Money and Marriage in Morocco
Weddings aren’t cheap. I have friends who used to be in the floral business and they told stories of customers spending nearly $20,000 just on flowers – and these were not even top-tier weddings. At the higher end of the spectrum, families can easily drop a college tuition’s worth on the big day.
Yet, despite the potential cost, it’s rare to hear an American man claim that he can’t marry the woman he loves because he doesn’t have the money. Yes, it does happen, and sometimes a family will prevent a woman from marrying a man they don’t approve of (not always for financial reasons), but for the most part, people can get married when they want, and buy the best wedding they can afford.
I personally don’t know of anyone who was unable to marry the object of his or her desire for financial reasons, and I never heard someone complain that he or she had to wait to build a nest egg first before getting married.
In fact, it’s common in the west for a couple to get married and live modestly as they work together to build their life, family, and fortune together. No so in the Middle East.
Here, more often than not, a man has to have his financial ducks in a row before popping the question. He needs to show his potential bride’s family he has the wherewithal to support her. He must have a respectable place to live, a job, and he needs to provide a suitable dowry, buy a nice ring, pay for an extravagant wedding, etc.
It’s a strikingly different model than in the west, where a man can often win over a woman’s family based solely on character and potential. In places like Morocco, a man’s proposal is usually met with: “Show me the money.”
And that’s why it’s getting more and more difficult for men in particular to marry. A generation ago, men would marry at an average age of about 24. Today, it’s around 32. Why? Largely because of economics.
Times are tough; good jobs (sometimes any jobs) are hard to come by in many Arab countries; the cost of living is going up faster than wages, and as people are telling me here in Morocco, social pressure has grown over the years, and there is more competition over the grandeur of weddings. When it comes to marriage in Morocco, size does matter.
Today I spoke with one a man, Said, who is 20 and in college. He’s studying economics, speaks several languages, and plans to graduate and search for a high-level job. He’s a sharp guy who taught himself English, and knows how to make a buck. Much of his motivation stems from the desire to be able to get married and build a family. He says he feels pressure to build and “prepare” himself for marriage because it’s one of, if not the, most defining and important aspects of Arab life.
He introduced me to a friend of his, Jowad, who is 34 who is also “preparing” for marriage. He sells fish in the market, and makes a modest living. He has a small place of his own, but it’s not big enough for his fiancé should they wed.
Her family doesn’t feel he’s the ideal candidate. They have flown in men from across Morocco and Europe – businessmen, “successful” men who can offer a far more comfortable future for her.
So far, she’s sticking by her man and has rebuffed these suitors. But, Jowad is worried – he knows he only has another year or two to build enough of a fortune to afford to marry her. After that, she will have to go with a better offer, even if she doesn’t love the man as much as she loves Jowad.
He doesn’t blame her, and he says that her refusal to accept one of the other offers has given him strength to keep working to save up the $45,000 he says will be necessary to pay for a nice house and the wedding.
Jowad tells me that he really didn’t think seriously about marriage until he was 27. At that point, a combination of family pressure and growing up made him realize he had to get focused on his future.
To make matters worse, Jowad says that his father calls him weak for being so old and still single. It stings he says – as does his fiancé’s family’s efforts to find a more financially secure potential son-in-law. But, there’s not much more he can do right now if he wants to marry the love of his life. Yes, he could find a woman who would cost less to marry, but he wants to marry for love if he can.
This last point gets to the heart of the issue. In Morocco, a single male is not a man. Regardless of his age, he is not fully a man and respected by society until he has a wife. He can be ostracized at work in and in society – and the longer it takes to get married and enter society, the more pressure, self-doubt, and frustration he is likely to experience – the frustration is on many levels since the rules of the road here say no sex before marriage. So having to contain one’s urges an extra seven years doesn’t help.
No society benefits from having a growing population of young men who are economically, emotionally, and physically frustrated. And while Morocco might be one of the most liberal Arab countries, young people, especially single males, don’t have many outlets for their energy and frustration here. That’s one of the reasons why researchers and others are starting to focus more attention on the issue of delayed marriage in the Arab world, and the implications for the region and the rest of the world.
And that’s why some young people like Said are focused on getting educated and finding a good job so they don’t end up like the Jowads who are racing against the clock and trying to make up for lost time.
But, as Said explains as we sit at a café surrounded by single young men who are drinking tea, smoking hash, and staring at women passing by, he’s not exactly the rule – especially in the lower middle class neighborhood where he lives. Even he admits it’s hard to keep focused. He’s spending much of his summer relaxing with friends and going to the beach. I jokingly ask him if he should be working to save up to get married. He lets out a guilty laugh. “Yes, you are right,” he says, “I am worried about that.”

