Ah, Christmas in Nigeria! Not your regular Christmas!
A time that even diasporian Nigerians start planning ahead for. You just need to visit Naija to understand and I am not just talking about the “Detty December”. Ask any Nigerian you know, how far!
It is that one time of the year when every corner of the country comes alive with vibrant celebrations, mouthwatering home-made food, and a little too much family drama. Whether you’re Igbo, Yoruba, Hausa, or from any other part of our diverse country, Christmas is a time for love, gratitude, and showing up in your finest attire—because let’s face it, who doesn’t want to win the “best dressed” title at the village square?
If you grew up in Nigeria, you know that Christmas isn’t complete without the legendary Christmas cloth. This isn’t just any outfit—it’s a carefully curated ensemble that announces, “I have arrived!” I used to look forward to it as a child and I remember being taken to Ariaria market every november or first week in december while growing up to buy Christmas dress, plastic glasses and plastic wrist watch. A time to be experienced, till I graduated to having tailored made clothes as Christmas cloth.
Tailors across the country know the drill: from November, they’re booked solid with orders for intricate Ankara, lace, or aso oke designs. But let’s be honest, there’s always that one tailor who promises delivery on the 20th of December but doesn’t deliver until the 26th—if at all.
For the Igbo family returning to the village (ime obodo), Christmas fashion is serious business. Women slay in elegant George wrappers and sequined blouses, their heads adorned with intricately tied gele that has well braided hairstyles underneath. Men, on the other hand, show up in well-tailored senator suits or traditional isi agu shirts, complete with red caps for the elders. It’s not just an outfit; it’s a statement. You must look like someone who has been working hard in “the city” (even if you’ve spent most of the year dodging rent payments).
Meanwhile, the Yoruba clan is not left out. From the shimmering lace iro and buba for women to the majestic agbada for men, Yoruba Christmas fashion is all about sophistication. And let’s not forget the fila (cap) that must sit at just the right angle—because if it doesn’t, your uncle will call you aside for a lecture on how to wear it properly.
For many Igbo families, Christmas is incomplete without the trip to the village. The journey itself is an adventure. First, there’s the epic packing. You’d think you’re moving permanently with the way cars are stuffed with bags of rice, confectioneries, gallons of groundnut oil, and crates of malt. Then there’s the traffic on the Onitsha Bridge—because what is Christmas without spending five hours trying to cross into the East? Oh the harmattan dust and chilly air that comes with those road trips!
Once you arrive, the festivities begin. Every day is a party: traditional dances, masquerade displays (Mmanwu), and endless bowls of isi ewu,nkwobi and other culture Igbo delicacies. Children run around chasing masquerades while adults catch up on family gossip. The highlight, of course, is the village meeting where elders give long speeches, and everyone tries to outshine each other with their outfits.
But let’s not forget the subtle competition. “Ah ah, Chinedu, is this the same Toyota Corolla you brought last year? Your mates are driving Benz o!” Or, “Ada, when are we meeting your husband? You know Nkechi has already done her second child’s dedication.” The pressure is real, but hey, it’s all love (we hope).
In Yoruba households, Christmas is a time for communal feasting and playful banter. The women wake up at dawn to start cooking: jollof rice, fried rice, ayamase( my favourite Yoruba dish), moin moin, and of course, the signature Yoruba party meat that’s fried to perfection. The men? They’re in charge of buying drinks, supervising the cooking, and loudly debating politics with uncles, older men they haven’t seen all year.Family gatherings are where the real fun happens. Aunties with eagle eyes will scrutinize every detail: “Tolu, why is your wife not pregnant yet? Or does she not like eba?” Then there’s always that one cousin who disappears when it’s time to wash plates but magically reappears when the drinks are being served.
And the outfits? Oh, Yoruba people don’t play! Matching aso ebi is a must, and if you’re lucky, your family will even hire a professional photographer to capture the slayage. The best part? Watching everyone strike dramatic poses for the camera, including your grandmother who suddenly becomes a fashion icon.
No matter your tribe, Christmas Day church service is a big deal in Nigeria. It’s where you debut your Christmas outfit and secretly judge others. Children arrive in shiny new clothes, shoes that squeak with every step, and hairstyles that took hours to perfect. Adults, on the other hand, go all out with their finest lace, Ankara, or aso oke.
The service itself is a mix of joyful carols, heartfelt prayers, fundraising, long eulogy speech, unnecessary Introductions and (let’s be honest) a bit of showing off. After all, how else will the congregation know that you’re doing well if your gele isn’t touching the heavens or your agbada doesn’t have 10 layers?
Christmas in Nigeria isn’t complete without the great jollof rice debate. Who makes it better—your mum or your aunt? Is the smoky flavor intentional, or did someone burn the pot? Either way, no Christmas meal is complete without this iconic dish, accompanied by fried chicken, plantain, and chilled drinks.
For the Igbos, the menu might also include ofe oha or ofe nsala or ofe Owerri with lots of blockages, while the Yorubas add ewedu and gbegiri to the mix. But one thing is universal: you must eat until you can’t move. It’s practically an unspoken unanimously accepted Christmas rule.
Of course, no Nigerian Christmas is complete without family drama. There’s the uncle who drinks too much and starts telling embarrassing childhood stories, the aunt who asks you why you’re still single, and the cousin who mysteriously borrows money and vanishes. But amidst the chaos, there’s always laughter, love, and the reminder that family is what makes Christmas special.Beyond the fashion, food, and festivities, Christmas in Nigeria is a time to reflect on our blessings and share with others. Many families visit orphanages, organize community feasts, or simply reach out to those in need. It’s a season of giving, not just in material things but in kindness, time, and love.
So, as you enjoy this Christmas season, whether in the bustling streets of Lagos, the serene villages of Enugu, or anywhere else in this vibrant country, remember to soak in every moment. Laugh at the drama, slay in your outfit, and most importantly, cherish the time spent with loved ones.
Merry Christmas, Naija! May your rice be smoky, your gele perfectly tied, and your heart full of joy.
