It was usually the most wonderful time of the year. But this year, long before she heard about the witch, Dara already felt differently. She had been since she received her NYSC call-up letter three weeks ago. And so, as she listened to her cousin, Ifiok, recount his witch encounter, Dara only had one thought. She hoped the witch’s presence would cut this year’s holiday short.

Ifiok showed a video of a black cat in their late grandfather’s obituary shirt to everyone walking past the veranda. He claimed he saw an old woman transform into the cat under the pear tree and quickly recorded it. Although the video contained neither the old woman nor the transformation itself, everyone watched in concern, except Nosa, who burst into laughter. 

Dara and Nosa had met the day before when her family arrived at the village and went to greet her father’s childhood neighbour, Barrister Aniebiet. Barrister Aniebiet had recently relocated to the UK where he had met and married Nosa's mom and he brought his new family to the village for the holidays. Dara and Nosa's meeting was brief though, as Dara had faked a cough and left when Barrister Aniebiet brought up her posting.

“Are you taking the piss?” Nosa asked Ifiok with a smirk.

“Why I go piss for witch?” Ifiok hissed and walked away. Nosa spotted Dara on the wooden bench by the veranda and smiled as he walked up to her.

“When Mr Aniebiet said I could hang here if I was bored, I wasn’t expecting this much entertainment,” he said, sitting on the bench.

"What Ifiok is saying is very possible. Maybe there aren’t witches in UK but we have them here,” Dara explained.

“Nah, this has nothing to do with the UK. That guy’s lying,” Nosa said. He told her he had found the obituary shirt in his room earlier and was going to throw it out when he saw a black cat and thought it would be funny to dress it up.

“So there’s no witch?” Dara asked. 

“You sound disappointed,” he said.

“It wasn’t funny,” she said.

“And what would you find funny?” he asked. Dara watched as Ifiok continued narrating what she now knew as a lie. There was no witch, which meant she would be here till January 2nd.

“Doing something creepy that would make people think the “witch” was back,” she said. Silence filled the air and Dara turned around to see Nosa, staring at her, his beard and moustache raised upward in a smirk. 

“I’m just joking,” she quickly added and got up and left before he could say anything. The holidays were bad enough without Nosa thinking she was as crazy as Ifiok and possibly telling Barrister Aniebiet. And so, when she woke up the next day, the last thing Dara expected to hear from Ifiok’s younger sister, Idy, was that the witch was back. 

There was an obituary shirt hanging from the second branch of the pear tree and a few people were already gathered when Dara got there. Ifiok told them he saw when the cat returned the shirt and had even tried to fight it off. No one seemed to notice this was a different shirt as it was much larger than yesterday's. Except Dara, who burst into laughter and pretended to be coughing when people turned to her. 

“Don’t laugh. What he’s saying is very possible,” she heard Nosa’s voice behind her and the two chuckled as they moved away from earshot.

“I can’t believe you did that,” she laughed.

“Well, you said it would be funny and who am I to deny you a laugh?” he shrugged, smiling at her. Dara watched as Ifiok’s mother, Aunty Edidiong, approached the gathering and loudly scolded Ifiok for playing around before dragging him off to kill some cows. Dara sighed in disappointment. If Aunty Edidiong wasn’t taking this seriously, her parents definitely wouldn’t. She needed to keep going. 

“You know what else would be funny?” she asked and Nosa gave her a curious look.

“There’s some paint in the store. If you got that and painted something like “LEAVE” on the tree. I'm sure people’s reactions would be hilarious,” she said and he laughed.

“Okay, but that's a two-person job. I almost got caught climbing that tree this morning,” he said.

And so, at 2 am the next morning, while everyone was asleep, Dara was standing in front of the dusty store room in her grandparent's village house, keeping watch, while Nosa was inside, getting the bucket of paint. He was about to lift it when Dara suddenly ran into the room.

“Someone’s coming,” she whispered and grabbed him to hide behind the stack of plastic chairs. A few seconds later, two pairs of footsteps entered the room.

“Sorry ehn, but people dey my room and your house too far,” they heard a male voice say and Dara and Nosa recognised it immediately. A female voice responded that she was fine with the location, adding that she didn’t mind going anywhere with a brave man who fought witches. The two started kissing and took off their clothes. After 17 busy minutes, they put their clothes back on and left the room.

“At least now I know what he gets from lying,” Nosa said as they came out of hiding and went to the window to get some air.

“I’ve been scarred,” Dara laughed.

“Me too. We probably deserve that for being the Bonnie and Clyde of ruining Christmas,” Nosa said and Dara stopped laughing. For a short while, all that could be heard was the sound of crickets.

“My Christmas was ruined before I even came here. I was trying to save it by going home early,” she said as she leaned by the window sill.

“Does this have anything to do with your NYSC?” he asked, leaning beside her. She looked at him in surprise. 

“You seemed annoyed when Mr Aniebiet brought it up even though he kept saying you got lucky with your posting,” he rubbed the back of his head as he spoke like he was embarrassed to tell her he had noticed. Dara thought it was endearing that he had.

“Every uncle and aunty and cousin here keeps saying that. Meanwhile, I can't go anywhere in that small Uyo without running into people from my church or my secondary school or uni,” she said, placing her right hand on the window sill.

"NYSC was supposed to be my chance to leave. I spent a lot of money trying to get posted to Lagos and some more trying to get redeployed, yet, I’m still stuck here,” her voice was shaky as she spoke and she could feel her chest getting heavier. Nosa placed his right hand on hers and Dara felt lighter.

“I know a little bit about how you feel,” he said. He told her how he had planned to move to London immediately after university but the cost of living there was so high his plans had been delayed. And now, after eight months, he was finally moving in February.

“Think of your service year as a filler year for you to find a place and a job in Lagos. After service, you can then move there,” he said and she smiled. The coming year didn’t sound so bad when he put it that way.

“And you don’t have to talk about NYSC if the topic upsets you. We can talk about literally anything else,” he added with a smile as he squeezed her hand. And they did. They talked about everything, from how Nosa wasn’t a proper Brit because he pronounced the “T” in “Water” to how strange it was that Dara and everyone else kept saying “Barrister Aniebiet.”

“It’s like saying, “Nurse Dara”,” Nosa said and she laughed. When they finally left after three hours of talking about "everything", Dara was glad her plan had failed. Being here till January 2nd wasn't so bad after all. Not with Nosa around. And so, when she received a call from her PPA later that day, asking her to resume the next day because they were severely understaffed, Nosa was the first person she told.

“I suppose I should be happy for you. This is what you wanted,” he said, rubbing the back of his head and looking down.

"It was," she said, and for a moment, silence filled the air.

“You know what would be really funny?” she said, placing her right hand on the wooden bench where they sat. 

“What?” he asked, looking at her.

“If you came to Uyo to see me before you went back to UK,” she said, looking at him. He smiled.

“Like I said, who am I to deny you a laugh?” he replied, placing his hand on top of hers. 

Dara smiled. It truly was the most wonderful time of the year.