If you are a millennial or older and grew up in Rwanda, you must have heard the statement “urankubita warankoye”, or probably said it yourself. Translated as “did you pay my dowry for you to hit me” it was widely used by people in Rwanda not so long ago—said to someone who was threatening to beat the other. Even children said it in school, although they most likely didn’t know what it meant. Traditionally, beating a woman who was not one’s wife was more frowned upon than when the woman was one’s wife, and this saying demonstrates how casually this kind of violence was attributed to dowry. Nevertheless, a woman whose family did not receive a dowry has no value in her own family or her husband’s. A man whose family did not give a dowry is also powerless and cowardly. If he cannot afford a dowry, how will he provide for his family? Modern-day dowry is afforded by one man in many, like Rwandans like to say (ibona umugabo igasiba undi). And while dowry may have worked historically depending on the context, it is not relevant anymore. It may not be a payment to abuse one’s wife, but it is used as a weapon for domestic violence in some instances. Before I get stoned for this, let’s first set the record clear. What is the actual tradition? A 1984 book most historians refer to when talking about Rwandan traditional marriage rituals “Ubukwe bw'Abanyarwanda” by Sylvestre Ndekezi, says Rwandan dowry generally consisted of a calf (baby cow), but it could also consist of goats and hoes. Just like now, dowry differed depending on what part of the country people lived in. In most parts of the country, it was a traditional hoe known as isuka ya cyozi, also known as the greater dowry (inkwano nkuru) and a calf. In other parts, a calf was converted into multiple hoes. In Kibungo it was about 10 hoes, in Kibuye they were about six, and in Gisenyi, Gikongoro, and Ruhengeri it was about eight hoes. Generally, Rwandans traditional dowry consisted of one calf and one hoe, or between six to eight hoes, and for the poor, they would only give their ancestral hoe called Isuka ya Mbogo. For people of the lowest social standing, a dowry consisted of services rendered by the future husband in the home of his future father-in-law, which was equivalent to a free marriage. Traditionally, asking for more than one cow in dowry was regarded as deception (ubunyamusozi). Wanting to give more than one cow and bringing a lot of alcohol to your future in-laws was widely regarded as disrespectful. It implied that you thought they were poor and you wanted to make them rich quickly. While I cannot speak for the ancestors who practiced the tradition for possibly centuries, it looks like dowry was not meant to compensate or cover any wedding expenses of the in-laws. It was a mere gesture that two families sealed a pact, and they have now become one extensive family. Most importantly, dowry was not meant to make anyone any richer. It wasn’t meant to determine the value of the bride, because it depended on the means of the man who intended to marry her. For the self-acclaimed culturists who worship modern-day dowry and say it is just a token of appreciation to the parents have it wrong. The culture shift from one calf to loads of cash and possible denial to marriage because one can’t afford dowry doesn’t sound so Rwandan. Hardly anyone wants to even hear about a literal calf or hoes today, despite the fact that agriculture remains the heart of our beloved country. Just like the practice of exchanging both items has become irrelevant in some places, dowry itself has lost relevance. Women don’t belong in the kitchen The moment dowry is given, a woman is also expected to carry to her new family certain items known as ibirongoranwa. They consist mainly of things one would not be wrong to call a wife’s work tools in a typical patriarchal household. Bed sheets, kitchenware, rugs, and other cleaning material dominate. While this would have been relevant two decades ago where those were literally her work tools, a modern woman should not be obliged to carry them. Just like dowry, these items also differ depending on the area. In Bugesera, for instance, brides have to also take a bicycle and mattress, and in some areas, a TV as well. Ndekezi also wrote in his book that a woman would carry igisabo (Rwandan traditional butter churn), urusyo n’ingasire (stone mill), baskets full of ghee, a food pot, hides to make the marital bed, and a gift for her mother-mother-in-law, among other things—which one would say translate to what we see in modern marital rituals. On this note, Alexis Bigirumwami wrote that a woman from the former Rukiga region—now Burera and Gicumbi districts— would carry a calabash with alcohol that she would share with her new husband and a basket where she put her wearables and everything else she was given by her family to take. In other parts of the country, Bigirumwami wrote that additional equipment included a food pot, flour, a plate, and a calf. Yes! She would take a calf to her new home, except when her family was poor and she and her husband would receive it in the future as indongoranyo (a calf born from the dowry cow). Does dowry incite GBV? While dowry may not directly incite domestic violence, it may be used as an excuse to commit or get away with it. In modern marriages where dowry is calculated based on a woman’s worth- education level, employment—and not taken as a mere symbol of pact sealing— then one would not be wrong to say it is literally buying a wife. Some families that belong to the same social class of wealth may not find this relevant because dowry is literally just a cultural symbol for them, but everyone else—meaning about 70 per cent of the population who are either poor or vulnerable to poverty—have to dig their pockets deeper to afford dowry. The culture has shifted from sealing a pact to monetary transactional practices which end up making the whole arrangement catastrophic. In some parts of the country, men toil for dowry, women wait for it so they can use it to plan their wedding. The woman who has received a certain type of dowry will also be expected to bring items of a certain value, otherwise it is deception. In the end, when conflicts arise, she is asked to be the “bigger person” because after all, they paid for her, and sometimes she thinks so too. Sayings like kereka ntaramukoye (unless I didn’t pay her dowry) or abaye ari njye bangarurira (if it were me, they would give me balance) are said casually in informal discussions and people burst into laughter. Also, the 2020 Rwanda Demographic Health Survey reported that 65 per cent of women found wife-beating excusable because of different reasons including burning food, checking their husband’s phone without permission, and more. So the saying urankubita warankoye is not empty. What to do? Families should instead put more effort into supporting their children to create their own families within their means and together. One should bring what they can afford irrespective of traditional gender expectations. We cannot keep lying to ourselves that modern dowry is a traditional symbol because it is not. It is an extortion method to some and a cover-up of domestic violence to others. Some people argue that it depends on what kind of man one marries, but also, why take the chances? For self-acclaimed culturists who want to preserve dowry, how about we maintain a calf and a hoe, and translate that into six to eight hoes if we can’t afford it? You see, it is not dowry if you can’t afford it, and it definitely is not dowry if you want more than what the tradition stipulates. It is just a gesture after all, right?
