My grown-up gap year: Joining the family in marriage season

IT IS summertime in Malawi and love is in the air. The newspapers are full of adverts from families inviting their friends and relatives to engagement or wedding ceremonies.

Our friends Mwai and Sheena, who make beautiful contemporary clothes with a traditional twist, are working 15 hours a day to dress what seems to be every young bride-to-be in Blantyre. And last Sunday we clapped and cheered as another of our friends, Govati, helped preside over the engagement ceremony of his niece Misonzi to her long-time boyfriend, Victor.

Chickens feature a lot in Malawi engagement ceremonies, which are almost as elaborate and definitely as important as the wedding that has to follow within a year.

“This young cock is looking for a hen,” Victor’s uncle told Govati at the start of the ceremony which is based on Malawi’s ancient village traditions.

The “hen”, the beautiful and very shy Misonzi, was eventually brought before the cheering audience by her young female relatives, but only after several other girls had been rejected by Victor and his uncle.

To seal the bargain between the families, two live chickens were exchanged, then cooked and shared among the crowing crowd.

“What is Govati going to do?” I whispered to my husband, as he was the first to be offered a mouthful of chicken.

He is a vegetarian, or as his wife, Thoko, says, in one of her many memorable phrases: “He doesn’t eat anything that has a mother.”

Before Nigel could answer, up popped Thoko who bit off a mouthful, then another, with exuberant relish.

As she is fond of telling us, usually while patting her buxom backside: “I love my food too much, I will eat anything. I don’t mind if it has a mother.”

The ceremony ended with a prayer, but not before Tyson, Misonzi’s proud father, gave his prospective son-in-law a stern warning. “No tricks, young man,” he boomed. “I will be keeping my eye on you.”

The assorted relatives trooped out of the living room into the garden to enjoy a much-needed soft drink.

Sophisticated urbanites dressed in expensive European clothes mingled with villagers wrapped in colourful chitenjes – traditional Malawi clothes.

“If you live in town, you have to bring your relatives from your home village to family celebrations. That means paying for their transport and their accommodation,” said Govati.

“In recent years some town people stopped doing this, but when someone died and their family took their bodies back to their home village for burial, the relatives in the village would say, ‘No, why are you coming to us for the funeral, but don’t invite us to town for the wedding?’ So we are happy to pay for them to come and celebrate with us.”

Family ties are the foundation of Malawian society. Grannies are revered, even distant relatives are called uncle and often, when a young couple marry, they will take over the care of their younger brothers and sisters.

“On your wedding day, you become a grown-up and that means taking a load off your parents,” explained Govati.

Close friends are treated as family too. I was startled the first time Vitu, Govati’s eldest girl, called me “grandma”, but once I had recovered from the shock of a tall, elegant teenager calling me granny, I was deeply moved by this overt sign of our growing kinship. But her softly spoken “grandma” makes me yearn for Kyle, our grandson.

“Why are you still on holiday, Pops? When are you coming home?” he asked on the phone a few days ago.

Soon, darling, we will be home soon.

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