Jollof, Stress and Village People: Christmas as a Big Aunty in Nigeria.

You know how when we were younger, we used to dream of growing up to become adults just so we could go to bed whenever we want and sleep whenever we want? We never actually realize just how ghetto that whole hood is until responsibility really starts to smack us in the face. Smack!

As a kid, Christmas had always been a time to just flex really. New clothes. New shoes. And lots of goodies that just showed up in the hands of my parents and their friends. And the jollof rice too! Never forget the jollof.

So imagine my surprise when in the twinkle of an eye, I’d suddenly become the Big Aunty who was supposed to buy gifts for the kids. And it’s just funny how right when it’s my turn to play aunty, everything is just expensive anyhow.

Here I was, struggling to manage my 50k a month in Lagos of all places and then December came knocking on the door. Besides the 20k I usually budgeted for transport every month, the rest of my salary was always used up by the 5th day. So, forget the gifts everyone was expecting from me. Tell me how I was supposed to survive at the end of the year when the prices of everything went up.

Well, I did manage to get toys and chocolate for my sister’s kids that December but the consequence was having to feast on garri the last few days before my next salary. The thrill of Christmas had somehow been replaced with stress but I didn’t notice just how bad it was until a year later, the cycle was being repeated. Only this time, things were even more expensive than they were the last time. Sure I was earning a lot more now, but the expenses only grew to complement. Bills, bills and more bills.

Now it wasn’t just my sister’s kids expecting Aunty Chinanza to bring them toys this year, there was mom and dad back in the village asking to see me. I didn’t want to visit empty-handed so here was a new challenge. Bearing these in mind, I was going into December already mentally stressed. After all, this was my chance to prove that I hadn’t made a wrong move by going into content writing after wasting 4 years in school studying to become a banker.

Stressed out as I was about the whole thing, I wasn’t at all surprised when the day after arriving at the village, my body just broke down . Trust Nigerians to attribute it to the work of “enemies” and “village people”, but I knew what it was. And the doctor confirmed it too.

It’s December again but things are different this time. Now when I get stressed, I don’t just keep it to myself. The rant room on the Nguvu Health app lets me voice out everything I’m feeling without any judgment whatsoever. *insert rant room mockup here*

What’s more? I get to do it anonymously and still find people who can relate to what I’m going through.

I bet this Christmas will be wayyyy better for me. Fingers crossed. Sign of the cross.

Does Christmas make you feel stressed out too? Rant on the Nguvu Health app to people who know what you’re going through.

Just download the app here right now.