It is two days before Christmas and the family is en route to the small village of Luosto, which is 927 km north of Helsinki and has a population of about 200, which declines to a mere 73 during summer.

Our coach is full to capacity with couples and their overly enthusiastic children – it is reminiscent of a Spur restaurant on a Friday night. We are on a mission – to find the elusive Santa Claus, who has been sighted by four of his able elves (or subordinate clauses, as they are also called – just joking), but not yet by us.

Just in case you are wondering, Luosto is located in the Arctic Circle. It is in Lapland, Finland, or Finnish Lapland, as Lapland transcends the borders of Finland, Norway, Sweden and Russia.

It is cold outside, extremely cold – the temperature is –22 °C – and it is snowing lightly. We are dressed in what winter clothes we could get but still feel cold. Deep down, I pray that Santa Claus remains elusive, for I have very little interest in leaving the bus. But there is another challenge besides the cold – a severely limited music selection, which repeats much too often. The iPod tracks were, no doubt, compiled at short notice or possibly selected from a limited Christmas catalogue. But there are a few elderly people on board – grandparents – who are seemingly enjoying the music. The only explanation that I can offer is that their hearing might not be what it used to be or that their interest is attribut- able to their memory. Either way, they are in an enviable position as far as their fellow adult commuters are concerned.

As I stare outside, the 1984 Band Aid song, Do They Know it’s Christmas?, which, believe it or not, remains the UK’s biggest festive hit, makes yet another unwanted appearance. You might recall that, midway through the song, there are the following four lyrics, which I have always found quite intriguing: “And there won’t be snow in Africa this Christmas time; The greatest gift they’ll get this year is life; Oh, where nothing ever grows, no rain or rivers flow; Do they know it’s Christmas time at all?”

It made me think where in Africa there would be snow during December, the northern hemisphere winter? There are, to my knowledge, ice-capped peaks on Mount Kenya, Tanzania’s Mount Kilimanjaro, Uganda’s Rwenzori Mountains, and Ethiopia’s Semien Mountains. But falling snow in Africa in December? I do not know of any. It is fair to conclude that it does not snow in Africa in December, even with climate change. But then Africa’s greatest gift is life, it is a place where nothing ever grows and no rain or rivers flow, and the continent is not aware that it is Christmas time – at all.

The song reminds one of the persisting ignorance of people in the northern hemisphere when they think of Africa. Granted, that song’s lyrics generally tend to accommodate a melody, but a song still reverberates a message. When travelling in the northern hemisphere and you are asked what your nationality is – they pick up your accent, apparently – and state that you are South African, the general perception is that you are referring to a geographic location rather than a country. I kid you not.

This, of course, begs the question: Why does South Africa still carry a colonial name, which is reminiscent of the unification of four former British colonies (though two were previously Boer republics)? The unification was depicted on the previous South African flag, which incorporated the former colonies’ respective flags. Maybe Santa Claus or someone should consider adding it to the list, but such a request should come from someone who, preferably, is not on the naughty list.

You may remember that, prior to its independence, Namibia was called German South West Africa and later simply South West Africa. Interestingly, its main port, Walvis Bay, and the Penguin islands were annexed by Britain as part of the Union of South Africa. Namibia derives its name from the Namib Desert.

More trivia – South Africa is the only country in Africa that retained its colonial name. Also, did you know that South Africa has 11 official names, reflecting the country’s 11 official languages, and that this number is surpassed only by India. The names are Suid Afrika, South Africa, Afrika Borwa, iSewula Afrika, Afrika Borwa, iNingizimu Afrika, Afrika Dzonga, Aforika Borwa, Afurika Tshipembe, uMzantsi Afrika and iNingizimu Afrika. In addition to its 11 official languages, South Africa also recognises eight unofficial languages, including the Khoi-San languages.

The name South Africa remains a descriptor of where we are rather than what we are. Just in case you are reaching for Azania – remember that in Roman times the name applied to various parts of south-eastern tropical Africa, so not to Southern Africa.

By the way, we did manage to find Santa Claus. He was discovered on Christmas morning in a log cabin in the woods, enjoying some hot cocoa and reading some letters requesting gifts that still had to be delivered. And, yes, it was snowing outside – it really was. For the first time, this African experienced snow on Christmas Day. Personally, I do not blame Santa Claus for staying inside because being outside when temperatures are at –22 °C is quite challenging.

Having found Santa Claus, we saved him from having to venture out to deliver the remaining presents in countries including South Africa. (Do you know what the difference is between a present and a gift? According to the English language, a gift usually passes from an affluent person to a less affluent person, while a present, on the other hand, passes between equals.) As we leave Santa Claus, I hope that, during his African adventure, he at least listens to Ed Jordan’s African Christmas.

Turning to the southern-most tip of the African continent, it is sad that its Christmas cheer has evaporated as quickly as it has, largely as a result of unnecessary altercations on social media. Why would anyone be engaging in such unconstructive acts over the festive season? It is astounding how seemingly objective commentators believe that they are blissfully unaware of their own subjectivity.

It is my sincere wish, for the year ahead, that South Africans focus their attention on collective actions that unite the country rather than on actions that divide an already fragile country.

Though the Band Aid song might highlight the lack of understanding of the African continent, one does not want South Africa to sink into despair, so much so that what is considered to be the saddest song in recording history resonates with all South Africans. The song I am referring to is the 1992 song by the band REM, Everybody Hurts, from the album Automatic for the People. The song was written in an effort to reach out to people who felt that they had no hope – at all.