Rambling Rush: How many cows?

THIS lobola calculator app has been creating some interest in the news of late.

It’s funny because before I heard about it I played a game of golf with a friend who has recently become a grandfather.

However, his daughter is not yet married to the father of the little boy, but that’s apparently in the pipeline.

He is immensely proud of his grandson, and has a pic of him on his rather old, cracked-screen cellphone.

So I asked him how the lobola thing works. I must be honest, I have very little idea as to its intricacies.

He explained that he was given a cow, worth about R9000, as his daughter had been a ‘viggen’.

His command of the English language is reasonable, his pronunciation not so much. He has a great sense of humour and we tease each other across the racial and cultural divide.

However, he explained that this cow was actually for the women in the family.

His lobola would only come when the marriage negotiations were complete.

He doesn’t seem worried. “The young man comes from a rich family,” he said with a wink.

Now with this app, you can supposedly answer a number of questions and voila, you come up with a number of  cows, an estimate as to a woman’s worth.

Apparently, the going rate is 11 cows, unless you are the daughter of a chief, but you can lose or gain cows for various factors, such as age, education, children out of wedlock, previous marriages, physical beauty etc.

Anyway, this all got me thinking about my own wife.

I think I can be extremely grateful that the lobola system doesn’t operate in my culture. I would be paying till Kingdom come.

My wife’s brother summed it up when I asked her father how much it would have cost me: “More than you would ever have been able to give.” Nice to see him so proud of his sister.

“Dave, you would have to negotiate first and bring a peace offering, like two cows, to start,” said her other brother, ever the ‘entrepreneur’.

“Don’t you know that you still owe me 100 prize cows,” said the father-in-law. Gulp. No, I didn’t.

“I’m not sure what is customary but I paid 50 cows … well worth my investment,” he added.

Interestingly, a colleague explained that she ‘didn’t know what she was worth’ in the sense that the number of cows her husband ‘paid’  has never been disclosed to her.

So my wife, how many cows?

She is the daughter of a chief or a king. I know that because she insists I call her Queen.

She came third in class in her matric year, so is very brainy. Unfortunately (or fortunately) she didn’t study after school, choosing to work, so this saves a cow or two as she doesn’t have a degree or diploma.

It doesn’t matter though, because she is always right. I know that because she told me.

Plus, she can cook up a storm so Chef School would have been a waste of time. I know that to be true, having gained 10kg since getting married.

However, she loses cows for lack of sporting ability, but then I was never really looking to marry someone who could out-drive me on the golf course.

She may have gained a small cow (or calf) if she could at least catch a ball.

She has no children from previous relationships (add two cows) probably because she hasn’t had any previous relationships (add five cows).

She also loses a cow for height. She can’t reach certain shelves, meaning I have to take a break from watching rugby to help. Not that I mind of course, it’s good exercise.

The funny thing is that she thinks she is a tall person but just isn’t, not at 5ft 2 maximum on tip-toes. But with 6ft 8 attitude.

But she gains at least seven cows for beauty. She is gorgeous and is among the fairest in the land. Again, I know that because she told me!

So, although my maths is very shaky (an F in school) I managed to work out, that, yes she probably is worth those 100 prize cows…