The Ghost Santa

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The aroma of freshly fried beef filled the kitchen as the harmattan haze filled the
outside. Amaka sat at the dining table, pouring warm water into mugs to make early morning chocolate drink for herself and her parents. Across from her, her mother busied herself with making
sandwiches by spreading loaves of bread with butter, occasionally glancing at her daughter, whose face looks thoughtful.

“My dear, just say it, I know there’s something on your mind.” her mother asked, setting the knife on the table.

Amaka hesitated before answering, a small smile escaped her lips. “It’s about this Ghost Santa. Everyone in this community has been talking about him .. or them.”

“Oh?” her mother said, pulling out a chair to sit. “What happened? What has been going on?”

Amaka took a sip of her warm chocolate drink and began. “See mom, it started about two weeks ago. I can’t believe you’ve not heard about it. I came home one evening and found a package on the doorstep. No name, no sender. I just found a little card that said, ‘For someone whose smile brightens the world more than she realizes.”

Her mother’s brows lifted. “Really, that’s amazing. What was inside?”

“A pair of shoes,” Amaka said, gesturing toward the corner of the room where she placed the sneakers. “It was the exact one I’ve been eyeing for months but couldn’t afford. It was as if someone had read my mind.”

Her mother smiled softly. “That’s very thoughtful of them. Do you have any idea who sent it?” She said feeling more intrigued.

Amaka shook her head. “No. But it wasn’t just me.” Amaka chuckled and continued “Mrs. Oma across the street got a basket of fruits and vegetables with a note that said, ‘Because every dining table deserves a feast.’ Mr. Chike, the welder, found a set of tools he’d been saving up for outside his shop. Even baby Tolu, Mrs Chidi's last child, got a couple of cans of baby formula and diapers in a baby walker that his mom has been trying to get.”

Her mother’s hands tightened on the mug she was holding. “That’s beautiful. Whoever this is must know the people well and truly care about the community.”

“That’s what everyone’s saying too,” Amaka said.. “But no one knows who it is. And these aren’t just random gifts, Mom. They’re personal. Thoughtful. It’s like this

person knows exactly what everyone needs. It feels like the person is so close to everyone or has been watching and stalking.”

Amaka leaned forward, her voice lowering as if sharing a secret. “I tried to find out who it might be. I asked around, I went to Mrs. Oma, Mr. Chike, even Mrs. Chidi, Tolu’s mom but no one has seen anything.
It’s like the person is a ghost.” “ I’m low-key scared to wear the sneakers, mom.”

Her mother chuckled. “They must be a very generous ghost, I think.”

“Exactly,” Amaka said, exhaling. “At first, I thought maybe it was someone rich who wanted to show off, but it doesn’t seem like it anymore. Even the notes…” She reached into her bag and pulled out the small card that came with her gift. “They’re handwritten. You can feel how intentional this person is.”

Her mother took the card, reading it aloud. “‘For someone whose smile brightens the world more than she realizes.” She looked up at her daughter with pride. “ Not a single word is out of place there, you know. Your smile does brighten the world.”

Amaka rolled her eyes, though blush was all over her cheeks. “Mom, let’s debunk this. The point is, this isn’t about me. It’s about someone out there who’s doing all these without asking for anything in return. How can someone be so selfless? The first and last time I ever saw this was in a movie.” “Or is the person doing giveaways as Christmas gifts?” She raised her left eyebrow like she’s seen the light and continued “Even though..”

Her mother tilted her head thoughtfully. “Maybe they’ve seen enough of the world’s hardship and decided to be kind in their own little ways. My daughter, sometimes, it’s the people who’ve been through the most hardship that really understands how it feels to need something and can’t afford it. So, they end up giving the most too.”

“Hmmm..” Amaka’s curiosity softened into a warm admiration. “I don’t think we’ll ever know who they are,” she admitted. “But whoever they are, I hope they know that they’ve started something incredible because people in the community are leaving little anonymous gifts for each other now. It’s like a trend, they’ve inspired all of us to be better.”

Her mother smiled.

Amaka nodded, convincing herself as she spoke “Maybe we don’t need to know who the ghost Santa is. We just need to keep doing what they started.”

That evening, as Amaka walked home from the market, she noticed a small package waiting by their neighbor’s gate. Inside was a folded blanket and a note; “For the nights that feel colder than usual.”

She smiled, pulling her bag properly on her shoulder, it contained a little gift she had bought for one of her neighbors. “Somewhere in this city, Ghost Santa is still at work.” she murmured as she walked away.