I n Uganda, a wedding is a big deal and I mean, big deal.
Depending on the couple and their families, it even becomes more of a big deal. A lot of time and resources are devoted to making it the most beautiful and memorable experience.
Effort is put into making the bride the world’s only princess waiting for her knight in shining armour.

I had the honour of attending my high school classmate’s wedding to her sweetheart all the way in Fort Lauderdale, Florida.
This happened to be the shortest and perhaps simplest wedding that I have attended in my adventurous life.
For starters, there was no fuss about almost anything.

The invite said the only gifts the couple wanted were ‘Your presence and your prayers!’
Everything from the wedding ceremony to cocktail and dinner were held in the same venue. The ceremony was in one large lounge which could have passed for a long and large corridor. The cocktail was outside the dinner hall.
I nearly jumped out of my skin when I bumped into the groom in the corridor as he carried out normal chores like he wasn’t the groom.

My black beauty of a classmate had really short hair and a small hair piece on her head. Her beautiful gown fitted her trim body perfectly. I wasn’t too sure I could say we were actually age mates. She had hardly changed from our high school days.
Oh how beautifully she smiled when she walked down to meet her groom.

The actual marriage ceremony lasted not more than 15minutes or thereabouts and the couple happily walked out after the traditional kissing of the bride.
I thought the couple was simply going to do a change of clothes as is common back home and then return for the service to continue. But alas! It was done. Just as quickly as it had begun.
I quickly recovered from the shock and was even more shocked or rather awed by the simplicity that followed with the taking of pictures, chit chat and mingling with the crowd in a cocktail which led to the dinner.
There were hardly any speeches save from the couple and a few friends.

The deejay had a good time as we were called to the floor to dance to one hit and then another.
You should have seen my excitement when a Ugandan song shot through the speakers. It was almost unbelievable, quite magical in fact! Suddenly all the Ugandans in the room were on the dance floor doing a good thing with what their mamas gave them. It was a beautiful moment.
It did not matter that the mzungus who joined the dance were significantly off-beat. In fact one fine gentleman remarked, “It’s not that I don’t know how to dance or to keep with the rhythm. It’s just that I’m normally dancing to the previous song.”
I still smile thinking about his joke. It was original.
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