The mansion smelled of cinnamon and freshly baked cookies, the kind Mom insisted on making even when she claimed she was too tired. This was the first Christmas in their own house, and the difference was unmistakable. No cramped rooms, no broken lights struggling to blink — now the family tree stretched proudly to the ceiling, covered with ornaments Caro had bought with her salon profits.
"Shelly, make sure you vlog this part!" Leratho shouted, balancing on a stool as she tried to hook a golden star onto the highest branch. Clifton, of course, tugged at the stool just to annoy her.
"Clifton!" Mom barked, but her voice held laughter.
I held the camera steady, the little red light blinking. "Okay guys, today's vlog is extra special — our first Christmas in the new house. Say hi, family!"
Everyone waved, half-distracted with decorating, but my heart swelled. The chat on YouTube Live filled with hearts and comments: 'Congrats Shelly!' 'House goals!' 'Where's Collins? Show us Collins!'
Collins poked his head in, hands greasy from wiring fairy lights around the balcony. "I'm here, I'm here — tell them the lights will shine brighter than Harare's fireworks."
The audience spammed laughing emojis.
Later that night, the living room was glowing with lights, laughter, and the sound of Mariah Carey blasting through Leratho's Bluetooth speaker. Gifts were stacked under the tree. Caro had wrapped hers in shiny pink paper, Nelia's were perfectly folded like origami, while mine… well, mine were just neat enough to pass.
During dinner, Dad raised his glass of Mazoe Orange Crush. "This year, we've seen miracles. From renting to owning. From dreaming to building. From struggling to shining. My children, you've given me and your mother more joy than we thought possible."
Tears pricked my eyes as I captured his speech for my vlog. Comments scrolled across the screen: '😭 goals' 'Your dad speaks wisdom'.
Afterward, Leratho and Clifton cornered me while unwrapping presents.
"Shelly," Clifton grinned mischievously, "when you go to Thailand, are you finally going to marry Ohm Pawat?"
I groaned, throwing a pillow at him. "He doesn't even know me—"
"Yet!" Leratho added with dramatic flair. "You're always posting edits of Ohm, Pond, and Phuwin. Don't lie, sis, we know the truth."
Even Mom joined the teasing. "Just remember us when you're sitting next to Thai celebrities at Christmas next year."
The laughter rolled on, blending with the warmth of the season. Deep down, though, I knew they weren't entirely wrong. Thailand wasn't just an escape or a study plan — it was a dream, a universe waiting for me.
That night, after everyone fell asleep, I edited the vlog. Watching the footage back — the smiles, the decorations, the teasing — I realized this was the "wow factor" of life. Not just the system, not just the money, but us. My family.
I uploaded the video with the title:
"From Chitungwiza to a Mansion: Our First Christmas at Home 🎄✨"
By the time I woke up the next morning, it had already hit 1 million views.