A Not-So-Merry Christmas.

“Harmattan: a very dry, dusty easterly wind on the West African coast, occurring from December to February.”

Christmas. A time for loved ones, far and near to find their way back home.

Christmas. A time of dry lips and ashy skin. A time dust crowns the hairs of men and women, sparing no exposed surface. It is a time for Harmattan to grace us with its winds to mark the yuletide season and caress our noses with the unique scent of the Sahara desert.

A week before Christmas, I woke up sweating. The days had gotten scorchingly hot, making cold baths a dear friend. That was abnormal for the middle of December. Where was the Harmattan we knew and grew up with?

The one that made you think twice about leaving the warmth of your bed? The same one that had me counting down more times than I care to remember before I begrudgingly slapped water on my skin to keep it clean. It didn’t matter that the water would sting me when it kissed my skin because of the temperature. That never saved me from the frosty bites Harmattan had waiting for me after the warmth from the water evaporated.

I have experienced numerous changes in my lifetime. The shifts in weather patterns and temperatures are some of such changes. Experts say it has something to do with climate change. The climate change that I have heard world leaders talk about, but didn’t pay attention to because it sounded like a foreign issue. Now, it’s in Nigeria and it’s messing with my beloved Harmattan. The one thing that brings the expression “Christmas is in the air” to life. Things are changing too fast, too soon and I’m struggling to keep up.

The knowledge that we are the main drivers of this unappreciated change doesn’t help the nostalgia tugging at my chest. I miss the cold dewy mornings I grew up with. The absence of Harmattan and sudden change in the weather doesn’t bring the yuletide season to life. Christmas is Harmattan and Harmattan is Christmas. They go hand in glove. They always have and should always do.

My Christmas cheer isn’t as cheery as it was a few years ago. No, it has nothing to do with adulthood, because I still get excited when I see a rainbow or hear an aeroplane flying in the sky. The lack of Harmattan has affected the Christmas cheer because, for some reason, it doesn’t feel like Christmas is here.

P.S.: I wish you a very Merry Christmas, beloved reader.💜

Ignore the title and take this to the bank.