On Sunday we were invited to a wedding fundraiser for our friends John and Joy. Joy and I used to work together and also attend the same church.
This month John and Joy will get married. We won’t be able to attend as we will be in New Zealand preparing for our own daughters’ wedding. However, Liz and I went along to a fundraiser, so I thought I’d share about the process.
It seems to be a normal thing to fundraise for weddings. There’s lots of ways of doing it but since this was my first one I totally had no idea of the process. All I knew is that Liz and I would probably be the only white people there and stick out like a sore thumb.
In usual Kenyan fashion, it started an hour late. I’ve learnt pretty fast not to turn up to an event on time and Sundays are the best day to drive around in Nairobi. The traffic is much lighter than during the week, so what would normally take at least an hour, took 15 minutes.
We sat right at the back of a small meeting room. I got to sit next to Shiko who was Joy’s sister. There would’ve been about 30 people max at the event. It all started with buying a handkerchief for 100 shillings, which you then had to pin onto you (don’t have a clue why). As with any good event, there is food involved. So, we started off with tea, bananas, sausages and mandazis. Sundays are a busy time in Nairobi so this would’ve been the equivalence to lunch for most people.
The most important person at either a fundraiser or the wedding, is the MC. He’s the one who is meant to be the life of the party and make things happen. At the fundraiser, his primary job is to get as much money out of people possible in a fun way. He sets the rules for ‘fines’ like not taking part or coming late.
I had been warned to bring lots of small notes like 50, 100 and 200 shillings, which of course I did. Pete and I had already decided how much we wanted to give which was a winner because it saved us bringing a present back from our overseas trip next week. I was pretty happy that we didn’t get fined, although it doesn’t really matter because it was all going to the wedding costs.
I did however, buy 4 raffle tickets. We don’t actually need any more ‘stuff’ but people weren’t really buying this so I hoped to kick things off. There were lots of prizes including a live chicken, humungous watermelon, USB stick and a number of wrapped secret gifts. At the end of the day people bought up large on the raffle tickets which was great.
No matter how much I tell people just to treat us normally, it’s often far from it. People used to call me ‘their boss’ when I was just their colleague, simply because I’m white. Hence, I got to be on the VIP list and guess who got called up first to give their donation. Of course, I couldn’t just walk up the front, I had to be danced up the aisle. Normally I hide behind the camera but didn’t have a chance this time.
You get given a basket (mine was yellow) to hold. Then you have to count out the 1,000 shilling notes to give towards the wedding. The MC then gives people the opportunity to add to it. After this, the money goes to the accounts people to add to the funds. While I was dreading the whole thing, it actually wasn’t as bad as I thought.
Other people got to put in their amounts – family members, singles, marrieds or anyone else who hadn’t been given the opportunity. Within 3 hours the whole things was over.
Towards the end of the evening there was one highlight and that was the raffle draw. Yes, I got to win the USB drive which was great because mine had got lost. However, there was something much more fun to finish the day.
Basically there were two teams vying for the chicken, me and another guy. People were putting money on the chook, it was a bit like an auction. I REALLY didn’t want to take the live chicken home. I live in an apartment block, imagine what the neighbours would think? And I was really worried I would have to hold the thing, which was far from my favourite hobby. I got desperate enough to put 200 shillings on the other team. In the end they won by only fifty cents. I was more than happy for the chicken to go to the other guy, and he was a happy camper.