The custom of lobola is in practice in seven southern African countries. This is what the West calls bride price. Even in these circumstances, as in South Asia, the women remain properties of their family who are to be transferred upon their marriage, writes Zainab Kizilbash
Mrs Limbo’s little soliloquies are by far the most enjoyable work interruptions I face at the ministry. She has to be one of my favourite characters strutting about the office. She considers anyone outside her home village as “thieves”.
As a result, she hides her precious mobile phone in one of her many African body curves. The suspense of trying to decipher where it is nestled on a particular day is usually broken during meetings, when the phone rings and the relevant body part jiggles.
This hot, dry morning, however, she is worried. Her gleaming skin is folded into little contemplating wrinkles, a rare sight for Mrs Limbo. She is standing next to the window in the Namibian sun, shaking her head sadly. She whispers dramatically, “I have three sons.” In Pakistan, where testosterone is sacrosanct, I expect such a remark to be proceeded by a tiny jig.
Here, there is no jig. She looks at me expectantly. I stare beaming back. “Each of them has to be married.” She offers in the way of explanation. A bubble of images of trucks laden with sofa sets float through my consciousness together with what I can swear are strains of a mattress advertisement.
I still do not understand Mrs Limbo’s claim to sympathy. “I won’t be able to afford it,” she finally says. This has to be one of those points where cultural divides are a bit too deep and wide to jump across.
A passing colleague from Zambia, laughs at our distress. Lobola! He exclaims. I enthusiastically respond Lobola! hoping it is just the Zambian word for hello.
“Lobola,” he continues, “is what the westerners refer to as bride price. These practices continue throughout the various tribes in southern Africa, stronger in some cultures than others. It is the price a man has to pay before he can wed a woman. It can range from money to cattle to property. Sometimes a young man may be required to work on his future father-in law’s lands before he is granted his daughter’s hand in marriage.”
After a pause, in a soft voice, he continues, “And, if the complexion of a woman’s skin is as dark as coffee and she is well-educated as well, the man has to pay higher price for her.”
His eyes dart in my direction where he appraisingly mutters “MSc” and declares. “You could fetch up to 25 cows”. I think of 25 cows. Hah! I gloat.
I anxiously await the rest, “If he’s an incompetent lazy sloth, a father can have him help around the house before he is able to get married.” I think of my fiance working with my father. It’s a terrifying thought. I stop smiling.
Apathetically and almost academically the Zambian colleague continues to explain, “Apart from that, for example in Namibia, in the north the groom has to bring a cow that will be slaughtered for the wedding to feed the guests.” I start smiling again.
I retreat to my office for a moment slightly tickled by the idea of Lobola. All of a sudden, a thought comes to my mind that all women in South Asia who are threatened by being spinsters due to lack of adequate trousseaus or are victims of mysterious stove burning incidents should move to southern Africa. Mattress sales in Pakistan might go down but it is high time we are valued for our worth. Twenty five cows in my case.
A little research reveals that Lobola is a widespread tradition in seven southern African countries and is practiced even though modernization has brushed a few strokes on it. To some it represents everything that is sanctimonious about a marriage.
Lobola entails a complex and very formal process of negotiation between the two families to come to a mutual agreement of the price that the groom has to pay in order to marry the bride. The process is exceedingly formal and has certain protocols that have to be met.
Although the two families concerned might have lived next to each other for years, all negotiation between the parents must be conducted in writing and not by telephone or by a quick visit.
The arrangements for the meeting between the families involve endless formalities. The parents of the prospective groom do not conduct negotiations themselves but through relatives, usually uncles of the groom.
I presume family politics are not such a large issue in southern Africa. I have a nagging suspicion that in our part of the world, if entire family clans were involved in marriage decisions a fewer number of people would have “happy thereafters.”
Great ceremony is involved when the negotiating teams from the families meet. The formal tension between the two parties involved in the negotiations is often broken by a bottle of brandy placed on a table. The bottle is a white flag of sorts. It represents a relaxation of tension and an acceptance of the guests.
This gesture is known as mvulamlomo, which, in Xhosa, one of the languages spoken in southern Africa, literally means “mouth-opener.” When either party wishes to divorce, the process of negotiation has to be reversed and the same delegation of elders may work to save the marriage.
Divorce is not simply a couple’s decision but a familial one. The idea of having a family conference on your relationship with your spouse is enough to keep anyone from divorcing.
However, what seemed to me at the beginning to be a vast difference in cultural interpretation of a woman’s role, seems to be dissolving fast into familiar ideas about gender.
Women in line with traditional African custom are considered as minors throughout their life spans. In terms of that custom a woman remains a child till marriage even for brothers who may be younger than her.
True, legislation such as that introduced in Zimbabwe under the Legal Age of Majority Act which deems women above the age of 18 as majors has been introduced, as in Pakistan, it takes a long time for legislation to seep through actual practices.
The practice of Lobola also impacts negatively on a woman’s reproductive rights and her sexual health. It is also to blame partly for why women bear a disproportionate share of the high HIV and Aids rate spreading throughout the region.
Men through Lobola also have claim on any children born out of the marriage. If divorce should occur a woman does not have access to her own children.
The momentary excitement at having found a culture which values women, has been dissolved into nothingness. Much like the formation of religious institutions, which underline certain rituals not because of spirituality but to create political power, gender relations rely on certain customs to propagate power of a different kind. A prime tool: marriage customs.
True that in South Asia women may absorb more funds from parents rather than generate funds for them, even in southern Africa the idea of women as property to be transferred upon marriage remains.
As changes in time and distance are fast changing our lifestyles, we, as societies, have had an automatic instinctive reaction to salvage parts of our culture before they are swept away by globalization.
In the midst of all this culture shuffling, hopefully, we will think long and hard about only keeping ones that strengthen our beliefs rather than weaken them. Respecting women, as individuals will be a useful thought to start with.