I stooped barefoot on the cold concrete floor, my face buried in the smoke from the firewood stove, which clouded my sight. The peppery feeling it gave to my eyes made me tear up. However, I was motivated by the aroma of fried rice and fried chicken wafting through the entire kitchen from the big pot.
That was Christmas life in the village for me. Stressful but peaceful, nothing like the constant buzz of Lagos life.
I could hear my Dad and his age grade laughing in our compound over palm wine and stock fish garnished with peppered sauce. A valued delicacy for the older men folks. And inside the house was the voice of my brother singing along to Osadebe's music, banging on the speakers. A typical village feeling, exactly what I needed after months of working late and endless deadlines. I was loving it every bit of it.
I blew some air into the firewood to bring it back to life. Then I smiled, I was happy I had escaped Lagos for a few weeks. Thanks to Mrs Adejo who approved my leave at the last minute, giving me the chance to breathe again.
Satisfied with the life I had given to the fire, I got up from the floor and dumped myself on the wooden beach chair Papa had said belonged to his father. I let my head bend back as I gazed at the blackened wall of the kitchen. Thanks to the smoke from the firewood. I was so tired from cooking, but I was comforted by the fact that there were going to be no emails, late hours or deadlines after cooking. It was just going to be the faces of the people I love, food and the warmth that comes with the season.
But then there was one email.
I had seen it just before I left Lagos for the village. It was from our biggest client. It dropped with the word "Urgent" marked on it. But I was so deep in the Christmas spirit that I brushed it off and didn't even care to open it.
I didn't need something that would mess with my Christmas, just like last year. I had it all planned out that my laptop would be the last thing I would open on Christmas, not to talk of attending to work emails.
I made myself promise that I'd pretend I didn't see it and only attend to it after I was back in Lagos.
Just then my phone rang. I glanced at the screen, and it was Kemi, my colleague, calling. Sadly, her leave wasn't approved but she was given a few days break from work to celebrate Christmas.
I smiled as I picked up my phone and answered her call
"Hello, sweetheart", I teased her.
"Madam, madam" she teased back. "I hope you're having fun and enjoying every bit of this holiday with your leave?"
I let my lips curl into a smile. "I am okay, o. In every possible way. Although they tried to trick me into opening an email marked urgent just as I was about to leave Lagos".
"Did you open it?"
"My dear, I didn't open it; there's nothing like work for me this Christmas", I said, proud of myself.
I heard Kemi laugh at the other end of the phone. Then she paused abruptly "Wait, did you say it was marked urgent?" She asked.
"Yes, imagine the trick", I replied, still beaming with smiles.
"No Zee, don't you think you should check it?" She asked her voice a bit serious.
"Kemi, why should I?" I asked back playfully
"Such emails marked urgent are usually important. I'm just saying, a stitch in time saves nine. This time it could be saving you a query or even your position at work".
"Girl, just leave work. Let's talk about something else." I quickly shoved that discussion aside and Kemi never brought it up again.
We spoke about other things and our tiny secrets. Giggling and chuckling, while I relieved my happy moments, Kemi reeled in what she was missing.
A few days later, I sat with my family in the sitting room. The jokes went round just like the food and drinks. Everyone was happy and I was too. Until a call came into my phone.
It was Mrs Adejo and I swore not to pick. I was still in the holiday spirit and needed no one to spoil it. But my cousin noticed me glancing at my phone at intervals and asked.
"Are you not going to answer that?" She asked.
"It's my boss. Must be work, and I'm not interested," I blurted out angrily like she hit a bad nerve with that question. But I was only transferring my aggression on her and I felt sorry immediately.
"Hey, calm down. It seems like you have another job stashed somewhere already waiting for you," she added with a squeezed face, then she turned back to watching the TV.
I looked at my phone to Dera and back to my phone again. Then when the call came again, I answered it. And just as I had feared it was an angry boss who was yelling about how I had ignored an important 'urgent' email.
"But, ma'am, I didn't think that I'd be working while I was still on leave", I stammered. My hands shook, and my voice shook. I tried masking the fear brewing in my stomach.
"Zerah, you claim to be a team player and as a team player that email was marked 'urgent'. The least you could have done was open it and maybe delegate it to another colleague at work, not hoard it in your email!" She yelled. "You have left us in a very difficult position, and we nearly lost that client", she added.
In a soft voice, I apologised. "I'm sorry, ma'am", I whispered.
"You'll have to say that to my superiors yourself when you're back. But be rest assured, a query is waiting for you" Then she hung up before I could say another word.
I stared at my phone absent-mindedly. "What have I done to myself?" I muttered, frozen and cold not from the harmattan breeze but from what just happened.
Dera turned to face me. "Now, imagine you didn't answer that call. That'll be double your punishment"
"Were you eavesdropping on my call?" I asked instead.
"Your phone was too loud. I could hear a pin fall. But that's not the issue. Now, what are you going to do" she asked, concerned.
I stared blankly at the wall, "I don't know. I had been so lost in the festivities and laughter. In Osadebe’s songs and the aroma from the kitchen—that I convinced myself nothing else mattered".
Dera rubbed my back. "I know that feeling too."
The holidays are over, and I'm back in Lagos with its sea of chaos. Trust me when I say the bus ride back to Lagos was unbearable for me as Mrs Adejo's words kept replaying in my head. I kept wondering what I was going to get.
Walking into the office that very morning, I met Kemi, who felt pity and concern for me and never tried to play the 'I told you so' line on me.
I got working, trying to act like nothing happened but my countenance steadily betrayed me
Minutes later, I was summoned into the conference room, facing not just my boss but a host of other superiors. I held my breath with every step I took to the room. I got to the conference room and was met with serious faces. I greeted them with a short bow.
"Zerah, here's your query. We hope you understand the gravity of what you did. We nearly lost a key client we entrusted in your care" It was Mrs Adejo who spoke first, handing me an envelope.
"Yes ma'am" I nodded. My breath trembling " It was a poor judgment call on my part and I deeply regret it" I replied
Suddenly I watched as Mrs Adejo's eyes softened. "You're lucky you're one of our best employees, Zerah. And I've pleaded your cause with my superiors here. I made them understand how the beauty of Christmas can make us forget about every other thing. And luckily for you, they reduced your punishment. Just know that you're not getting any bonuses this month."
I nodded again. "I understand, ma'am".
Mrs Adejo looked from me to other people in the room and asked "I believe that will be all for now. Don't let this repeat itself again. You're dismissed."
I took another bow and left the conference room. My burden felt a little lighter. I was lucky this time but might not be lucky the next time. Just as Kemi had said "A stitch in time saves nine," I was going to make sure to live by it.