This morning, Christmas morning, I woke up feeling all kinds of nostalgic, like an old Christmas sweater that still fits just right. You know that feeling where a smell, a sound, or even a little chill in the air takes you right back to a specific time?
That was me today, thinking about all those beautiful Christmases growing up in Eket, a small quiet town in Akwa Ibom State. Christmas in Eket wasn’t just a holiday—it was an entire vibe, a season of joy, community, and delicious food that lingered in your soul long after the day was over.
Let me walk you through it.
Harmattan Mornings and the Church Runway
The day always started early, Harmattan making the air crisp enough to nip at your nose but not enough to stop us from slathering ourselves in petroleum jelly till we shone brighter than freshly polished shoes. My siblings and I would wake up excited to try on our new Christmas outfits—thank you, Mummy! The dresses were always stunning, and you’d swear my mom was competing in a mini fashion show because my siblings and I looked gorgeously dressed, and the excitement of seeing everyone else in their best made the day feel like a fashion show.
By 9 AM, we’d be off to Foursquare Gospel Church for the one-hour Christmas service. One hour, but oh, what an hour it was! Everyone showed up looking their absolute best, my friends, their parents, the choir in coordinated outfits to the ushers smiling like it was their birthday. Seeing my friends all dressed up, exchanging shy compliments, and sharing laughs set the tone for the day.
Church wasn’t just about looking good, though. The highlight for us kids was the gift exchange. A month before Christmas, names would be picked, and on Christmas morning, we’d bring gifts for whoever’s name we drew. The suspense of waiting for someone to call your name to hand over a wrapped package? Priceless.
A Feast Worth Waiting For
After church, it was straight back home to cook. Christmas in our house was a no-rice zone—at least for lunch. While other families dove into jollof or fried rice, my mom always went all out with pounded yam and soup. We’re talking efo riro, egusi, turkey, chicken, goat meat, just orishirishi everywhere. My dad? He was the shopping MVP, always made a pre-Christmas trip to Marina Market to grab yams, vegetables, and all the essentials for fried rice (which would make its appearance later in the day).
Now, let me tell you about our neighbor, Mr. Alagbe who never failed to send over goat meat and sometimes palm wine. The first time I tasted palm wine was courtesy of Mr. Alagbe, and let me just say, my taste buds weren’t ready for the experience.
The Legendary Christmas Nap
After the feast came the Christmas Nap. I’m talking about the kind of nap that only comes after a full belly and a morning packed with excitement. It was non-negotiable. You’d wake up feeling brand-new, like a reset button had been pressed.
Evening Guests and the Yoruba Connection
By evening, my dad would decide to host some friends, which meant round two of cooking. Just a handful of them say 10-15.
Now, here’s the thing about my dad’s guests—they weren’t just coming for the company. Oh no, they were coming for the iyan and correct soup that my mom was famous for and those guests knew they were in for a treat.
Eket is predominantly an Ibibio-speaking town, but we had a good number of Yoruba families around us. My parents’ cooking always gave our guests a taste of home, and it was something they looked forward to every year.
The guests would stay late into the night, and even though it was a lot of work, the warmth and joy they brought made it all worth it.
Boxing Day Love Feast: A Cultural Buffet
If Christmas Day was the reception, Boxing Day was the after party. My church hosted a love feast and it was always a communal potluck where every family brought a dish that reflected their culture. My mom always brought soups—egusi, ewedu, and her famous Ekuru—while other families brought rice, abacha, tapioca, Caesar salad, and Ekpang nkukwo.
It was at the love feast that I tried so many firsts: abacha, ekpang, tapioca. Each dish came with a story, a family’s history, and a piece of their heart. After the feast, we’d all head outside for a barbecue, singing Christmas songs and enjoying the cool evening air.
What Christmas Means to Me
This morning, I talked to my younger brother Prof, and we laughed about the memories. “Old things have passed away,” he joked, but honestly, we both agreed that those Christmases were some of the best times of our lives.
Looking back, those Christmases in Eket shaped my love for the holiday. From the Harmattan breeze and Bonny M’s Christmas songs on repeat to the smell of pounded yam wafting through the house, and the church community that made every celebration special, those memories are treasures I hold dear.
Even today, as an adult, I find myself wanting to recreate that magic—maybe not with pounded yam every time, but definitely with the love, warmth, and togetherness that defined Christmas in Eket.
I realise how much church shaped my Christmas experience. Foursquare Gospel Church Eket wasn’t just a place of worship, it was a hub of joy, belonging, and shared traditions. It’s where I learned the beauty of giving, through the gift exchange, and the power of community, especially during the Boxing Day love feast.
Our church community made every moment feel richer. The aunties who’d hug you tight and compliment your dress, the uncles who’d dash you cash, and the mummies who’d pile your plate high during the feast—all of them created a sense of home. Church wasn’t just about faith, it was about family, and that sense of belonging made Christmas in Eket unforgettable.
I hope to carry these Christmas traditions like precious heirlooms, passing them down to my own family someday, so they too can feel the warmth, love, and joy that made my childhood Christmas unforgettable.
Over to You
Now that I’ve shared my trip down memory lane, I want to hear from you. What were your childhood Christmases like? Did you have any quirky traditions, special meals, or moments that still make you smile? Let’s relive those memories together in the comments.
Merry Christmas! and here’s to beautiful traditions, cherished memories, and the hope of passing them on someday and may the rest of the month be filled with as much joy as those I experienced growing up in Eket.