How to catch a wife, Chadian style

I follow the shadows in front of me. With just stars to light the way, I follow Samedi and Abre to Abre's house winding amongst the shadows in the shapes of pointed roofed huts, trees, tall millet stalks and brick fences.

We round a corner and the shadows dance on the walls of the compound in the flickering light of a kerosene lamp as the shadow of Abre's wife brings in some wooden stools for us to sit on. Then she returns for the formal greeting of curtsying at the waist and bending the knees to present her hand bent at a 45 degree angle down to be shaken by each visitor.

Abre presents his problem for Samedi and I to give advice on. Once the advice has been adequately discussed and accepted, Abre's wife brings out a small metal pot filled with pasta shells and a goat meat sauce. The repas is set on the rickety wooden "coffee table" and we lean forward and dig in with our large, flimsy spoons.

As we sit up, belly's full, I ask Abre what I think will be a simple question. It turns out to be a long, twisted story that I don't really understand until later.

"Abre, how did you meet your wife?"

Abre clears his throat and starts spinning his tale in his rich, deep baritone voice.

"I was back in the village. I'd come to Béré for high school. I went home on weekends. When classes were over I went home to work my field. I saw this girl from a long way off. She pleased me.

"A few days later, she came to draw water at our well. I had a mango in my hand. I offered it to her. She didn't want it. I insisted. I asked her why I would give her a bad mango? She took it.

"When she came back to draw water a few days later, I had a bunch of mangoes to give her. We started to talk.

"I told my father that was the girl I wanted to marry. She was from a village 6 km away but had come to go to the school in my village, Kalme, and was the servant of my neighbor.

"My dad said it wasn't wise to get a girl from that village, but it was up to me. He would pay the dowry, but then it was up to me. So he did.

"Half-way through the next school year, I decided it was time to find her. I heard she was in a certain village. I went there with my friends, but she had just left. I heard she was at the market, I went there with my friends, but she wasn't there. Finally, I heard she was back in Kalme. I went there to the house where she'd been a servant. She wasn''t there.

"I knew then she was back at her parents house. I called together three of my strongest friends. I told them that tonight was the night. They nodded and we left at 10pm to walk to the girl's village. When we got to the outskirts, I told my friends to wait. I left my bike a little farther on under a certain tree.

"I snuck into the village and stole into the girl's family compound. Stealthily, I made my way to her hut. I knocked on the door. No answer. I knocked again. Still nothing. I knocked again and whispered loudly 'it's me.' She opened the door and told me to leave. I refused. I told her to come out and go get my bike under such and such a tree. She said no so I grabbed her hand and made her come with me. She fought, but not loudly enough to wake her family.

"I brought her to my bike and then to my friends. We Took her by force home to my village that very night. We got in at 5am. That's how I got my wife."

I'm sitting there stunned. Not exactly the romantic love story I'd hoped for. Fortunately, before I could say anything stupid, Samedi pipes up with an explanation.

"That's our tradition. The woman should be stolen from her family by the man who's paid the dowry. He should get his strongest friends to go with him because the family will resist and if he's not strong enough to take his wife be force they'll beat him up. Then, a week later, the girl will get her girlfriend's together and they'll go to the boy for the marriage. But everyone will make fun of him and say he wasn't strong enough to fight for his woman. So, you need to strategize, come at night and bring some tough guys with you if you want to be respected."

The next night, I'm sitting around a similar table, only this time well lighted, with our Pastor Dieudonne Atchouma. I tell him what Abre had said last night.

"That's nothing," he said. "You should check out the tribe around Bongor. Their woman are tough. They all know how to use the bowstaff like the Chinese. From an early age, the girls practice out in the fields. When you want to get married, after you pay the dowry, you are sent off into the bush with the woman and you have to fight her. If you can't beat her, she'll beat you to a pulp and send you home with your tail between your legs and you'll have to find another woman. If you beat her however, and are able to disarm her and capture her and bring her home, then you've earned her and the village's respect and you can marry her.

"Those woman are fierce. Back in the days of the German colonists, they tried to conquer this people. They had guns and everything but they were beaten back by the women with their bowstaffs. They're hard-core."

James