Fr. Dr. Okhueleigbe Osemhantie Ãmos
Once more, it is Christmas, and once again the world is running in frantic circles. What was once a gentle season of worship, family warmth, and grateful reflection has been transformed into a massive commercial machinery that feeds on human pressure. The sacred memory of Christ’s birth now competes with aggressive marketing, inflated prices, and a suffocating culture of consumption. Everywhere, from street markets to luxury malls, from social media to churches themselves, the message is no longer “Unto us a Child is born,” but “Buy, upgrade, spend, impress.”
The commercialisation is no longer subtle. This year, more sectors have entered the arena than ever before. Retailers begin Christmas in October, pushing countdowns and “mega-sales” that quietly increase prices only to announce fraudulent discounts. Food markets have become battlegrounds. Rice, which once crowned village meals, now stands like a forbidden monarch on the shelf. Groundnut oil has risen beyond the reach of the ordinary family. Soft drinks, once bought in crates, now come in pieces because a full pack has become a luxury. Even children’s clothes and simple chickens for the pot have become symbols of economic intimidation. A frustrated mother in Benin City complained sharply: “Even chicken is now acting like a foreigner. You go with N15,000 and still come back confused.”
Transporters have joined the march. Bus fares that were N5,000 two years ago now stand at N12,000–N18,000 simply because “Christmas is coming.” Airlines surge their fares with shameless confidence, knowing families will sacrifice anything to travel home. Hotels double their prices. Car-hire services behave like seasonal kings. A young graduate lamented online: “I want to see my parents this Christmas, but transport fare is telling me to stay where I am.”
Decorations, once items families reused from old boxes in the store, have become a full economy. Shops sell tiny strings of lights at triple their normal cost. Artificial Christmas trees now mimic the price of goats. Professional decorators charge amounts that could feed a household for a week. One trader put it openly: “The prices are chasing us and we are chasing the customers. Nobody is catching anybody.”
The food sector is bleeding. Tomatoes, pepper, onions, meat, fish, each one rises as if climbing the Tower of Babel. Many traders confess that they are tired of explaining why their prices keep climbing when even they themselves cannot afford what they sell. Families who once hosted neighbours now withdraw quietly because they cannot survive the expectation.
Even churches, unintentionally, have joined the cycle. Community Christmas parties now involve matching T-shirts, glossy printed banners, costly decorations, and competitive gift exchanges. The humble nativity play, once done with simple robes and cardboard wings, now competes with theatrical lighting and expensive costumes. Christmas carols are branded events with gate fees, VIP seating, and photography booths.
Advertising companies have colonised the emotional space of Christmas. They hijack angels, shepherds, and the Star of Bethlehem, turning them into tools for selling perfumes, phones, wines, clothes, and gadgets. The holy imagery meant to lead us to Christ now leads people to shopping carts. Families feel compelled to outperform each other. The pressure is real. The fear of looking “unfestive” is strong. One man whispered in a bus: “December is sweet, but it is financially wicked.”
What makes this commercialisation dangerous is not only the financial weight but the moral distortion. Christmas used to soften hearts. Today, it hardens budgets. The poor, who once found dignity in shared meals, now hide because they cannot meet the rising expectations. Neighbours used to exchange plates of rice; now they exchange excuses. Even charity has become competitive, posted online for likes, photographed for branding, measured by quantity rather than sincerity.
The cancer is visible:
In every overpriced hamper.
In every manipulated “promo.”
In every family pretending.
In every child asking for what parents cannot afford.
In every honest man praying that January would come fast.
Yet the cure is not beyond reach. Christians must defend Christmas from the claws of commercial greed. If the season is truly about Christ, then simplicity must return. A celebration without unnecessary pressure is not a lesser Christmas, it is the original one. It is better to give your family warmth and presence than debt and performance. It is better to share what you have than to borrow to impress. It is wiser to celebrate meaningfully than to suffer regretfully.
Christmas is redeemable. We can reclaim it from the marketplace. We can choose faith over frenzy, humanity over hustle, and contentment over chaos. Christ came quietly, in a manger—not in luxury, not in decoration, not in glitter, but in grace. That grace is still enough.
Fr. Dr. Okhueleigbe Osemhantie Amos is a priest of the Catholic Diocese of Uromi and a Lecturer at CIWA, Port Harcourt, Nigeria.
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