One Good Lead…

God gave me a pencil.

It was chewed, the eraser bit was hardly there and there was only just enough lead to write a single day. The day I chose was December 25, 2012.

And the first end of the pencil I used was the eraser. I rubbed on lips galore and wiped out that word “Wash”. “Let’s wash it”, “When are we washing it?”, “Shey we are not washing today ni?” It was all gone. And not a moment too soon either. Yes, I had used the word pretty much myself, but I couldn’t still help but marvel how self-serving that word made one. Gone were the days when people did anything for anybody anymore. Instead it was always that person’s duty to ‘wash’ things. I can’t remember the last time I got a Christmas present or even a birthday present or even any present for that matter, it is just THAT rare. Although, I really can’t remember the exact last time someone has told me to ‘wash it’, it is just THAT frequent. My December 25, 2012 would however have none of that. On this one day, people would remember that the season was not about one’s self, but rather about ‘joy to the world’ and ‘goodwill to all mankind’.

I would draw Christmas trees in every home, with Christmas lights galore and even those annoying Christmas carol mimicking noises that tend to come with today’s Christmas ornaments. All of these are part of the commercial garbage that has numbed us all to the true message behind the Christmas phenomena itself, but hey… even the worst of commercial garbage does eventually find its place in the symbolic representation of what we know and mark as Christmas Celebration. So this one day, I will let it pass.

I will put my pencil to churches and write everyone to their homes. I will write father holding the hand of mother, mother holding the hand of son, son holding the hand of sister, sister with her arm about her father. I will write jokes, Christmas stories, the Christmas story, favorite family meals, laughter, music, bad singing, bad dancing, more laughter. I will write sleep in the sofas of the living room, I will write exhaustion in jubilation, I will write of a beautiful innocence that strengthens the bonds they call love.

Before they wake, I will go down with my eraser and take the ‘X’ out of ‘Xmas’. That oh-so-convenient little letter that takes out the one disturbing truth about the season*****.Yup, some baby dude of divine birth that sorta was born to die and resurrect to lead us all into death of the flesh and rebirth of the spirit and the purging of sins and blah-the-blah… Anyways, that guy to be here forward denoted as X was not actually born on December 25th. The debating intellectuals of long, deep, highly winded breath know this, and ensure that those of shorter breath know that they know this. But even so, we must accept that December 25th is the designated day to celebrate the birth of X. No debates. Yup, I’ve rubbed that out too. And, hang on; I rubbed out ‘X’ earlier on, didn’t I? Oh. Okay. Here goes. Christ. Christ. Christ. Whew! Easier than I thought.


And with that, I am rubbing out the bangers, knockouts, biscos, three-hit-combo-types, machine-gun-types and… I blow away the rubbings… and just like that… sanity is restored. People can walk the streets without fear, children can play in the streets, ears can take breather, and whoa that really took its toll on my pencil. I am running low and almost out of lead with much of the day still unresolved.

So, I write over the bad stuff in the newspapers, and put cute little J smileys on the faces all about and, for a day, everyone could forget the many troubles we live in and just be neighbors again.

Somehow, it seems I rubbed out the fireworks along with the bangermmunition barrage. So I used the last of my lead to draw the sky full of exploding rainbows of ‘wow’ and ‘awww’ and ‘Look, Daddy’ and ‘I wish this day would never end’.

And the pencil is used up. So I looked over December 25, 2012.

And I saw that it was good.

Sola Musoro,
Manager, Copy, at Centre Spread FCB.


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