A poor man must also marry

Compared to a decade ago, a casual observer would be shocked with the dramatic change in ceremonies and customs that make up a Zimbabwean marriage now Estimates are that the cost has increased 100-fold.

Springtime in Zimbabwe is the time when hearts turn to romance and pockets empty for roora, or lobola (the word for bride price in the local Shona and Ndebele languages respectively).

This is the gift offered to prospective in-laws by suitors hoping to win a young woman’s hand. It is meant to be a token of appreciation, a gift that unites two families – loosely akin to an engagement ring.
The tradition has passed from great-grandfathers who once herded cows through green grasslands to suit-and-tie civil servants who toil in city office towers.

But these days, this nation wracked by political and economic turmoil has added wedding woes to its troubles as parents charge higher and higher bride prices to earn extra income. Some people are requesting cell phones, second-hand cars or even jerry cans filled with fuel to sweeten the deal.
In rural communities, men typically offer five to 10 cows as a bride price; in cities, the tradition was for men to offer the cash equivalent.

But inflation, officially pegged at 7,500 percent, has sent the price of cows from Z$5 million a head to as much as Z$80 million, while most salaries have not kept pace.

Some families, mindful of the plummeting value of the Zimbabwe dollar, are demanding payment in American dollars.

All this has horrified both traditional leaders and sociologists here, not

to mention potential grooms. As for the ancestors, some people warn, they must be shaking their heads in disgust.

Its unfortunate that the grinding poverty in this country has made everyone greedy and people are capitalizing in making a killing from offering their daughters for marriage, said Cornelius Muchemwa, an account executive with an advertising agency in Harare. Any reasonable person would tell you it’s just not right to charge such exorbitant amounts of money. It’s bad, he said.

Muchemwa should know better. Three weeks ago, he was sitting in a mud hut with a black satchel full of brand new Z$200,000 bearer cheques. He was negotiating a bride price for his brother, an instruments technician who was seeking permission to marry his sweetheart, a supermarket merchandiser.

Uncles and brothers typically negotiate on behalf of the future groom, and aunts and sisters for the future bride. The discussions usually take place in the rural home village, even if the lovers are city people with brick houses and satellite dishes.

Muchemwa had about Z$80 million with him, which he thought would be plenty for his brother’s bride. But when the bride’s family told him they wanted Z$380 million, almost three times his entire annual salary, he walked out in protest.

The groom-to-be threatened to cancel the wedding. His fiancée wept. After some nail-biting negotiations, her relatives reduced the price by 10 percent. They took the Z$80 million as a deposit and agreed to accept the rest in instalments over the life of the marriage.

Muchemwa said the bride’s extended family probably needed the money to buy groceries.
If you love her, Muchemwa said glumly, you have to accept it.

But advocates for women warn that the trend may have ugly consequences. Even before prices started rising, they condemned the tradition, saying it leaves women vulnerable to abusive husbands who believe they own their wives.

Claude Mararike, a sociologist at the University of Zimbabwe, worries about what the trend might mean for poor men.

People are saying that this is the only chance to make a lot of money, but a poor man must also marry, Mararike said.