A Christmas Note from the Writer Who Survived the Year 🎄✍🏽

A Christmas Note from the Writer Who Survived the Year 🎄✍🏽

Dear Reader,

If words were candles, this newsletter would be a small cathedral by now—flickering, stubborn, and miraculously still standing. As the year bows out, clutching its receipts and unfinished business, I feel compelled (and mildly emotional) to pause and say thank you.

Thank you for reading.

Thank you for subscribing.

Thank you for forwarding an article to a friend with the whispered warning: “This one might make you uncomfortable—but read it.”

In an economy where attention is the rarest currency, you chose to spend yours here. That alone deserves a standing ovation—or at the very least, a respectful nod over a cup of tea.

A Year of Writing, Wrestling, and Wi-Fi Problems

This year, I wrote through power blackouts, existential crises, inflation, caffeine shortages, and the occasional urge to abandon prose for goat farming. Yet somehow, sentence after sentence survived. Some even thrived.

I wrote essays that asked difficult questions.

Others simply complained eloquently.

A few tried to make sense of the world.

Most tried to make sense of me.

And you stayed.

That loyalty—dear reader—is not small.

Christmas, Capitalism, and a Modest Confession

Now, Christmas.

That peculiar season where:

• Everyone is suddenly kind

• WhatsApp groups resurrect from the dead

• And grown adults pretend socks are “actually useful gifts”

It is also a season of giving. Which brings me—very gently, very politely, and with festive humility—to a confession:

🎁 I am open to receiving gifts.

Not because I am greedy.

Not because I am shameless.

But because Christmas is built on the radical idea that joy multiplies when shared.

If Santa can accept cookies without an audit, surely a writer can accept a gesture of appreciation.

Consider it patronage.

Or goodwill.

Or a symbolic “keep going—we’re reading.”

No pressure. No obligation. Just festive spirit wrapped in tinsel and sincerity.

Satire Corner (Because It’s Still Me)

Let us be honest:

If emotional support were legal tender, writers would be billionaires.

Unfortunately, landlords remain unimpressed by metaphors.

Still—laughter is free, gratitude is renewable, and hope (despite global evidence) remains stubbornly alive.

Looking Ahead

Next year, I promise:

• More honesty

• Sharper satire

• Better storytelling

• And fewer typos (this is aspirational, not contractual)

This space will continue to be one of thinking aloud, questioning loudly, and occasionally laughing at the absurdity of it all.

Final Word

Wherever you are this Christmas—celebrating loudly, surviving quietly, or negotiating fragile ceasefires with relatives—know this:

Your presence here matters.

Your reading matters.

You made this work possible.

May your holidays be warm, your food plentiful, your data bundles strong, and your heart light.

With gratitude, humour, and festive mischief,

Egy Nacious

💬 Support This Newsletter

This newsletter is free, independent, and created with care to inform, reflect, and inspire. While Substack currently doesn’t support paid subscriptions from Kenya, I’m grateful for every reader who finds value in this work.

If you’d like to support what I do, here are safe and secure ways to do so:

🌍 PayPal (International)

✉️ Email: certifiedresearcher56@gmail.com

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📱 Number: +254 718 600 920

👤 Name: Ignatius Mutuku

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This M-Pesa number is also linked to the M-Pesa Global Visa card for online transactions.

🙏 Why It Matters:

Your support — whether big or small — helps me keep researching, writing, and publishing independently. It allows me to focus more on quality content and less on survival.

Thank you for being part of this journey. Your readership means the world.

📞 Feel free to contact the author directly on WhatsApp at +254 718 600 920 for feedback, questions, or just to say hi. Always happy to connect with readers