Night would see us whipped into a frenzy of excitement. We just went berserk.
There would be an air of happiness all over. The excitement derived mainly from a sense of anticipation. On the eve we would even be allowed to play late into the evening. There would be a ceasefire on neighbourhood friction.
This allowed us to visit homes which all along we were forbidden to. There, we would play with our friends with whom we could only play in secret during times of neighbourhood strife. They too could come to play at our homes.
Such was the heady air of celebration. In the morning we would be up earlier than usual.
Our first task would be to chase the unfortunate fowl chosen as the sacrifice for the day. Having dispatched of the fowl we would complete all the other household chores at a blistering pace. Then we would bathe.
All the time we would be shrieking in delight, still intoxicated by the excitement of yesterday and the anticipation of what lay ahead.
The bathing was done more thoroughly. That done, we would smear ourselves with Vaseline. No matter how hot it was, our skins would be gleaming in the blazing sun.
For those who could get away without a haircut, we would apply sticky glycerine to our hair and comb it like never before. All clean, with gleaming faces and shiny hair, we would dress up. This was the only time when we could boast a completely new set of clothing from head to foot.
In vogue, at the time were cheap silky georgette shirts and crimpling pants. For us little gents, it was an incredible feeling to be fastening our belts.
Of course, underneath the crimplene trousers would be a new pair of underpants we would be so eager to show off to our mates. The attire would be completed by a pair of plastic shoes. If your parents had made the mistake of buying a pair a size too small, you just had to squeeze your feet in and make the best of the situation.
If the shoes were too big, then some stuffing would be found to make them more comfortable.
Some of the us even had jaunty little caps to round off the wardrobe. What would such a day be without bling? The more enterprising would be sporting wrist watches fished out of a lucky packet.
The girls would be wearing bracelets, also from a lucky packet. Nicely done, we would go to church to pay homage to the white bloke with sad blue eyes. The priest would remind us to be good children, and all the while with the guy who had caused all this activity would be watching us from the wall.
We would be impatient for church to finish. As soon as it was over, the fun would begin as we sauntered off on another round of visits in the neighbourhood. The idea was to display our new attire to the world.
Preening like baby peacocks, we were a riot of colour as we walked, grinning from ear to ear. Then we would return home for lunch. On this day, the fare on offer would be the sort of delicacies we spent the whole year fantasizing about.
The fowl we had slaughtered earlier in the morning would make its reappearance on our plates. In a family where there was only one boy child, he would get the head, complete with beak.
The choice parts of the chicken were the preserve of the grown ups. The chicken feet would be dished out to the kids.
Accustomed to eating two or three to a plate, on this day each would eat from their plate and do so at languid pace, savouring the taste of the food.
Also on the plate would be beetroot and pumpkin salad. At centre place was rice. To all this was added a dollop of tomato sauce and mayonnaise. Though we enjoyed unusual freedoms on this day, we were not permitted to touch the bottle of tomato sauce or mayonnaise. A grown up would determine the amount to be spread on each plate.
A right royal feast would ensue. Filled, and belching contentedly , we would move to dessert, which was jelly and custard. With our little bellies threatening to burst out of our georgette shirts, we would then have a drink of home made ginger beer.
Music would come from the vinyl record with the picture of a dog listening to the gramophone.
The dishes done, we would embark on a round of mischief making. This included hunting for discarded beer cans to drain off whatever remained of the drink. The more adventurous would even light up discarded cigarette butts. I think for many of us this was the beginning of an adult life lived in a haze of smoke and inebriation.
Fortified we would chase the pretty little damsels who would flee, only postponing the day we would meet again as teenagers. After a day of fun and feasting, we would go to bed with happy smiles on our faces, now streaked with dirt.
I am reminded of those days because the occasion of the birth of that man who watched us from his perch on the church wall, is fast approaching.
I am not sure if Christmas holds in thrall the kids of today as was the case with us. They would probably report their parents to the child welfare society were they ordered to chase and slaughter a fowl.
We did it with glee and relish. I am now a grown up man. But this Christmas I want to relive my childhood. I will wake up at the crack of dawn and take a bath. I will apply Vaseline to my face and glycerine to my hair. I intend to buy new clothes, and outfit myself from head to foot.
It has been ages since I went to church. My childhood priest will be shocked to see me saunter in, all gleaming face and shiny hair. I am sure the bloke with blue eyes and long blond hair will give me a wink from his perch on the wall.
I am going to find a live fowl, which I will slaughter with my own bare hands. It shall be cooked and I will dish for myself the head and the feet. I will have rice with beetroot and pumpkin salad. Then I will eat custard and jelly, and wash everything down with home brewed ginger beer.
Filled, and belching with contentment I will sleep with a happy smile on my face, listening to music from the vinyl record with the picture of a dog listening to the gramophone!
