Sudan's 'wedding of the year'

[Ms DD]

Sudan's 'wedding of the year'

 

The BBC's Jonah Fisher, who recently left Sudan after more than two years as our Khartoum correspondent, reflects on the society wedding he attended shortly before he left.

 

Opheera (l) learned 75 dances for her husband Ati ®

It all began with the slaughtering of a weary camel and the distribution of the meat to the poor. And then continued night after night... after night.

 

Opheera wasn't actually there when she was officially married. Neither was Ati.

 

Both of their fathers had gone to the Ali Saeed mosque in north Khartoum, where in a short ceremony they agreed that their grown-up children should become man and wife.

 

The master of ceremonies at the mosque was one of Sudan's foremost religious leaders turned political celebrity - Hassan al-Turabi.

 

A close associate of Osama Bin Laden during his time in Sudan and through most of the 1990s, he was the ideological driving force of Khartoum's Islamist government.

 

Gunshots

 

Mr Turabi spent most of the last five years in jail - but now free he revels in his status as troublemaker-in-chief to his former friends in government.

 

Interviews with him can go on for hours - with Mr Turabi chuckling throughout.

 

 

Despite the many bloody events that took place while he was in government, in Mr Turabi's version of history, he is always the enlightened voice of common sense - calling for federalism when the government was being centralised - and tolerance of all religions - all of this while Khartoum was trying to force the mainly Christian south into converting to Islam.

 

Anyway, once Mr Turabi had given his official seal of approval in the mosque, the men headed back to Ati's house where we were met by the women, a parade of dancing horses and gunshots being fired in the air.

 

This was the prelude to the Jirtik ceremony - a ritual which has more to do with Sudan's pharoanic roots than any Islamic beliefs.

 

This is where the bride makes her first appearance - covered in red fabric and gold jewellery. It's the culmination of weeks of preparation.

 

Milk-spitting

 

Opheera had stayed indoors and been vigorously scrubbed for two hours every day to make sure her skin was perfectly soft and smooth.

 

She was led out by her new husband, Ati, waving a sword over his head - every inch the conquering hero in his white robe and red sash.

 

Jonah (l) will not be going on any more reporting trips with Opheera

Around him his male friends joined in waving their fists in the air.

 

Guyanese-born Opheera - an award-winning journalist with the Reuters news agency, a woman used to arguing with ministers and rebel leaders, followed behind - shielding her face in a traditional display of shyness and submission.

 

In front of several hundred invited guests, the couple jumped into bed together

 

There was no mattress or sheets but seated on a large wooden frame, surrounded by their relatives, the newlyweds went through an elaborate set of rituals.

 

The culmination of which is the spitting of milk - whoever out of the husband and wife spits it the furthest is said to be the dominant force in the future household.

 

Opheera and Ati diplomatically declared it to be a tie.

 

The next night is just for women and the bridegroom.

 

Screens

 

Opheera had learnt 75 different dance routines to show her new husband.

 

Thursday was the white wedding - 1,500 invited guests at a reception in the garden of a hotel on the banks of the Nile.

 

The guest list was a "Who's Who" of Khartoum society - President Omar Hassan al-Bashir, former rebel leaders, even war crimes suspects wanted by the International Criminal Court.

 

Of course they didn't all come but the banks of the Nile rocked with what was surely a never before heard mixture of Sudanese music, western pop and Guyanese rhythms.

 

As a journalist with more than a passing knowledge of TV production I couldn't help but be impressed with the scale of their video operation.

 

Four cameras fed their pictures back to a central gallery - which relayed the pictures onto eight huge screens around the venue.

 

There wasn't much point in physically following the happy couple around - every smile that crossed their lips could just as easily be seen on one of the screens.

 

Coke and water

 

With Sharia law still in force in Khartoum there was of course no alcohol - officially.

 

Thirsty expatriates ensured there were some spirits smuggled into the event - disguised in mineral water bottles.

 

I'm sure I saw a few knowing Sudanese smiles at the foreigners' apparent appetite for coke mixed with water.

 

The white wedding over, the next two days saw more parties before the couple headed off on honeymoon.

 

For Opheera and I it marked the end of more than two years working side by side.

 

Though employed by different news organisations we regularly travelled to Darfur together - there aren't many foreign correspondents permanently based in Sudan.

 

Even though newly married, Opheera will be back reporting in Darfur soon.

 

But next time I won't be with her. After two and a half years, my time in Sudan has come to an end.

 

Khartoum's wedding of the year was my last Sudanese story.

 

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/africa/6607637.stm

[JUSTICE]

Opheera had stayed indoors and been vigorously scrubbed for two hours every day to make sure her skin was perfectly soft and smooth.

That is the best part of being a bride, I like their traditions.Sudani ladies, especially married one's are always glowing.

[Aisha]

^^I found that bit to be hilarious!!! I was laughing soooo hard!

 

My mum was born and raised in Sudan and she always comments on how well a bride glowed due to the 'scrubbing sessions' she had.....lol