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Wednesday, June 19, 2013

HOW MUCH IS YOUR DAUGHTER?



This is what I imagine a letter girls like me would/should send when they get ready to take the trip down the aisle. 
 
Dear Future Husband
I have seen the way you have been looking at me lately and have picked up the badly dropped hints (I like that you’re clumsy). However before you hide a ring in my morning muffin and proceed to administer a panicked version of the Heimlich Manoeuvre, making it the most unforgettable marriage proposal ever, you should know the following; I am
-          24 years old
-          I have no children
-          I am a journalism graduate
-          My cooking is average
-          I hate housework
-          I am a general bringer of awesome
-          I laugh like I mean it
-          I do not know how not to speak my mind, which makes me kind of embarrassing in public
-          I have more wit and passion than sense
-          I will never be the most beautiful woman in the room but I have honest eyes.

I do not write this list to deter you from forging ahead with your intention to make an honest woman out of me, I write it only to equip you with all the information you may need going in. This is also to allow you to prepare a convincing negotiation strategy for when you discuss lobola with my father. This is important because if you have ever wondered why you cannot win an argument against me, clashing heads with my dad will bring this into perspective. If you are unprepared he will make mincemeat out of you and I cannot let anyone (but me) make my betrothed any sort of shredded pasta topping.

Speaking of lobola, apparently it is an age old customary practice where the man thanks the parents of his future wife for raising her from a girl to a woman. You have plenty to thank mine for. We’ll get to my feelings on being traded for money a little bit later.

Typically several factors come into play when a girl’s family sets the lobola price. I have heard that some of these are; education, sexual history, beauty and age.

EDUCATION
I am private school educated but I am not a snob I promise. Remember that one time we went to a shisa nyama joint and I told them I wanted my steak medium rare? See, not a snob. In all seriousness I don’t think it’s important to produce a list of all my academic experiences and achievements, though daddy dearest may beg to differ (disclaimer: my dad doesn’t beg). For the purposes of haggling over a future wife I must mention then that I do have a tertiary qualification. You can thank my father for parting with a lot of money to ensure that I do not embarrass you when your friends have intellectual conversations because I am the type who will offer my unsolicited opinion on most things – much like this column. Thank God then for making me curious enough to make the most of the opportunity to receive an education. My male friends say an educated woman is a prize because it liberates her mentally and financially so that she is not dependant on a man, which kind of trivialises the whole lobola thing, doesn’t it? If you understand that most nights this woman will probably fall asleep with a book in her hands and you will occasionally lose her to the characters in those books, soldier on player.

SEXUAL HISTORY
My father will read this so suffice it to say I would make it to the fourth day of the five-day Umhlanga ceremony.

BEAUTY
I am not coy about physical attributes. I know most people think I am too thin, to those people I say,” yo more than a handful is too much” and then I swish my wannabe hips and keep it moving. My face, my face, my dang face. Like I said in the list above I will never be the most beautiful woman in the room but I am pretty okay to look at, you don’t even have to be under the influence of any eye-altering substance to say “she’s alright”. However if you are the type of man who can only be kept by beauty then knock next door, I heard the girls there don’t sleep till after midnight, I am not the one. I don’t look presentable until at least 10am so if you want to wake up to this face for the rest of your life, fall in love with the quirks and call it a day. Besides, the most beautiful thing about my face is that I have my father’s eyes and my mother’s smile – on my face they are still together.

AGE
As previously stated beloved I am 24 years old, so for breeding purposes I am in my prime (I think). However for the people who have met me and continue to say to you “a young wife is more expensive because she is full of life” hate you my darling. I am only full of life after a cup of coffee and listening to misogynistic gangsta rap, before that I am full to the brim with nerd girl woes.

I certainly hope this will place you in a good position to negotiate successfully for me. I hope you understand as well that if you ever use this custom to “put me in my place” and remind me that I was sold and bought I will malfunction like you can never believe. See that’s the things with bought items; you can’t really trust the guarantee.
If my distaste at being bartered seems misplaced, forgive me lover. My feelings on lobola are that if I am going to gain a light bulb changer, a spider killer and a beer guzzler all rolled into one fart-through-the-night man then I should pay your folks too, no? After a heated and amusing conversation I had last week with some of my male friends they summarised their collective opinion by saying “Nono, lobola doesn’t end because your man will continue taking care of you even in marriage”. So I hit a man and that is the real explanation of why you had to bail me out last week.
Life is expensive enough without making love a commodity. However, should you succumb to this custom that is older than both of us then make sure that you part with a number of cows that will ensure that I keep my malfunctioning in check.  

Forever yours, (insert name)



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