This is the festive season, that period at the end of the year and the beginning of a new one, when joy, goodwill and generosity abound. This time, however, like last year, it is different. There isn’t much festivity, at least of the public sort. Blame Covid-19 for all that.

Still, we will say the customary things, wish everyone a merry Christmas and a prosperous new year. It is the standard way. It is after all a time to be happy and make merry, a time for families to get together and celebrate, especially considering that modern life has scattered us across the country and even around the world.

And so wishing one another well is the expected way. But this year, some might ask with good reason: what’s merry about this season, about Christmas of enforced separation or extra vigilance, with the fear of a dangerous virus constantly mutating into even more deadly variants? What can be exciting about the instinct or need to isolate, to be wary of others especially crowds, to develop an attitude of suspicion even if the intention is the preservation of self and others? With everything that goes against the spirit of carefree celebration, can you be merry?

The restrictions may be inevitable, actually necessary, but people will always find a way to express their feelings. They will strive to make merry when they are happy or to mourn when they are bereaved. The celebratory spirit may be constrained by circumstances, but cannot quite be dampened, just as the urge to express sorrow cannot be checked by an artificial atmosphere of cheer. It is the human way.

And so in Rwanda, and indeed in other places around the world, people living in the cities travelled upcountry in their thousands to be with family and friends during Christmas. Those who could not make it this time will surely do so for the new year. In this sense it was normal.

The churches were attended as usual, of course, within the limitations imposed by covid-19 prevention measures. Some had to put on additional services to accommodate those who could not get into the regular ones and the surge in numbers of worshippers on such days as many only go to church on important days. This was also largely usual.

This annual urban-rural migration, even if only for a short duration, says much about our cities and how we relate to them. On occasions like Christmas or New Year, people will always go to their villages upcountry, however difficult the circumstances may be. For many, the cities are not home. They are only places of temporary abode, for work or other livelihood reasons. Home remains the village. That is where the roots are and the soul is.

In parts of East Africa, the cities are in a sense foreign. The residential areas, commercial buildings and industrial complexes are largely foreign-owned. And so on days of family and social significance, the cities are left to their owners.

That is perhaps why in some countries they do not take much care of their cities.  Most people do not feel they have a stake in them.

Things are changing, though. There is a growing population for whom the cities are home, who have very little connection with the village.  We can expect a better relationship with their home. They will take better care of them.

Adversity sometimes presents unexpected opportunities. In this case, the family became a beneficiary of Covid-19 restrictions on public celebration. Christmas once again became an intimate family occasion, enjoyed at home in a familiar, warm and cosy environment. The closeness, even if it happens only once a year, must have helped to put relationships on the right track. Where bonds were coming loose the strings were repaired; where they had snapped, they were reconnected. Harmony is the thing, at least for the duration of the holidays.

What is perhaps missing from this season’s festivities is its public expression and the accompanying indulgence, sometimes excessive. In this sense places of public entertainment may count this as a bad season.

In the next few days, we will be repeating wishes for a happy and prosperous new year. What, when everything is down? Some will say in disbelief and think you are either mocking them or are mad, or only mouthing conventional social niceties out of habit, without giving it much thought.

Take heart, they are not mad or insensitive, those wishing you a great year ahead. Rwanda’s planners have promised us double-digit economic growth in the coming months. You have to believe it. Our officials are not in the habit of painting a rosy picture when the situation is actually bleak. They would rather not say a thing than deceive.

The passage of time, however, even with the promise of great things ahead, is not always universally welcome. Some complain that time seems to dash to the end rather than gently amble along in time with their own pace. You will hear them say: It’s new year’s day and before long it is Easter and commemoration of the genocide against the Tutsi, and then Liberation Day and shortly after Umuganura. And before you know it, it is Umushyikirano and Christmas and then the year ends. Just like that! In the blink of an eye!

Of course, it is not like that. The year is not in haste and a lot has happened. But too busy with the business of living or worried about the end, we hardly notice and say in disbelief: how time flies.

Others, much younger and eager to make their mark, fret that time is sluggish. They have things to do and quickly, perhaps aware of the fears of those older. But in time, they too will; bemoan its hasty passage.

Whatever one’s thoughts, particularly in the context of Covid-19, we must do well to learn from the Christian message of hope, and from Rwanda, the resilience of its people. We can still safely celebrate, responsibly, of course.

Season’s greetings to you all.

The views expressed in this  article are of the writer.