We had been rehearsing for weeks, although I had no clue what it all meant and for what occasion.

But from the repeated motions day in day out, I figured out some pieces of the puzzle : it was a play about a baby who was to be visited by shepherds. Who this baby was and why we had to visit him, I had no clue. Everyone attached seriousness to what we did, and I wouldn’t stand out.

Then one day mother said, “Take these extra pair of clothes. You’ll need them.”

It was an evening. Couldn’t tell what day of the week it was. To my young mind, all the days were either a day we went to school or not. Whatever names they had individually were too large for the 5kb memory chip in my brain to store and distinguish.

On the day mother gave me those extra pair of clothes neatly wrapped in a polybag, it had been one of those days we were at home many days without school. Every child was at home. And they said the long awaited Christmas wasn’t far.

We trekked the dark bushy path, following closely the footsteps of papa who led with a lantern.

From afar, we could hear the generator and the brilliance emitted by the long light bulbs. On long poles were hanged speakers that looked like giant funnels.

The sight of  bright lights stood all the excitement bumps in my body to attention. Joy!

When we arrived at our place of worship, I noticed the insects, as usual , buzzing around the lights. Sometimes the lights attracted frogs and snakes, but this particular meeting place was in the heart of the community where there were fewer snakes.

In the course of the singing and dancing and prayers that followed, there was this moment where some benches were placed in front of the pulpit.

“The children have a play for us!“ an elder in the community announced in my mother tongue.

It was then I understood what we had been rehearsing all this while was for.

” Hurry!” my Sunday school teacher beckoned. I stood up with my extra pair of clothes and joined the rest in the little chapel nearby where we were to change.

“You are the shepherds.” one of the Sunday school teachers, a female, reminded us, as she sang for the last time the song we were to sing as we approached the toy baby held by Kojo and Ama who were now to be addressed as Joseph and Mary.

Some people went first. We heard their voices but couldn’t see what they were doing. Then came the moment I and my friends were asked to go and hand some gifts to “Joseph and Mary” amidst singing, holding long staffs. This we did with very serious faces.

At the end of it all, the gathering was pleased, as they clapped and cheered. We all came out in our numbers to hold hands and bow to the crowd.

End of the play.

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