Dear Friends,

I continue to wish you all a Happy and Prosperous New Year 2025. We are already two weeks into the new year. BUT, as I reflected on the events of the past couple of weeks, I found myself going back to the Christmas we have just celebrated. As I did so, I realized that it has been years since this month of January found me in the country, and perhaps that is what triggered this reflection. For many years, I celebrated the first of January in Uganda with my family and friends. So, I found myself thinking about the events surrounding Christmas and my past experiences of it in my village. Hence, the title of this article.

As I reflected on my Christmas experiences this festive season, I recall watching the faces of my nephews and nieces glowing with excitement as they opened their “Christmas” gifts, which I usually brought for them in January. Their excitement is just contagious! I couldn’t help but reminisce about my own childhood as I recall that. I never received gifts like they do now from their American uncle, yet I always felt loved.

I remember from my childhood that gifts were not wrapped in shiny and colorful papers as they are these days, both now in Africa and here in our country. Instead, the animals, goats, cows, and chickens that we raised paid the ultimate price with their lives in the place of these. It was a tradition that at Christmas, a cow was often slaughtered in a communal gathering, as were goats, chickens, and sheep. I lost count over the years of how many were slaughtered, to the delight of us children, because it was about the only time in a year when everybody, rich or poor, had an opportunity to eat meat and rice. So as children, we were always filled with anticipation and joy, sharing the meat with neighbors, friends, and other households in the village. Nobody on Christmas day needed any invitation to partake in a meal. You simply joined and ate wherever you found people eating.

The Christmas lunch especially was an extraordinary feast, one that everyone in the community enjoyed together. People ate to their heart's content while singing, drumming, dancing to traditional music, and washing down their food with local alcoholic beverages deep into the night. To this day, the scent of burnt hair reminds me of those days when we smoked the cow’s head and hooves after Christmas. We would also cut trees from the forest, transforming them into Christmas trees. I recall the task of climbing, cutting, and transporting the trees often fell to the boys, and we did it with energy and excitement.

December was also the time for the new rice harvest, which was a must-have dish for Christmas in every village. The village women would harvest, dry, sort, and prepare the rice ahead of Christmas and preserve only some as seeds for the next season. The fresh rice had a unique, sweet taste that is incomparable to anything else I can recall. This, for us, marked the true end and beginning of a new year. Looking back, I realize that the festive experience of my youth was far more enriching than the expensive wrapped gifts we see today. It was about the people, about community, and the lasting memories we built together. Don’t get me wrong, I still enjoy getting gifts as I did this past Christmas, and I am grateful for them. I am only sharing this to give you just another perspective. Christmas still remains a time for giving and receiving gifts.

That is why now, as an adult and as an American of Ugandan origin, I smile when I see our own children here celebrating Christmas with the same enthusiasm as the children in Uganda. As we have just concluded the Christmas season, let us remember that it is not just the gifts but the memories we are creating that will matter years from now. That is why some of us traveled hundreds or thousands of miles to celebrate with extended family and friends. As we conclude this season, let us continue to teach our children that Christmas is about God’s greatest gift of His son to us and, therefore, teach them about generosity and sharing with others throughout this year. As for me, even now, as an American, I have realized that Africa is still deeply embedded in me. Africans are a communal people, and they celebrate together as brothers and sisters and pass on this culture from generation to generation.

I love you!

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