Yoruba, Ibo, or Hausa?

2 American Whites Marrying in Nigeria 50 Years Ago

Each of my weddings was a memorable event in its own way. Not only were my lovely brides very different, one from another, but the geographic and cultural settings were worlds apart. One took place in a relative’s fancy apartment on Central Park West in the Big Apple. Another occurred in a lawyers office in San Jose, Costa Rica. But, let me tell you here about my most exotic wedding which happened in West Africa almost a half century ago.

I was then living in Lagos, Nigeria—- the ‘armpit of Africa’ if you look at a map ——— working as a consultant in educational test development to replace the British Colonial System from which the Nigerians were trying to shake loose, and the US Government was deligted to assist.

The big picture: Nigeria had been a British Protectorate and Colony from 1901 to 1960. I was there around 1970; stayed for two years. Nigeria had inherited English as the official language, and lots of Civil Servants organized into various government ministries. Still, there also survived a fairly strong tribal fabric (that had existed before the Brits ever touched shore.) The three main tribes were: the Yoruba, the Ibo, and the Hausa.

The Yorubas were in the West (including Lagos, the old Capital, where I lived). They were very artistic, about half Christians, half Animists (the belief that all live plants and animals have a soul.)

The Ibos were in the East and were the most educated and mostly Christians (though they were popularly called the Jews of Africa, due to their receptivity to learning and education.)

The Hausas, in the North were (and still are) mainly Muslims (having been converted by the Arab Slave Traders, generations earlier) and mostly uneducated (especially if you were a girl.)

So, my white American bride and I (white European-American) were getting married in Yorubaland. We had 3 methods to chose among: by Registry, that is the modern way where it’s all written down in the government records, or by one of the many Christian Churches, or by ‘Native Law and Custom’ (courtesy of the Yoruba Tribe: no forms, nothing written down; a Yoruba-man can have as many wives as he can afford and wants——- the way it used to be before the Colonial Civil Service, and the Missionaries arrived. How about that!?……..

Being conservatives at heart, we picked ‘by Registry’. After filling all the required forms (in long hand, no computers visible yet) and paying the fees, we had to present ourselves at the Ministry of Internal Affairs. Hmmm!

About a half hour after the appointment time, the official in charge showed up. He was a heavy-set, middle-aged black man with the familiar Yoruba tribal scars on his face and wearing a buttoned-down white shirt, tie, and suit jacket. The temperature that day, about 95 F or 35 C——- a small floor fan was gyrating mercifully.

To start the ceremony, we had to chose a sacred book to swear upon: only 2 options—— New Testament, or Koran. Too bad if you were a practicing Jew, Hindu, Buddhist, or Atheist. They might be in trouble at this point.

Next, I had to swear one-by-one, that I was not: her father…., or her son…., or her brother…., or her uncle…. . She then had to swear that she was not: my mother, or my daughter, or my sister, or my aunt. It seemed that incest was really a strong taboo!

Then we were allowed to sign our names to the marriage contract, followed by the 2 witnesses, and the Interior Affairs (tsk) Official himself, who thereupon pronounced us man and wife.

The small bouquet of wild flowers I had hurriedly presented to my bride (in an empty Campbell Soup can) when we arrived at the Government Ministry, was probably something quite unforgettable for her, in its own right. It had held up about as well as we —— all a bit wilted!