In the 1990s, the concept of divorce let alone divorce parties—where individuals celebrate their newfound singlehood in defiance and fury—was rare. Marital strife existed, of course, but the way couples handled it was starkly different.
Women did not simply pack their bags and move into a new apartment to start afresh. Instead, societal norms dictated a traditional path for handling a crumbling marriage.
If a woman felt her marriage had hit turbulent waters, leaving was not the issue—where she ran to was. The unwritten rule was to return to her parents’ home, not rent a place of her own.
Once she arrived, she was not immediately confronted about the cause of her departure. Instead, she was given a day or two to calm down to process her emotions. Only then would her mother approach her, gently probing to understand what had transpired.
Once the mother had gathered the details, she would relay the story to the father, who would call upon trusted friends—an informal “hearing committee”—to help adjudicate the matter when the husband inevitably came to retrieve his wife.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the conflict, the husband’s family would also form a similar council of elders to mediate. Some men chose to send emissaries—usually relatives or close friends—to plead their case and urge the wife to return home.
When the woman finally expressed a willingness to return, her parents would not object. After all, they wanted the best for their daughter, and in their eyes, reconciliation was always the preferred outcome. However, the actual reunion was not a simple walk back into her marital home. It was a public affair, an event that laid bare all the wounds and grievances for the elders to dissect. The hearing committees from both sides would convene at the bride’s home, where the real reckoning took place.
This was a moment of excruciating emotional intensity. The woman would list every grievance, every betrayal, and every pain she had endured. No sin was left unexposed. The man’s indiscretions—especially infidelity—were dissected mercilessly before an audience of elders, uncles, and family friends. It was the ultimate moment of reckoning for any man, his shame mounting as the list of his transgressions unravelled before him.
Despite the emotional turmoil, the goal of these meetings was reconciliation. The committees would mediate, offering counsel and guiding the couple toward a resolution. But the process was never free. In keeping with African traditions, the man’s family was expected to pay a penalty—often in the form of goats, sacks of sugar, or other symbolic reparations. It was said that the compensation covered “what the woman had eaten in the house” during her stay with her parents.
This structured, ritualistic approach to marital conflicts is in stark contrast to how breakups unfold today. Now, when marriages hit rocky ground, the landscape of separation is vastly different. Women no longer feel obligated to return to their parents. Instead, they often seek refuge in a friend’s house or, for the financially independent, a new apartment altogether. The involvement of elders and family has diminished, replaced by more personal, often informal, means of reconciliation.
Today, close friends assume the role that hearing committees once played. Instead of letters, the distressed husband floods his estranged wife with incessant calls and texts, hoping to persuade her to return. In place of a solemn family gathering, we now witness relationship turmoil playing out in the court of public opinion—on social media.
Platforms like TikTok and Facebook have become the new arbitration grounds, where couples air their grievances, exchanging accusations and counter-accusations in dramatic, often theatrical, fashion. Some take their disputes live, venting to thousands of viewers. And yet, when the rage subsides and common sense prevails, many quietly reconcile—sometimes without even deleting the evidence of their online spectacle.
Whether this shift is for the better or worse remains debatable. The era of hearing committees, public confessions, and livestock reparations has all but faded—replaced by a world where breakups are documented in Instagram stories, and reconciliation is only a phone call (or a viral apology video) away.