Cultural Hurdles

We are happy that you have made time to read our blog.

If this is your first visit on our blog, for a bit of the background and the journey so far, we would suggest that you read first blog post, The Meeting, Ndine musikana wangu (I got myself a girl) and Dating & Courtship and Meeting the Families For and introduction of our family and categories of topics to be covered please visit the About Us page.

Now that we had met each other’s families, and the meetings had gone well, we were happy with what we saw, we continued earnestly with our marriage plans.

Since I was now staying in Chinhoyi, we missed our dates during this key period of our relationship. During the week, I would phone Wim at lunchtime. However, most of our communication was through writing each other letters. Oh, yes, letters – snail mail.

Most Fridays, I would catch a lift or bus to Harare to meet my Wim. Our dates were beginning to turn into “planning” meetings, but we ensured that we continued growing in our relationship.

Love is a plant that requires continual watering and caring. We continued with our picnics.

The Engagement

The next step we considered on our journey was engagement. Although we knew some of our friends who had held engagement parties, this was not an expectation in our culture at the time.

We had a frank discussion about whether we should also host a similar event. Considering our situation of limited resources (I was still a student), was it necessary to have one? Could this not be a distraction that would hinder us from reaching our ultimate goal as there were still other hurdles ahead? Would the money spent on the engagement not come in handy, for other expected future expenses?

We finally agreed that we would not want to miss this stage on our journey.

We set a date in April.

We had to keep costs low, so we planned for a modest engagement party.

Thankfully, Wim’s tete (aunty) kindly offered to host the engagement party.

We decided we would cater for thirty guests – close friends and family only.

It turned up to be a special event with the highlight being putting a beautiful engagement ring on Wim’s finger.

The next hurdle was a MASSIVE one, and I had to clear it on my own without Wim’s support.

Roora (Lobola)

Roora (known as lobola in Ndebele or dowry in other cultures).

This is one area where, as a young man in our culture, you are on your own. Your girlfriend/fiancée cannot help you or contribute to raising the money for the roora.

The roora indicates your commitment and shows that you will be able to take care of your future wife.

However, it had a big unknown – how much would the roora be?

We searched for indications or hints from Wim’s family as to how much the roora/lobola would be, but there were none. Even though other family members had gone through the roora/lobola process, there was no clear precedent for this as circumstances were different.

We reviewed the money I had been saving for this next phase and agreed on a projection that by the middle of the year I would have enough to initiate this next phase.

A couple of months after our engagement, we the Mpofus, sent word to the Nyabanis that we would like to come “kuzoroora” Wim – i.e. traditional marriage. The Nyabanis gave us a date in July.

The event was to take place on a Saturday evening. After church on the day, four of us were to drive in my friend’s Renault R4, from Chinhoyi to Harare for this special occasion.

Two of my friends and mentors were to lead the negotiations as go-betweens (vanyayis). These were mature, trusted men of high integrity with an impressive ability to negotiate. It is important to have people with “previous experience” to negotiate on your behalf at the roora, and these two definitely had loads.

To ensure that he was giving his boy his full blessings, my Dad said he would be coming with us. This was special and added to the significance of the whole occasion.

Just before leaving home, Dad sat the three of us down and asked how much I had saved for the roora. He then took some money and said, “Take this – add to your money”.

You don’t understand how special and touching this was. My Dad had been retired for a long time, but without a pension. He had worked as a domestic cook for several decades for this one family and only retired when the surviving mother of that family had been moved into a nursing home for full time care.

I still don’t know how Dad managed to save that amount of money he gave me on that day, but it meant so much to me.

When we arrived in Harare, we went straight to Wim’s tete’s place. Tete and her husband (Babamukuru) accompanied us on the final leg of our journey to the Nyabanis.

Upon our arrival, Wim quickly came to greet us and gave us a very warm welcome. She looked very happy and was smiling. She had a traditional head wrap on – she looked different but stunningly beautiful.

The plan was that my Dad and I were to remain in the car until the proceedings were finalised. My two vanyayis were to go in and negotiate on my behalf. I handed over the money I had to them. I informed them that I had a little extra money left with me and depending on how things go inside, we could replenish them.

They went in. After some fifteen minutes or so, Tete came out and said “Sekuru Mpofu (aka my Dad) should come in”.

Apparently when my two vanyayis entered the house and had been introduced, they advised that Sekuru Mpofu had also come. The Nyabanis insisted that it would not be proper that he should remain outside the house in the cold. Wim’s other brother and his family lived on the same block of flats. So, Dad was taken inside into the other flat, away from the deliberations, and made comfortable.

I was now alone in the car. But not for long.

After thirty or so minutes, Wim joined me in the car. She cheerfully announced that the deliberations had started.

Traditionally, her family would ask her if she knew these people (the vanyayis). As part of the ceremony, the bride has to pick up some of the money from a traditional bowl to indicate that she knows the people.This would give her family the permission to proceed with the process.

She had just completed this task. She was then asked to leave as the rest of the matter would proceed in her absence, as per our culture.

Now they were two of us in the car. She was happy. Chuffed to bits.

I was a bit apprehensive. Anxious. This was a massive hurdle and things could go either way.

Was the money we brought here enough to take us to the next stage – the wedding? I wondered.

Wim tried to cheer me up but that was difficult. I knew I was in great company, but my mind was not on the issues we were discussing.

Anyway, we will find out shortly, I thought.

Normally roora consists of some preliminary token charges and payments – these acknowledging and appreciating the parents for raising the young lady from childhood.

The main part of the roora is called “Rusambo” – represents the main monetary charge/contribution and “Danga” – representing a traditional gift of several cattle.

Normally, when the bride’s family advise what the Rusambo would be, the vanyayis would come out to discuss with those of us outside, to update, seek advice and agree the negotiation strategy going forward.

This is where I thought the money, I had left on me would then be handed over to my vanyayis and also get an indication of how things were progressing inside.

An hour had gone past. No sign of my vanyayis.

Two hours. Still no word from them.

Wim went back to the house to check progress. Quickly she came back with a wide smile. As she opened the door she said “It’s all over – they are done. I have been asked to come and get you so that my family can meet you”

Are you joking? I am not going anywhere on my own. I refused.

“Am I not going to be embarrassed? Maybe the amount of money I had for roora did not meet the requirements.” I thought.

“Please ask Babamukuru to come for”, I requested.

She came back with him.

“Makorokoto Babamudiki (Congratulations, young man!)” shouted the beaming and bearded Babamukuru. As I got out of the car, he gave me one of those bear hugs.

But where are my people – my two vanyayis? I could not make head or tail of what was happening.

On the way to the house we picked up my Dad and we made our way to the house with Babamukuru leading and we hesitantly entered the room. We were ushered to our seats, next to my two vanyayis.

The room was packed.

Introductions were made by one of Wim’s brothers introducing their side of the family. This was the first time I had met Wim’s Mum and Dad as they lived in the village. Wim’s aunt had also come all the way from the village where Wim spent her childhood.

Then one of my vanyayis introduced our side. He started with my Dad and then came to me with the words. “Uyu ndiye mukwasha wenyu” (And this is your son-in-law). This was music in my ears.

Yes, looks like we have cleared this massive hurdle! What a massive relief.

For most people in our culture, roora marks a full marriage and the couple may choose not to proceed to a white wedding ceremony.

However, I had so many unanswered questions.

What happened during the negotiations in that room and why didn’t the vanyayis come out for consultation with us? I wondered.

After the introductions we were ushered out of the room to Wim’s other brother’s flat where a delicious meal had been prepared for us. Over the meal my two vanyayis disclosed to my Dad and myself what had happened.

They handed over to me the booklet in which they had written the charges and payments. My eyes rushed straight to “Rusambo” and I couldn’t believe the figure that I saw.

Thank you the Nyabanis, I thought. This is what the traditional marriage is all about– it is about bringing the two families together and not to making life hard for the other party with exorbitant charges.

I will never forget that gesture that the Nyabanis extended towards us, the Mpofus that day.

“So why did you want us to come and consult when the money we had was sufficient?” one of the vanyayis joked with me as he laughed

The other one jumped in “We even asked if we could have their daughter’s hand in marriage (wedding) and they said Yes – conditions are at the bottom of that list”.

Normally these conditions would include things like you should have paid all of Rusambo, two of the cattle and bought clothing items for lady’s mum and dad etc.

We had cleared the final and most daunting hurdle! I went to pay roora and I came back with some change!

If I had wings, I could fly.

Wim’s take on proceedings

This day marked the fulfilment of my dream. Since moving to Harare, I had attended a number of weddings. The most exciting part for me was when the bride makes an entrance into the church; my heart would leap for joy, silently praying desiring that one day I would want to be the one.

Now the path had just opened for me to fully realise this dream. I was extremely overjoyed.

I was proud of my family for the spirit they had shown in the deliberations.

I couldn’t be prouder of Jabu for pulling this one off – saving so much money, in preparation for roora, in such a short space of time.

Later in our lives Jabu and I participated in a number of roora/lobola seesions – with Jabu chairing a couple of close family’s sessions.

Next blog will cover FAQs on Roora/Lobola (send your questions here Contact Us). We will also cover our Wedding Preparations.