Holidays are supposed to be about bonding, love, and laughter. It’s that time when you reflect on pulling through a year filled with highs and lows. But if we’re being honest, a typical Nigerian family spending more than one or two days together is the perfect recipe for disaster. From endless arguments to unearthing long-forgotten beef, these Nigerians share the chaotic holidays that nearly tore their families apart.
Tunde*
My dad thought it was a brilliant idea to move all of us—immediate family, uncles, aunties, and cousins—into the family house in the village to ride out the lockdown together. At first, it was manageable. Everyone kept to themselves, and we only saw each other during meals. But after the first month, things began to unravel.
Old grudges between my uncles surfaced—one hadn’t forgiven the other for borrowing money and not paying it back. My aunties were arguing over who was using all the gas in the kitchen. But the height was when my uncle accused one of my cousins of stealing his expensive wristwatch.
The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. My cousin swore he didn’t take it, but my uncle didn’t believe him and threatened to call the police. We found the wristwatch under my uncle’s mattress two days later—he’d forgotten he kept it there. Did he apologise? Of course not. No one was on speaking terms when we left the village. That was the last time we tried a big family gathering.
Temi*
My family moved to the UK when I was 10, so I didn’t spend much time with my cousins in Nigeria. When we finally visited for Christmas, I was so excited. I imagined we’d pick up right where we left off as kids.
From the moment we arrived, though, things felt off. My cousins kept mocking me and my siblings for our British accents, saying we sounded like “oyinbo children.” I laughed it off at first, thinking they were joking. But things escalated when they started making racist jokes about my Black friends back in the UK.
When I told them it wasn’t funny, they called me too sensitive and said I’d become “too westernised.” My parents tried to mediate, but I was done. I haven’t visited ever since.
Bolaji*
My cousin decided it would be “fun” to combine Christmas and her wedding, thinking it would save money and ensure everyone could attend. Instead, it became a disaster.
The elders weren’t happy about the short notice, especially my uncle, who had been footing most of the bills. He felt disrespected and threatened to pull his support. Then, there was drama between my cousin and her sister, who accused her of stealing the spotlight by announcing her pregnancy during the wedding prep.
On the day itself, my mum and another aunt got into a fight over how traditional the ceremony should be, and guests had to pick sides. By the time the wedding was over, half the family wasn’t speaking to each other. To this day, that Christmas is a sore spot in the family.
Anita*
My family has always been a mix—Catholics, Pentecostals, and people who don’t “do religion.” Every year, we’d all attend crossover service together, even if some of us weren’t big on church.
That year, my atheist cousin refused to come, and my aunt lost it. She called him a disgrace and said he was disrespecting the family. Then she decided it was the perfect time to accuse my mum of not raising us to be “proper Christians.”
By the time service ended, everyone was furious. My mum was angry, my cousin stormed off, and my uncle refused to speak to anyone. Since then, I don’t think we’ve done crossover service as a family.
Yemi*
My mum and her sister have always been competitive about their cooking. I thought hosting Christmas at my house would ease the tension, but it only worsened it.
Both insisted on cooking the jollof rice, which became a battle of egos. My mum went heavy on the pepper, and my aunt added too much oil. When one of my cousins joked that both batches tasted off, they took it personally and started yelling at each other in front of everyone.
They both left in anger, and I was stuck with two pots of Jollof no one wanted to eat. That was the first and last time I hosted Christmas dinner.
Chinedu*
My mum loves hosting, so when some relatives said they wanted to spend Christmas with us, she happily agreed, even though we didn’t have enough space. She told my siblings and me to sleep on the floor so they could have the beds.
At first, it wasn’t a big deal. We all thought it was just for a night or two. But by the third day, it was clear they weren’t leaving anytime soon. I was tired of waking up with back pain and sharing cramped sleeping spaces. My younger brother got fed up and said, “If I sleep on this cold floor one more night, I’m moving to my friend’s place.”
Things got worse when one of our visitors overheard us complaining and told my mum they didn’t feel welcome. My mum scolded us for being ungrateful, but we were too frustrated to care. The relatives eventually left after a week, but not before making us feel like villains in our home.
Uche*
In our family, knockouts and fireworks are a Christmas Eve tradition. The kids love it, and the adults sit back and watch with amusement. But one year, things went wrong.
My cousin Chuka* and his younger brother were lighting knockouts when one of them exploded too soon. Chuka’s hand got burnt, and his brother got hit by a stray spark. It was chaos. The kids screamed, the adults panicked, and my aunt blamed my dad for not supervising them properly.
To make matters worse, Chuka’s mum insisted on taking them to a private hospital immediately, even though my dad said the burns weren’t severe. She claimed we were negligent and accused us of not caring about her kids. It turned into a huge argument, with my mum yelling that my aunt was overreacting.
The tension ruined the rest of the holiday. My cousins left the next morning, and we haven’t done fireworks since. Even now, we avoid talking about that Christmas because it brings up too many bad memories.
Lara*
My family loves doing Secret Santa during Christmas. It’s usually a lot of fun, but my uncle ruined it one year. The idea is to buy thoughtful gifts within a budget, but my uncle gave his Secret Santa a leftover corporate souvenir—a water bottle with a company logo on it.
The recipient, my cousin, was so offended that she called him out in front of everyone, saying he was lazy and cheap. My uncle clapped back, saying the family was full of ungrateful people who didn’t appreciate free gifts.
It escalated into a full-blown argument, with my cousin storming off and my uncle refusing to participate in any more family activities that year. The drama was so intense that we didn’t do Secret Santa the following Christmas. Till today, my uncle insists he did nothing wrong, and my cousin refuses to speak to him. That was the end of “fun family traditions” in our house.
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