Lives Of African Women

Kidnapping the bride

2010-08-18T12:19:00.000-07:00

The kidnapping of the bride is part the local custom. It is the way the bride's childhood friends express their feeling about this friend who is getting ready to leave their circle and step into adulthood. They are happy for their friend so it's not a sign of any ill feelings; rather, it's a way of temporarily jerking the groom and his family around and laughing at their expenses. It's a sort of power trip because they remain in control until the ransom is paid and the bride is returned to her in laws to proceed with the rest of the wedding ceremony.

Ami's aunt welcomed them with open arms and a good breakfast. They gobbled down the "cafe au lait" and buttered bread plus a delicious creamy wheat porridge in the living room out of site of the morning crowd headed to the market. For the rest of the day, they would have to be careful not to be seen from the road outside the gate. Once their hiding place was discovered, they would have very little leverage and might have to surrender the bride without getting paid the ransom.

Ami's aunt left for the office soon after her husband. The maid will be there to provide anything the girls needed. Ami's aunt was a rarity in the area. She had been to school up to tenth grade and successfully passed the end of grade test. Her parents were reluctant in sending her to high school because the facility was in the nearest city. Girls were usually not sent away out their parents sight so she had stop her education and get married. She was almost 18. She was considered an old maid around there but a very envied one. With her middle school education and her husband's connections, she was hired as a secretary. She was beautiful, educated and she worked in an office. She was the canvass for Ami's life. She wanted to be at least like her if not more.

Ami started rallying her troop. They'd have some fun until around 1 or 2 o'clock if no one found them until then, she and another girl would go out and manage to be found. If they couldn't be found, they could not negotiate the ransom.

Ami put some music on and started dancing with a couple of the girls. Pretty soon Mariam kicked her usual shyness to the side and joined in. They danced and laughed for a while then started a conversation about man, marriage and dating. In a society where girls are absolutely required to remain virgins until marriage, each girl sounded as ignorant and down right childish as the next girl. They knew it and poked fun at each other for trying to sound expert on a matter they could only guess on. The only TV channel in the country only transmitted from 12 noon to 2 and from 6:30 to 11:00 pm. They watched the midday news and the ensuing musical show. The TV programming had just ended when Ami's cell phone rang. A little boy had told the searchers he'd seen her with some girls and he was certain that one of them was the Mariama, the bride even though he had not seen her concealed face.

"Ami, do you have Mariama?" An angry voice asked.

To be continued...

Kidnapping the bride

2010-08-12T09:35:00.000-07:00

At dawn, Thursday morning four of Mariama's mates enter her family home. It's still early and everyone is whispering so not the wake the rest of the household up. Also, this is a secret mission and the subjects involved usually take the utmost care not to be discovered, at least not until close the end of the day.

Mariama was already dressed and waiting. She had on a beautiful new wax print skirt set sewn by the taylor around the corner and some plastic sandals. Her mother ushered her out of her room to the steps where her friends were waiting. She watched the young ladies walk away shrouded in the early morning fog. She couldn't help but tear up. One girl handed Mariama a red flowery scarf to cover her hand and wrap it around her shoulders, helping shield her identity. With felted but determined footsteps, they walked back to the street towards a destination up to that moment, unknown to Mariam. They were headed to one of her companions' aunt's house. The young lady's name was Ami and she's worth introducing at this point and you'll understand why later. She explained that she'd called her aunt on her cell phone the night before and asked if they can hide the bride at her house the following day and got the green light to do so.

Upon meeting her, one would notice that Ami was a leader. Just like Mariama, she was 16 but shrewd beyond her years. She was illiterate but that was not stopping her. She had her feet in traditions but her head in every knickknack in a western teenager's world her brain can comprehend. She had a cell phone, a "made in China" ipod, was into western music and stars. You'd expect her to be a trouble maker but she wasn't. She had something about her that was foreign to this place. What was certain was that she knew what she wanted in life - do things in her own terms.

The girls walked twenty five minutes and finally snuck into a beautiful small villa on the outskirts of town. Ami's aunt was waiting for them.

To be continued...

Henna Night

2010-08-08T06:37:00.000-07:00

Mariama couldn't believe this. All her unmarried childhood friends were gathered in her "little mom's" room. Little mom is the nickname given to the second or any subsequent wives or your father. In a corner, half a dozen teenage girls were making music with an overturned calabash filled with old clothes. They were pounding on it with their closed fists and singing songs for the occasion. The best voice led the songs and the rest accompanied her with very rhythmic claps and a joyful chorus. One young lady held another calabash in both hands. The item was decorated with multiple cowry shells attached to three to five inches strings. She'd throw the calabash in the air twirling it three to four times clockwise and one time the opposite way. Her very coordinated hand tricks added a distinguished beat to the musical performance taking place.

Although some of the songs were about how the young bride would miss her teenage life and her family, Mariama was happy. She had butterflies in her stomach thinking about her new husband. Her hand was given in marriage a year before. Now 16, she couldn't wait to start her new life. The marriage was prearranged as was the case most of the time in her culture, but unlike most brides she knew her future husband. She had at least since him physically around town before she was informed she'd be marrying him. Also, in accordance with the rituals, in the past three months he visited her every fourth Saturday. They always met with a circle of his and her friends around tea and delectable braised meat prepared for the occasion. Any one on one exchange was under the watchful eyes of others.

She liked him. He was 23, unmarried and handsome. She couldn't believe how lucky she was. Most girls she knew went into marriage with their heart bleeding in silence, forced to live with someone they did not choose and whom they did not like when they finally got to see physically.

Sitting on a grass rug right on the floor of the now packed and noisy room, Mariam extended her hands and feet one after the other to a young lady who was creating intricate patterns on them with thinly cut adhesive strips. Once both palms and feet were covered with this artistic tapestry, three other young women joined the first one. Each one took a member and started applying thin layers of the henna paste prepared with henna powder, water and a little bit of sugar -someone suggested the sugar to add intensity to the color. When the application process was done, the ladies covered her hands and feet in plastic wraps, loosely tied strings at each wrist and ankle to secure the wrap, then slid oversize socks over them. She was then helped to the bed were she'd spend the night trying not to smudge the henna work by keeping her palms open and not moving too much during her sleep.

Outside, the street was blocked off. Dozens of mostly women family members, friends or simple acquaintances formed a big circle, some sitting on benches rented for the occasion, some standing. Two drummers energetically beat their djembe (pronounced jay'm'bay). Beside them a wood fire was burning. This was used every half hour or so to warm up the leather part of drum and sharpen the sound of the instrument. A professional singer was hard at work singing family praises and historic feats while women spontaneously entered the circle and danced. The singer was rewarded with a deluge of banknotes for the public. All the while, young girls walked around and served sweetened ginger juice refreshments and cookies made by Mariam's family.

The celebration went on until midnight. It was around 1:00 am when the last of the spectators dispersed. The same thing will go on again on Wednesday night before the big day on Thursday.

To be continued...