Sheema Khan is the author of Of Hockey and Hijab.
Weddings provide joyous moments in many traditions, and the celebration of nuptials between Muslim couples is no exception. The occasion can vary from simple elegance to a cascade of events designed to showcase the bride and groom.
Whether in Toronto, Amman or Jakarta, a few common threads weave through Muslim wedding traditions: a wedding contract, a gift (or mahr) from the groom to the bride and a public celebration (or walima). In addition, the bride keeps her family name.
The wedding contract is akin to a prenuptial agreement. It stipulates, for example, details of the mahr. I once met a Toronto cabbie who was memorizing the Quranic chapter titled “Women,” as part of his fiancée’s mahr request. In some Muslim communities, however, the mahr has become an exorbitant expense, as families may, for example, request a fully furnished apartment on behalf of the bride. (It isn’t supposed to be this way: The mahr should not entail financial hardship.) The contract can stipulate other arrangements, which can be financial, or even mundane. A friend of mine once wrote into her contract that her husband should buy her flowers every month.
The signing of the wedding contract is usually a private event, involving close family and friends, and a small celebration usually follows. The walima, however, is a larger wedding reception that follows any time after the wedding contract has been signed. It is paid for by the groom and is a public declaration of the couple’s marriage. Traditionally, the walima includes extended family, friends and neighbours – literally, hundreds of people. Like weddings everywhere, costs can be high.
Nonetheless, the spirit is to share in the blessings of that special day. And in times of conflict, couples getting married have sacrificed personal wealth in order to honour those less fortunate. It is a spirit inculcated by the teachings of Islam, such as the fast of Ramadan and giving charity to the poor.
During the war in former Yugoslavia, I received a wedding invitation from a Canadian couple of South Asian origin who asked for donations to be sent to a Bosnian charity in lieu of wedding gifts. They put the needs of people devastated by war ahead of their own at this auspicious moment in their lives.
In 2015, a young Turkish couple, Fethullah Uzumcuoglu and Esra Polat, chose to feed 4,000 Syrian refugees for their walima, serving many of them personally while in full wedding regalia. In their view, it was more important to donate money saved for the wedding celebration so that those less fortunate could share in the joyous occasion.
More recently, during the Israel-Hamas conflict, newlywed Palestinians have been finding ways to help those suffering in Gaza.
Here in Canada, I met two young Palestinian sisters with family roots in Gaza who had both signed their wedding contracts last summer. Wedding plans for both of them, however, were immediately put on hold once the conflict in Gaza began, as concerns immediately turned to family members: Were they alive? Displaced? Injured? The uncertainty of the fate of loved ones overshadowed concerns related to renting a wedding hall, choosing the decor, menu and playlist, drawing up guest lists, and saying yes to the dress.
As the conflict dragged on, each sister decided to proceed with their wedding plans. Life must go on.
At one of their weddings, guests were informed that money earmarked for wedding favours was instead being donated to Gaza. The bride eloquently captured the tension between joy and sadness in her speech, noting it wasn’t easy for her family to be at a celebration when their hearts were with their families, and all Palestinians, in Gaza. She spoke of the resilience and resistance of the Palestinian people, which in this instance was demonstrated by celebrating Palestinian love and joy in the face of immense tragedy. Indeed, the guests did celebrate that evening, enjoying traditional Palestinian music, dance and food.
At the other sister’s wedding, the couple used the occasion to educate guests about historic Palestine. Rather than using numbers, tables were referred to by cities and towns, such as Rafah, Khalil, Nablus, Ein Karem, Ramallah and so on. A tech billionaire and his entourage were seated at the Bethlehem table. Guests learned about the history and demographic information of each location. Each person also received a personalized Palestinian key – a symbol of homes lost in the Nakba in 1948 when roughly 750,000 Palestinians were expelled or fled violence. This was especially poignant for some guests who had experienced the Nakba firsthand.
While reflecting upon history, the resilience of joy permeated the occasion. Traditional Palestinian dancers, with their drums and booming voices, led a zaffe (celebration) as the couple entered the hall. Guests responded with boisterous zaghrouta (high-pitched vocal sounds), and joined in a lively dabke, a traditional Middle Eastern dance. Men donned elegant keffiyeh scarves. In attendance were a few relatives who had arrived from Gaza as refugees, following an arduous path that included the payment of bribes and onerous red tape. Nonetheless, they were thankful to Canada for providing safety and an opportunity to rebuild their lives.
The couple announced that they, too, had scaled back their budget, and sent a sizable donation to Gaza in order to share the walima meal with those less fortunate. The bride and groom provided a sumptuous meal for 80 people in Gaza, with priority given to pregnant and nursing women, the elderly, the sick and children. The Gazans were touched by the couple’s generosity for being included as part of a wedding ceremony located so far away in Canada. None of them had tasted meat since last October. They sent messages of gratitude, blessings and hope to the newlywed couple. In one video message, children held up a hand-drawn sign, saying “Thank you Canada.”
The resilience of hope still lives on. It’s a message that we can all take to heart. We can remember that Canada, in some corners, is still seen as a place of refuge, compassion and hope.