How I spend my Christmas Eve

Christmas Eve always feels like a warm up act to the big celebration and last year I decided to turn the kitchen into a little festival.

I woke up early, the air was still cool and we did our normal routine by praying and cleaning the house.

My first move was to make a fire, i used a local method, using a charcoal stove, then put water in a bowl, washed my rice and boiled it, because why not give it a festive twist? While the grains soaked, I chopped onions, garlic, and a handful of fresh peppers, letting the sizzle fill the room. A splash of palm oil, a pinch of thyme, and a dash of curry powder gave the rice that golden glow and a hint of spice that makes everyone smile.

Once the rice was cooking, I set out a modest spread of fried plantains, boiled eggs, and a simple tomato salsa. I wrapped portions in aluminum foil, labeling each with a cheerful “Merry Christmas!” sticker. By mid morning, the rice was fluffy, the kitchen buzzing, and my phone buzzed with messages from neighbors asking if they could stop by.

I grabbed the parcels and stepped out onto the dusty street, the sun now high but the breeze still gentle. Kids ran past, laughing, while elders sat on stoops, waving. I handed out the rice packets, sharing stories of past holidays and swapping wishes for a prosperous new year.

Laughter echoed as someone tried a spoonful and declared it “the best Christmas rice ever.”

By evening, the street was lit with lanterns, music floated from a neighbor’s house, and the scent of my rice lingered in the air. It wasn’t just a meal.

It was a reminder that the best gifts are the moments we share. As the night deepened, I headed home, heart full, already planning this year’s menu.