One sunny Saturday morning, as I navigated the bustling heart of Blantyre’s city center, my journey came to an unexpected crawl. The streets of the business district were choked with a sluggish procession of vehicles, inching forward like a lazy river. The culprit? A wedding. A jubilant couple, fresh from exchanging vows, had decided to transform their private celebration into a grand, impromptu public spectacle, commandeering the city’s attention.
A sluggish convoy slithered through the streets of Blantyre, a spectacle of flashing hazard lights and honking horns. At its heart, the newlyweds stood proudly in a topless vehicle, beaming and waving enthusiastically to onlookers—most of whom were complete strangers.
I have witnessed all sorts of antics fueled by the excitement of wedding celebrations. Some drivers weave recklessly in zigzag patterns across public roads, as if they hold exclusive ownership of the tarmac. Others, particularly the exuberant youth, dangle perilously out of car windows, their bodies half-suspended in motion, eager to flaunt their joy for all to see.
There is no denying that a wedding is a milestone event for those tying the knot—a day they will treasure forever. Months of meticulous planning go into crafting this grand occasion, with couples often stretching their budgets to the limit, splurging on elegant attire and elaborate decorations. Every detail is carefully considered to ensure the day is nothing short of extraordinary. For most, a wedding is a once-in-a-lifetime affair, and they feel entirely justified in pulling out all the stops to make it truly unforgettable.
That said, a wedding is ultimately a private affair, not a public spectacle—unless, of course, one or both individuals happen to be public figures. Take, for instance, the iconic 1981 wedding of Prince Charles and Diana Spencer. It captivated not just the United Kingdom but the entire globe. As heir to the British throne, Charles was a figure of immense public interest, making their union an event of monumental significance. Television audiences worldwide were treated to every moment of the royal ceremony, while newspapers across the globe splashed it across their front pages. Heads of state flocked to England, turning what was arguably the wedding of the decade into a historic, international occasion.
I can understand why Prince Charles’ wedding could slow down or even halt traffic in London—events involving public figures naturally become public spectacles. But then public figures rarely have the luxury of privacy. Even when they crave solitude, they are relentlessly pursued by the media. Reporters will go to extraordinary lengths to get a scoop. If word got out today that Madonna was arriving on a specific date and staying at a particular location, the press would camp there for days, eager for a glimpse. Such is the heavy toll of fame—the constant scrutiny and inability to escape the public eye.
If you do not command that level of attention, chances are you are not a public figure, and your wedding should remain a private affair. There is no need to disrupt traffic or inconvenience the public in any way. Yes, it is a monumental day for you, but that does not mean it warrants being turned into a public spectacle. Celebrate to your heart’s content, but keep the festivities within your circle of friends and family. Your joy is valid, but it should not spill over to disrupt the lives of others who have no stake in your special day.
What should be even more private than a wedding is the engagement ceremony, or chinkhoswe, which, over the years, has taken on a life of its own—becoming increasingly more public than private. I have written before about my concerns regarding this shift. Today, an engagement ceremony often resembles a wedding, part B, with nearly everything you would expect at a wedding—loud music, multiple rounds of forced giving (perekani-perekani), and so on. It is as if there is a competition to see who can attract the largest crowd to their chinkhoswe, as if the success of the event is measured by the sheer number of onlookers. What was once an intimate moment between two families is now an over-the-top public spectacle.
As a result, chinkhoswe has lost its true meaning – allowing the two families to come together and get to know each other. It has become something far beyond its original intent. What was once a modest and intimate function has morphed into a grand, community-wide event. To restore its significance, chinkhoswe needs to be re-engineered back to its roots: a simple gathering of two families, not an extravagant public spectacle. The focus should return to fostering meaningful connections, not impressing a crowd.