Now that the love and light of the holiday season has fizzled away, can we all agree on one thing? Nigerians need a masterclass on the art of gifting. Why else would someone think it’s okay to wrap up an old bundle of Ankara fabric that’s been marinating in camphor for years? Why are you giving it out if you won’t go near it?
We asked a few people to share the worst gifts they received during the holidays, and their stories are proof that Nigerians are not serious people.
Bukky*
Since November, I’d been dropping gift exchange hints in the family group chat, and everyone agreed my suggestions weren’t bad ideas. So, I bought gifts for two of my favourite siblings, expecting them to get me something in return. I kept returning to the Christmas tree to see if my name was there, but nothing.
I held on to my gifts, assuming they were waiting for New Year’s. But when nothing showed up, I reluctantly gave my siblings their gifts. Everyone made casual jokes about how I took gifting so seriously. Moments like that make me wish I was born into a different family.
Derinsola*
I know my boyfriend meant well, but I can’t lie—I don’t like his Christmas gift. It was a designer bag from one of those high-end stores on the Island with an end-of-year sales promo. I think he remembered me mentioning the bag earlier in the year, which was sweet.
But the colour he picked was entirely off, and the bag had signs of wear and tear. It’s been sitting in my room since I unwrapped it because I don’t know what to do with it. Knowing my boyfriend, it’s only a matter of time before he notices I haven’t used it. I don’t want to seem ungrateful, but I also can’t pretend I like it.
Tunde*
To be fair, I didn’t go all out for my Secret Santa either—I gave a manicure and pedicure set worth about ₦10k. But the Ankara I got in return smelled so bad, even as a rag it stunk up my flat. I’ve tied it up in nylon and plan to give it to scavengers when they come around.
I’d have been upset if this had happened six years ago. But I’ve been in the corporate world long enough to know that Secret Santa is a scam. Never spend too much; the effort is rarely mutual.
Tola*
My big mummy hadn’t been to Nigeria in five years, so when she announced she was coming for Christmas, she asked what we wanted as gifts. I didn’t trust her taste, so I said, “Just a wristwatch.”
How could anyone go wrong with a wristwatch, right? Well, she gave me a Ben 10 wristwatch. Does she think I’m 10 years old? Anyway, I tossed it in my wardrobe. I’m sure it’ll come in handy as a birthday gift for one of my nieces or nephews.
Michael*
I’m not a pet person, but my cousin thought gifting me a kitten was a good idea. Don’t get me wrong; the kitten was adorable, but between work stress and Lagos traffic, the last thing I needed was to babysit a hyperactive pet.
When I asked why she chose a kitten, she said, “I thought it’d help you relax.” Relax how? Long story short, I sold the kitten and used the money to buy a power bank. My cousin doesn’t know yet sha.
Chika*
My office does a Secret Santa every year, and somehow, I always get paired with someone unserious. Last year, my colleague gave me a mug with my office nickname. I don’t even drink tea or coffee.
Meanwhile, I went all out and got her a skincare set because she was always complaining about her skin being dry. The worst part? She said, “I thought you’d find it funny.” I didn’t.
Alex*
It was my first Christmas at this fancy company, so I assumed Secret Santa would be top-tier. I bought my recipient an air fryer. But when I got my gift at the party, I knew disaster was waiting.
From the wrapping, I could tell it was a vase. I told myself, “Maybe it’s antique and worth a lot.” Nope. It was the most basic vase ever when I unwrapped it at home. I’m pretty sure it came from a declutter page. Secret Santa isn’t for me.
READ THIS NEXT: Love Life: She’s a Chronic Debtor, But We’re Giving Love a Second Chance
