![]() Aunts, cousins, and older female relatives throughout West Africa often take on the role of "wedding consultant," helping to secure all the details of the courtship and ceremony.įamily elders impart detailed counseling once a couple has received the requisite permission from both sets of parents. It is customary in Ghana for aunts and other elders to play private detective, running what amounts to a background check on a future spouse to determine that person's reputation, health and wealth status, family heritage, and other vital information. Even today parents in some African societies still arrange marriages for their children. In countless African tribes from the east, the west, and the southernmost points, inclusion of nuclear and extended family members throughout the process of marriage has been a given. In some African societies a marriage is not official until a libation has been poured and a prayer offered requesting grace from those family members who have passed. The common denominator for our people the world over is family. In the Black community, what does this mean? What are the wedding rituals our ancestors and parents followed when they experienced this moment in their lives? How each of us interprets it creates the depth and diversity that defines us all.Įspecially today, when couples prepare to marry, we look for that perfect melding of all that represents our culture. The beat is profound, ever pulsing and uniquely ours. You can almost hear the ancestral drumbeat when you sit back and reminisce with family elders, leaf through vintage photo albums, listen to tales of life gone by. Respect for ritual and ceremony resounds from Tobago to Washington, D.C., and Oakland, California, like a deep-bellied gong amplifying, purifying, and forever reconnecting the soul of the diaspora. The joy in those chocolate-brown faces, the responsibility being fulfilled of sharing the good fortune with the community, the beauty of the surroundings, all reminded me of what a rich cultural heritage Black people share, no matter where we live. ![]() The memory of that moment has stayed with me. Together they walked and skipped and enjoyed one another as they passed by each family home announcing the good news before their day was complete. Symbolizing the strength and vitality of trees, the staff-like sticks were crossed to honor and bless the new life that was about to begin.Ī wedding had just ended in this village, and the youth were there to celebrate it. Young brothers worked to impress their female companions as the sisters blushed and experimented with their newly discovered charm.Ĭrossing sticks was one way Black couples at the turn of the century chose to show their commitment to one another. The young men wore dark jackets and light pants with colorful boutonnieres the young women sashayed in pastel-painted ankle-length dresses with delicate portrait collars. There was laughter in the air, the rise and fall of intimate conversation-with a Caribbean accent-and a group of about twelve or so teenagers moving across the field. Beyond the field, with the backdrop of an old fort framed by the setting sun, rushed the vivid blue ocean.Īfter a few minutes passed, we heard the unmistakable sound of happiness. Surrounding the field on three sides was a small village. ![]() My friend and I had ridden into a large, open field, one half of which was empty, the other half alive with a soccer game in full motion. I remember riding on the back of a motor scooter on the small island of Tobago, sister island to Trinidad just off the coast of Venezuela, when I happened upon a wedding.
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