The Pre -Wedding Party

 

During, my day with Noisim, I was invited to join her for a Maasai celebration.  A neighbour’s daughter, Sylvia is getting married in a few weeks and this was the blessing from the pastors and the giving of the gifts ceremony.  There would be between 150 and 200 guests today.  The wedding itself will be much bigger with around 500 expected. The groom has paid a dowry of an unknown number of cows to the bride’s family.

We arrived at 1pm.  The format was to eat lunch with the family and then the ceremony would begin at 2pm sharp.  I had my doubts about the accuracy of this schedule but time would tell.  We were welcomed by Alice (mother of the bride) and her husband, Joshua. They both spoke excellent English which made small talk easier.  We soon discovered that Alice was the same age as me, had the same number of children as me (same order of boy/girl and exactly the same ages.)

I am served lunch of potatoes, rice, chapatti and meat.  I have asked for a small portion because I know from experience that your welcome is denoted by the size of your serving!  Even so, it is a full plate.  However, it is delicious and I enjoy every mouthful.  I have no idea what meat is being served and see no benefit in asking.

The men gather in the sitting room and dining room (it is a large house) while the women sit outside.  There is a bright blaze of colour everywhere I look, set against the backdrop of a clear blue sky and the Ngong hills.  Everyone is dressed up and looking fabulous.  All the women wear traditional Maasai outfits – skirts, long tops, beaded belts, cloaks and of course, lots of bracelets and necklaces – beaded with intricate designs and made locally.  It is a stunning sight.

There is much interest in the muzungu guest – particularly among the women.  Noisim and her sister-in- law, Pamela, translate both the questions and the answers. What age am I?  How many sons do I have? Do I have a husband? Is he an old man?  Did I choose him or did my father give me to him? Why is my skin white – am I an albino?

I happen to have a bruise on my arm.  There is much concern as everyone, rubs it, tuts and gestures sympathy.  Did my husband beat me?  I almost want to say yes – just to see what other stories will come from them but I can’t bring myself to do it!

When they discover what I am doing in Kenya, they become even more interested.  One grandmother, who is clearly well-respected, steps forward.  The others become silent as she speaks.  Will I help the women who were not allowed to go to school?  Will I teach them English so they can help their children to be educated?

It is a heart-breaking question because the answer is no.  I have neither time nor capacity in a four week visit. I reply that while I could not help because I was returning to Scotland, I thought that maybe some schools, in the future should offer English lessons to mothers so that parents can help with homework.  The grandmother, said she hoped this might happen.  Not for her but for her children.

Then she asked another question..  Am I too old to learn?  Is it only children who can learn and be educated? The words caught in my throat as I assured her that no-one was ever too old to learn.  It really affected me.  She was 77 years old; bright, interested and no opportunity for education throughout her whole life.  Her name is Faith.  The irony is not lost on me.  We really don’t know and appreciate how lucky we are.

I am invited to help serve food to the men.  I know it is a compliment and I am being fully included by the women.  I overcome my feminist instincts and smile my agreement.  First water is offered to wash their hands, then dishes are served to the men. If it is an older man, I must bow my head so he can pat it.  It is a sign of respect. It is definitely an occasion to suppress your Western side and just experience the traditions of a different culture. (Even if you want to kick them on the shins.)

The ceremony finally starts at 4pm.  It is only 2 hours later than scheduled and this is because people who have walked far, continue to arrive through the course of the afternoon.  It is unthinkable that they wouldn’t be fed by the host family.

There are two pastors and they take turns.  It is a mixture of Maa and Kiswahii and they take turns.  There is singing, preaching and then the gift ceremony.  Women who are giving money must come to the front.  The amount they donate, and on whose behal , is read by the men who keep the money bag. There are also speeches from Alice and Joshua thanking people for attending.  The bride should speak too but she is too shy and simply bows her head and covers her mouth.  Apparently, this is a sign that she will be a good and meek wife.

It is time for us to go so we can get home before it is dark.  I give the bride a present of a bracelet and some money.  Sylvia is delighted and asks me to attend the full wedding in a fortnight.  Unfortunately, I will not be here but I wish her all the best for a long and happy marriage.

What a wonderful experience and how lucky am I to have been invited to be part of it.