Gabsile

Traditional wedding

****Siyanda Buthelezi ****

It's my traditional wedding day. Its different because im pregnant,  I have a very clingy man that goes as far as giving me a bath and bump rub every morning and night , a very strong support system, beautiful friends and the money. I didn't lift a finger or even plan this one because from the get go my husband thought it was best to hire a wedding planner and hand pick someone from my side of the family who would meet up with his parents and plan the traditional wedding . Our wedding planner thought my mother was a great representative but my cousin was too so Instead of one person there were two from my side and his mother.

I had my traditional dress designed to  accomodate a growing bump so instead of a pretty , mermaid , figure hugging , colourful traditional dress I opted for a bonanza dress with the traditional zulu  material on the top . I went in for  measurements but took a measuring tape with me on holiday and took daily measurements , updating our designer daily and probably pissing him off. Standing infront of a mirror as Sonini adjusts my isiscolo feels almost magical.  My designer ditched my plain idea and went in for a cleavage reaviling dress that slightly hugs my curves and hides the bump with ruffles that increase in size as they go down my body. Courtney calls it the stacked tutu dress and its true. Sonini calls it an almost gypsie dress and its also true.

Now I have two mothers and they get along so well , its not forced, its not something they do to make me happy. They genuinely get along , and I have a father. I think about all these people individually, and I keep crying which is bad for my makeup but man how could I possibly keep myself from crying tears of joy? My mother-in-law says she is my mother-in-love because she is a modern woman who loves me just like her own son , and she loves her grandchild whose gender we all don't know and again for the hundredth time I cry and I shouldn't but I do and that's why Im in here and not out there with my man and Mpilo is now sending a million texts to Courtney and -'if you keep crying you won't be able to leave this room with all the make-up touch ups" my makeup artist says with a warm but firm voice.

****Duduzane Buthelezi ****

My hands are shaking uncontrollably, dad only allowed two drinks and gave me a speech on how proud he is and how he finally feels like he trully did a good job raising us. He went on and on about Siyanda and even teared up when he mentioned having a grandson  . Mpilo and Senzo ran around twice on my command to check on my wife and they said she is just as nervous and the baby is fine.

My mothers gave me a hug and a teary speech on how they love us and are glad God brought us together while they are still alive because now they have this beautiful bond and are literally sisters , I thought I would feel better but I didn't and before I could sneak in a third beer it was time to head down to the venue.

Its a beautiful glass house with black metal pillars and large open doors . There are two waiters outside near the table waiting to serve the guests champaign or brandy. We stand in a line , my friends wearing the typical traditional male zulu attire going in before my father , two brothers and I. I stop by and gulp two Champaign flutes in an attempt to calm my nerves. The guests all cheer and ulluate when I walk in and I try my best to smile . We were meant to rehearse some dance yesterday for our entrance today but with all the drama we called our mc and told him to skip the dance.

****Siyanda Buthelezi ****

Sonini , Courtney , my cousin, her friends and I gather in my hotel room  and drink , I unfortunately have to drink orange juice while everyone gulps champaign and ciders . Mpilo texts Courtney that they have arrived and are seated so we all stand up , fix each other and leave the room. Everyone is wearing body hugging ,red dresses with tails that show a lot of cleavage , their hair is tied into low buns with beads and pearls while mine is tied into a high pony tail. We walk in a line , holding hands like nursery school kids and singing the songs we sang when we were young and playing on the street. Its childish but it helps to calm my nerves and when we reach the entrance the drunkards reach for champaign flutes and we all tease each other and laugh. My mother arrives and we walk in where everyone stands up , ululates and cheers for us until I sit down next to my husband.

I make a mental note to tip the deco lady because she understood the assignment and delivered. There are red fresh roses hanging from the ceiling , rectangular clear glass tables in four rows and glass look alike chairs with red bows wraped on their back. The table cloths are red and drop to the floor , there is gold cutlery , vases with beautiful red and fresh roses and instead of a serve yourself food area we  opted for a pre-ordering plan where the guests had to choose their meals when they RSVP and are going to be served while they are seated.

'Sthandwa sami I'm starving.  Can't I get a fruit or something ?" I ask my handsome husband and when he blinks I realise that he is crying. He looks up and sniffs a little, ' ahh first of all you're gorgeous , and I thought our table like everyone else's would have snacks" and I pull him into a comforting hug and kiss his forehead.

****Duduzane Buthelezi ****

Our brilliant MC guides us through our program , our parents start with the speeches , then my siblings and their partners and then my wife and I and our friends. We have our appetizers and drinks and our Mc guides us through a dance and then we play an egg game where I loose and them we dance some more and then we eat and people bring forward their gifts with their 2 minute speeches and we stamd up and start thanking people and people go home. We get on a plane to Capetown for our more intimate white wedding tomorrow.