Columnist Gasant Abarder celebrates 15 years of marriage next week. But in this #SliceofGasant, he writes that despite the beautiful customs and traditions of his beautiful Muslim wedding in 2007, it is still not recognised as binding in South Africa and notes the risks that this poses to his wife, Laylaa Abarder.
Abarder, who recently launched his book, Hack with a Grenade, is among the country’s most influential media voices. Catch his weekly column here, exclusive to Cape {town} Etc.
I always tell mates that for my wedding anniversary I want a non-custodial sentence – or ‘buitestraf’, as it is known on the Cape Flats. The joke speaks of the time you put into an age-old tradition that has lost its shine in these modern times. Marriage works because of the time you put in.
On Thursday, this week, Laylaa Abarder and I will be married for 15 years. It is a chunk of a lifetime. I am panicking as I write this because I don’t know what to get my lovely wife for our anniversary or where to take her. It’s the crystal anniversary, you know.
Google tells me: “The traditional 15th anniversary gift is crystal, an enduring material that symbolises the lightness, clarity, and durability of your love. The modern gift is considered to be a watch or other timepiece, representing the many hours and minutes you’ve spent together, as well as the years to come.”
Time spent isn’t just time spent together. It is often the time spent apart, showing your love language. It is the 100 percent you always give – and not keeping score of what your partner is doing. It is often the simple things. Doing the dishes, cooking a meal, running an errand. Because, if each partner brings 100 percent to the table, then it’s going to be a massive success (with thanks to my former boss Colleen Louw for this advice!)
Thing is, I’m terrible at buying gifts. I’m terrible generally at the big occasions that should be memorable. I never properly proposed until our 13th wedding anniversary because we agreed to get married while holidaying with friends.
So, two years ago, during lockdown, I got down on one knee with a real – and second – engagement ring and proposed to my wife. I cooked an incredible dinner and even sang Laylaa’s favourite song from Dirty Dancing’s ‘I’ve had the time of my life’.
I love being married. It has its ups and downs. There are many ups. The beautiful children we share. The quiet, stolen moments away from those children. Hahaha! Achieving goals together. Laughing, crying and hurting together.
There are many downs too when you tell yourself, “I don’t like her right now but I really do love her.”
Many couples choose not to do it formally and make a success of making a life together with the kids, the house and the whole nine yards without ever saying I do. That is cool if it works for you. To each their own.
The nasty reality is that my marriage to Laylaa by Muslim rites is not even properly recognised in this country. She has little to no protection as my spouse and if I choose to walk away from it all, she will have next to nothing to back her up in court (despite there being one or two precedents). It will lead to a complicated mess of a legal battle to assert those rights.
The 15 years will mean nothing. There are men, in the name of my Muslim faith, who have taken second or third wives, who can disown their wives via SMS because Muslim marriages are not really binding despite promises by our President Cyril Ramaphosa. He made this promise during Ramadan to the Muslim community during an Iftaar dinner ahead of the most recent elections, nogal.
There are lone voices who’ve fought hard for Muslim marriages to be recognised, like attorney Igshaan Higgins, who has become an authority on the rights of women in Muslim marriages.
So, I’m going to pick up on a new trend of married couples getting re-married. Renewing their vows, if you like. But this time it won’t be in a mosque as the groom saying in Arabic “Qabiltu Nikaha linafsi bi dhalik” (meaning, I take full responsibility in accepting to marry you as my wife’).
(Also, fellow Muslim chaps: please can we stop that practical joke? You know, the one where you advise the new groom that what he is supposed to recite is, “Qabiltu Qabaltu, neem die perd na die stal toe”? It was funny the first time!)
This time I want the whole nine yards. The tuxedo, horse-drawn carriage and a proper photoshoot (with photos that are in focus this time), a decent haircut and dancing. But most importantly, with a marriage certificate and a proper marriage license that will be recognised in a South African court that sets out our legal obligations to each other as a couple. And to our families should either of us pass on.
Perhaps that will be my gift to Laylaa on our anniversary on Thursday. An invitation to her wedding in a court, accompanied by all the bells and whistles. I’ve already proposed!
Because who needs buitestraf when you can live your best life with your person? I choose to stay on the inside. With the ball and chain. Binnestraf!
Happy anniversary, Laylaa, and may we share another 15 and many more happy years together. Thank you for choosing me!
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Picture: Gasant Abarder