Matron of the Bride, Part I

Although I have been asked, I have never been in a bridal party before—until this past weekend. Several months ago my seamstress asked me to be her matron. Joyce, widowed and in her fifties, was to be wed to the Bishop Nswana. Because details about someone’s responsibilities are oftentimes slow in coming, I asked a lot of questions before agreeing to be her matron.

Saturday started very early for all of us. Because the matron’s role (at least for this wedding) is to get the bridal party to the church on time I was up at 5:30 a.m. The rest of the ladies were up at 5 a.m., very impressive to me. At 7:30 I went to the house where they had stayed and found a number of ladies helping with make-up, nails, and hair. Having done my nails the night before, I was a little surprised because in 45 minutes we were to be picked up in the car. Well, in theory. And, it didn’t help that the living clock was 12 minutes late!

Right away I began helping Mrs. Ngoma with her nails—nail polish remover is scarce so they either paint over what is already on, or scrape it off with a razor blade. Can’t be good for the nails. As we worked on the bride’s nails (attached with airplane cement) I began singing some of Stevie Wonder’s songs to their amazement. After laughing, they joined in—“Isn’t she lovely? Isn’t she special?” and “You are the sunshine of my life . . . .“ I left to go dress as I was wearing satin and didn’t want to roast—I told them that I would be back at 8:15, and I wanted them dressed. When I returned, they were in their dresses, but still working on make-up  and hair!

One thing I have learned about Zambian weddings is that it isn’t always the bride’s fault that the wedding starts 1-2 hours late. We were ready by 8:40 a.m. but the car did not arrive until 9:20. Stay tuned for part 2!