My Christmas blues

Christmas is the day we cerebrate the birth of our Lord Jesus Christ with the attachments, holiness and joy. I don’t mull over this big day, you know I have little business with the church. But this time I decided to walk around and see how my people like it; but guess what it turned out to look like. I started my journey in the infamous Migina quarter where the spirits were already high with booze by 9:00 in the morning. There was this guy who lay at the floor motionless, full of liquor. He had started the drink on the eve of Christmas to cerebrate the birth of the savior- cynical! On leaving Migina, I met my old buddy in cheerless moods, from checking on bed-ridden brother in the hospital. The lad had been knocked almost to death by a group who wanted to snatch his sweetheart, too bad! I wondered whether the Jesus wished to see all this happen on his birthday. It was lunch by now and so decided to drop at my sister’s, maybe take her for a cuisine. She turned down my offers because Christmas shopping had drained her purse and made her sick. Jesus’ birthday also leaves guys in personal econ depressions? I hated it the more. I regarded myself a Wiseman for keeping myself indoors every last 25th day of the year. I had to let my sissy sleep and try my girl’s phone for a cool evening at some gardens; guess what her answer was “I am sorry we can’t go on with this coz I met my eternal boyfriend Jesus, today.” Damn it! It’s Christmas again. Okay girl. I went home for a cold shower and a deep sleep but, ruckus!-my young brother was at the police station for Christmas day kavuyo. I rushed off to the police boys but it was already late. He had to be behind bars for Boxing Day. This time my head was weighty and so, decided to drop the snag and go for a drink, then dancing. My first stop was at one of my favourite spots of all time, ‘Mama Boy’s Kabenzi’. A small guy was puffing from the counter to my discomfort. He didn’t heed my warning so I decided to throw him out, but it became rough-hour for me. I found myself on the floor and guys around told me how he had punished me ghost-style. It was late by now and I decided to go to church to pray and maybe be saved from a hazy day, but forgot that the church door is locked after service. This is what I call tragedy and where I am, the defining moment I realized that I made a mistake when I stepped out of my cabin in the first place, yet this is one day I have to stay in bed dreaming. I have to say sorry to myself and never to mess again with Christmas Day. The small boy at KBC, I don’t wish to see him again. It was past midnight, so I had to crawl back to my crib and maybe see what awaited me on Boxing Day. I have no bias for Boxing Days. Ends