this kind of marriage is impossible

On our day safari to Arusha Park, we were completely mesmerized by a pair of dik dik. Part of the fascination is that they’re adorable; as adults, they’re not much bigger than a house cat. But another thing about dik dik is that they mate for life and do not “re-marry” if their mate dies.

“This kind of marriage is impossible for humans,” our Tanzanian park guide declared as he was introducing us to the ways of the dik dik. 

It was a sad thing to hear. But it’s been even sadder to learn more about how marriages tend to unravel here. Of course there are many factors involved, but one theme is clear: there is a pretty deep-set pattern of men taking up girlfriends and wives whenever, for whatever reason, or for no good reason (that we can appreciate) at all.

We know it’s much too soon for us to comment on the nature and quality of marriages in this part of Africa, we haven’t spent any time with local married couples. But we have heard some accounts that make us want to vomit or scream or pull out our hair.

Because our housekeeper, Mama Cris, hasn’t been able to bear children, her husband assumes full license to kick her out, leave her, or take another girlfriend or wife whenever it suits him. That is if he hasn’t already since he’s often away for weeks at a time unannounced. And even if Mama Cris had already given birth to many children--boys preferably--it’s not unlikely that her husband would eventually take other wives anyway. 

“This is what our African men are like,” said one of our Swahili teachers back in Arusha. Women we meet are bursting with similar stories--boyfriends or husbands demanding boiled water for morning showers, hot meals cooked round the clock, fresh pressed laundry and no questions asked when they’re abusive, disappear or cheat or lie. Men tend to believe they are entitled to this kind of life and have been encouraged to think this way from childhood when their mother and sisters did all the housework and they played football or drank soda under the mango tree. 

It’s true that I have yet to hear many men tell their side of the story. We will have to report back. But I have heard a few dismiss women’s grievances with a cold “Women here just want money. They don’t want love.”

Unfaithful husbands, domestic violence, broken marriages, greed, mistrust--we’ve heard it all before haven’t we? It’s not much different than in the US, or other parts of the world right? Yes, we know that far as the curse is found, this is true. 

But here we see very clearly that if you are a poor woman living in a poor country your options are dismally few. Opportunities for employment are hard to come by, jobs if you can land one, pay little and the chance to further one’s education or develop new skills is extremely rare if not zero. Not to mention that the burden of child rearing falls virtually entirely on the mother. 

Mama Cris said she envied how Duncan and I are always together, doing everything, deciding everything together.  And we know how blessed we are, and thank God. 

“Change will come,” said another one of our Swahili teachers, a wise lady in her 70s. “Slowly, change will come.” 

And we pray that it will! Even if right now it seems a ridiculously broad or impossibly intangible thing to pray for, we do pray that change will come. That relationships between men and women will one day soon be as God intended them to be, in Mwanza and beyond, far as the curse is found. 

(Dikdik photo by Yong Ly...thanks Yong!)