicycle 5 miles or 8Kms. to the Dalala Store. When he returned, us children would race shouting “adada biza!” or “daddy has come!” to meet him as he unloaded his legendary brown briefcase. He gave us rice, a loaf of bread, tea leaves, a can of milk powder, a can of stork margarine, a large box of Jungle Oats, a pound of sugar, onion, cooking oil, tomatoes, and Madras curry powder. My father told us to take all of them to my mother.

Early on Christmas morning my mother and my sisters would make a fire in the small grass thatched roofed kitchen mphungu which Americans would call a gazebo. My mother would tell me to catch the large rooster. This was my job as the oldest boy to gladly chase the rooster with gusto with my younger siblings in tow. I slaughtered the rooster and gave it to my mother.

My two older sisters were attending the Kanyanga Catholic Boarding School where they learned Western domestic science. This is how my sisters baked goodies like fresh pawpaw fruit cake and sweet mango fruit jam from the fruit trees around our house. Breakfast was Jungle oatmeal, tea and bread with mango or pawpaw jam.

My mother cooked the chicken with Madras curry powder with onion and tomatoes. She went to the back of our house to uproot and dice the fresh chikasu bright yellow spice that she added  to the white rice, so it had a unique flavor and bright yellow color.

After breakfast we went to church with everyone wearing clean well-ironed clothes for Christmas day. After church we ate the big Christmas day feast of chikasu yellow spice rice with madras curry powder chicken. Since there were tons of ripe fresh mangoes in the house, the aroma of the delicious foods, mangoes, the laughter, the daddy jokes, the occasion was always so memorable and convivial that the day was so magical it felt like living in heaven on earth.

Durin the morning, a few individuals from the village would come and go one at a time. They would sing as they approached our house.

“Mrs Tembo!” they would shout with happiness and joy. “I want Christmas!!”

My mother would laugh and yell back: “Yes!! Isn’t Christmas such a great day!!!”

My mother was always ready. She would go to the house cupboard and get a bun and give it to the person. The man or woman would perform an impromptu jig, yell and laugh with glee and dance with joy as they took a bite out of the bun. We would laugh and enjoy the moment. So many strangers came to our house on Christman day because they knew my mother would give them a treat, however small.

After lunch in the afternoon, we would walk to the villages to watch traditional dances such as chimtali women dance, chitelele, Nyau men’s dance, muganda, and fwemba dances. Everyone was wearing bright colorful clothes and were in a celebratory mood. Young men and women danced vigorously. Some women had babies on their backs and danced gently swaying during the dances as the  thirty or more dancers moved their feet in a circle. The babies seemed to be always fast asleep as these women danced to the drumming and ululating.

My younger sister and I sometimes would stand by the road to watch the drunks who stunk of booze go by. They had bright red eyes and were riding bicycles while gently swaying side to side on the dirt road. My younger sister and I would laugh at Mr. Daniel who was dancing while moving his googly eyes side to side at the dancers  like a chameleon. Christmas magic always happened on Christmas day.

Six decades later, I often wonder why Christmas day was so magical in my family and perhaps the entire community of villages.

What made Christmas a magical day is that exactly the same couple of unique foods were cooked just on Christmas day only. We never ate some of those foods on any other day during the year. Foods were the special focus for the day, and not gifts. The focus was on church worship, community dances, food, laughter, joy, and generosity to others.