MORONI, 29 September 2003 — He’s decked out like a fairytale Arabian prince, with a silver dagger and dragon-headed staff. She’s a princess in pink, dripping with gold and crowned with a glittering tiara.
Seated on the quilt of their nuptial bed, the newest couple to hold a “grand wedding” on the Comoros islands exchange longing looks as the relatives begin, at last, to depart.
They have a right to be relieved. The custom on the archipelago off east Africa forces many men to spend their entire life savings on gold, gifts and feasts to satisfy a tradition dating back more than 1,000 years.
And as with weddings everywhere, it is often a desire to please the parents that ensures tradition triumphs, despite the cost for couples in one of the world’s poorest countries. “They waited, they hoped, and now it’s happened,” said Rafick Soilihi, 31, clasping his bride’s hand, as she rested her head on his shoulder.
“It makes them proud, so they can hold their heads up in public,” he said, as his bride, Natacha, 33, took her eyes off him for a moment to nod in dreamy agreement.
The pair grew up together on the islands, lost contact, then met by chance at a Paris metro station five years ago, before returning to marry in a seaside villa in the capital Moroni.
Outside their chamber, boys beat skin drums as guests swayed and chanted. Old men decked in brocaded black robes talked in huddles, their matronly wives — veterans of grand weddings past — glittering gold and exuding scent.
“It’s a great day for me,” said the father of the bride, Mohamed Souffiane, 62. “There’s no words to express how I feel.”
While couples can marry legally without such a ceremony, only a grand wedding with a series of events over several weeks will maintain family honor in a society where the sumptuousness of the party is closely monitored by the neighbors. Some do manage to break with tradition — but at a price.
The bride’s sister, Vives, caused a stir in this well-to-do family when she married a French man without a hint of a grand wedding, much to her parent’s disappointment.
“I would never have had a grand wedding, I have more simple dreams, like love and freedom,” said 32-year-old Vives at the wedding. “In Comoros, family duty always comes before happiness.”
Blending ancient African custom with Islamic influences, the festivities were once held at harvest time on the tropical islands.
Now, they are a time for song and dance, but their significance on the island of about 585,000 people remains.
Only once a man has performed a grand wedding is he truly considered an adult in Comoran society, with the right to speak at public gatherings and wear robes of high status at weddings.
There were a few suppressed smiles of satisfaction among elders when the President of the Comoros, Col. Assoumani Azaly, put in an appearance at the ceremony in a suit — a glaring sign that he has not performed the ritual. “You can come with a Ph.D., a doctorate, but you won’t be able to hold a high place in society until you’ve held a grand wedding,” said one guest, sporting the skull cap and livery of the elders, as the president marched past.
Islanders say most men will eventually have to bow to tradition, but there are some who would rebel. Dissenters say the money lavished on guests would be better invested in business to strengthen the economy.
One such man, standing out like the president in a grey suit, said he had already married in a simpler ceremony and preferred to use his money to educate his five children.
“The problem is that the price is too high for young people facing such a difficult economic situation,” said Ali Djalem, 47. “There’s more and more frustration.”
Jewelry given to the wife by the husband can perhaps cost the equivalent of $20,000. Then there’s food for hundreds of people, and presents — consisting of wads of bank notes. A young man might balk, but elders wag their fingers at any signs of resentment, pointing to long-term benefits. In a country with no social security, some old men survive on cash handed out at weddings. Even the gold can be pawned by the couple, while relatives help out with the cost.
Anxious to prevent the tradition fading, community leaders periodically set spending limits, agreeing several years ago to cut the dowry paid by the groom to 50 pieces of gold from 100 — still costing the suitor more than $5,000.
For the new couple — already completing each other’s sentences — there are new priorities now wedding day is done.
“We have a house, but we have to think about...,” said Rafick, his words trailing off.
“Having children,” said his wife.