Africans rethink large and generous marriages like pandemics

KAMPALA, Uganda (AP) – The moment of truth for Ivan Arinaitwe came when he had to choose among many relatives and friends who to invite to his wedding. An initial number of 150 people increased to 300 while he was in agony. No matter how hard he tried, it would be difficult to get Uganda’s recommended “scientific” marriage, reduced to the COVID-19 pandemic.

In Africa, where weddings are usually large, he would invite 1,300 people, if he could. Now he worries about the reaction of the uninvited and the consequences for his family.

“It’s a little complicated, really complicated,” said the official at a government research agency whose wedding is scheduled for April. “But we have a scapegoat for the COVID-19 pandemic. I will say: ‘It is not me. That’s what the government said. If I didn’t invite you, please understand. ‘”

He is not alone. Many Africans are rethinking large, generous marriages amid efforts to discourage large gatherings to combat the spread of COVID-19 and in response to the economic devastation of the pandemic. In Uganda, a country in East Africa with 45 million inhabitants, where colorful wedding trains are a street show on weekends, President Yoweri Museveni last year ordered so-called scientific weddings, with a maximum of 10 people present , to contain the spread of the coronavirus.

Museveni organized a cousin’s wedding in July in the lush gardens of the official residence, State House, with the masked couple in socially distant armchairs. Even the simple wedding cake looked bleak, unlike the giant layered cakes that usually dominate receptions.

The pandemic is forcing changes in communities where the family can mean an entire clan and marriages are seen as the key to consolidating relationships between communities. Many families plan weddings, and the big, extravagant ones are a status symbol in places like Nigeria, where more than $ 2 million can be spent.

Many in Uganda expressed skepticism about small marriages, and police were reported to interrupt non-compliant ceremonies before the rules were gradually relaxed to allow up to 200 participants.

But now, as the pandemic continues to hit, more people are wary of their money.

“When the coronavirus attacked, people adapted quickly, very quickly,” said Rev. Sammy Wainaina, rector of the Cathedral of All Saints in Kenya’s capital, Nairobi. “For weddings, people are small.”

More Kenyans now opt for relaxed “garden” events, as well as the civil unions that became popular last year, he said. While this may be a good thing, Wainaina said, he is concerned that some “may become very casual at such marriages and will only later realize that they were not committed to the vows they took.”

The demand for church weddings “has dropped considerably,” he said.

A similar trend is reported in Uganda by Charles Nsimbi, an official charged with registering civil unions, who told the New Vision newspaper that the average number of unions per day increased from five to 12 before the pandemic.

Arinaitwe, the Ugandan who plans a wedding in a small church, said he decided not to have a reception in his rural district, where even the uninvited could attend. The invitations specify two people and no children. He knows it will upset many, but it is necessary to keep the numbers under control and avoid starting his marriage with a heavy bill to pay.

“Given that people’s disposable income has been drastically reduced, people are in survival mode,” said Moses Mugarura, a Ugandan pastor who owns a restaurant in the capital, Kampala, which has been highly sought after by couples.

His restaurant did not host any wedding meetings from February 2020 to January, he said. And he went from one wedding every other weekend to just four last year, citing concerned families that his eligible daughters “are not exposed to normal opportunities”.

“I believe that many people lost their faith and reached the easiest fruits,” he said, referring to cohabitation.

But simply living together is not a solution for some conservative societies, including Noel Mporebuce in Rwanda’s capital, Kigali. When the Central African nation reported its first cases of viruses, he was preparing for a wedding initially scheduled for Boxing Day. The blockade imposed to slow the pandemic effectively banned social gatherings and left him with the hopes of a classic wedding .

“At this point, we would be married and happy, living as husband and wife,” he said. “Everything is now in God’s hands. Coronavirus is busy killing our future.”

Another resident of Kigali, professor Emmanuel Gatera, described a different problem for a sister whose wedding was scheduled for Christmas, but was postponed indefinitely because her partner struggles to survive. The pregnant woman moved in with him anyway, because she feared he would change his mind about marriage.

“Cohabitation is unthinkable in our society, and that scar will live with (my sister) forever,” said Gatera.

And yet for others, the pandemic presented an opportunity to bypass wedding ceremonies that cannot normally be circumvented.

Philemon Jambaya, a freelance journalist in Zimbabwe, said he negotiated a reduction in the bride’s price via WhatsApp, then recorded a small and brief traditional wedding on smartphones. The family elders did not resist, he said.

Its success is notable in the southern African country, where a traditional wedding can be elaborated, involving up to a dozen stages that take months, leading to a crowded engagement and meal.

“I never imagined getting married like this, but I couldn’t wait,” said Jambaya. “Everyone knew how much I loved her and how desperate I was to make her my wife, and that we are also living in abnormal times.”

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Mutsaka reported from Harare, Zimbabwe. Associated Press writer Ignatius Ssuuna in Kigali, Rwanda contributed to this report.

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