There’s something magical about walking into the shops at this time of year. The aisles are lined with tinsel, rows of glittering Christmas trees and Mariah Carey’s voice floats across every store like an unofficial national anthem.
But somewhere between the sparkling displays and the festive music, a lump grows in my throat — one I suspect many South Africans are swallowing this season.
Because while Christmas is here in all its commercial glory, the money simply isn’t.
I felt it most clearly on Black Friday. I walked in with a plan: grab a few bargains, tick off some Christmas gifts early, and stretch my budget as far as humanly possible. But even with the bold sale labels screaming at me, the discounts weren’t discounting enough. I stood there, staring at a toy I knew my three-year-old would adore, and asked myself the painful question so many parents are asking this year: How are people affording all this?
Everywhere I looked, trolleys were overflowing — lights, wrapping paper, gadgets, giant Christmas crackers, treats that only appear once a year. And then there was me, holding a calculator in my head like a reluctant accountant, trying to figure out if I could at least get some of the specials.
Being a mom during the festive season is its own emotional storm. You want to give your child the best Christmas — the magic, the memories, the sparkle in their little eyes when they wake up on Christmas Day.
My toddler is three now, old enough to understand the excitement, to point at decorations, to believe wholeheartedly in Father Christmas and “presents for good kids”. And that makes me want to give him everything, but everything feels out of reach.
Toys that were R199 last year are suddenly R349. Christmas pyjamas, which used to be a sweet little extra, now cost as much as a weekly grocery shop. Even the basics — wrapping paper, gift bags, tape — have quietly climbed in price.
It’s easy to fall into the trap of comparing. You see other families posting matching outfits, beautifully decorated trees, mountains of gifts; you see influencers doing “Christmas shopping hauls” that cost more than your rent. And you start to wonder: Is everyone else earning something I’m not? Or are we all just pretending?
But here’s the truth I’m holding onto this year: your child won’t remember the price tag. They will remember the moment.
They’ll remember baking cookies with you, even if the sprinkles are the cheap ones. They’ll remember dancing to Christmas songs in the lounge while you wrap gifts after bedtime. They’ll remember driving around the neighbourhood to look at lights, because that’s still free.
We grew up believing Christmas was measured in presents, but maybe this tough economy is forcing us to rediscover what it’s really about. Connection. Tradition. Time. So yes, the shops are beautiful, but they are also brutal reminders of how tight things are. And yes, the pressure is real — especially when you’re a parent wanting to make magic on a budget that feels like it shrank in the wash. But the magic doesn’t come from the shelves. It comes from us. From the effort, the love, the warmth, the memories we create — not the money we spend. And maybe that’s the kind of Christmas worth having.
