After the Mass Wedding, What Next? The Question Nothern Governors Must Answer
By Haroon Aremu
Hundreds of brides and grooms sit side by side, surrounded by colourful decorations, gifts, prayers and government officials.
For a few hours, everything looks perfect. Then the ceremony ends. The cameras disappear. The officials leave. The wedding clothes are folded away. And the newlyweds return to a very different reality.
What happens next? That is the question Northern Nigeria’s growing culture of government-sponsored mass weddings must confront.
There is little doubt that these interventions bring genuine relief. With unemployment, poverty and rising living costs making marriage increasingly expensive, government assistance can help young people who might otherwise be unable to start families. But marriage is only the beginning.
A wedding can be paid for in a day. A family must survive for decades. Imagine the morning after the celebration. There are no cameras. No speeches. No ceremonial gifts. There is simply a husband and wife facing rent, food, healthcare and, eventually, children’s school fees.
What happens if the husband cannot find work? What if the wife has no income-generating opportunity? What if children arrive before the family has achieved financial stability? These are not arguments against mass weddings. They are arguments for thinking beyond them.
Islamic tradition treats marriage as a responsibility built around care, maintenance, protection and compassion. The lives of the Prophet Muhammad (SAW) and his companions also demonstrate the dignity of productive work. Many were traders, farmers and craftsmen. Khadijah (RA), for example, was a successful merchant, while Abu Bakr (RA) was also engaged in trade.
The lesson is simple: people do not need to be wealthy before marriage, but families need a pathway to survival and dignity.
That is where government policy must go deeper.
The important question should not be: How many couples did we marry? It should be: How many families will still be thriving years from now? How many will have businesses? How many will acquire vocational skills? How many will have access to farming and other productive opportunities? How many children will remain in school? Those are the outcomes that will reveal whether mass weddings have become meaningful development interventions or simply impressive ceremonies.
Because solving the cost of a wedding does not automatically solve the cost of raising a family. And then comes the bigger danger. Who is waiting outside?
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As children grow, economic hardship can force parents to spend more time struggling outside the home. Children may receive less supervision. Education may suffer. Frustration can deepen. And eventually, another question appears:
Who is waiting for those children outside? A farmer? A teacher? A vocational trainer? Or a criminal recruiter? Poverty does not automatically create criminals. But unemployment, exclusion, weak education and hopelessness can create vulnerabilities that criminal and extremist networks exploit.
The recruiter may not begin with a gun. He may begin with a promise, money, belonging, purpose or opportunity. By the time the weapon appears, the recruitment may already be complete. This is why the fight against insecurity cannot be left entirely to soldiers and security agencies. It must also involve education, employment, skills and stronger families.
Why stop at the wedding? This presents Northern governors with an opportunity. Why not transform mass weddings into Mass Family Empowerment Programmes? A couple could receive marriage assistance and then gain access to vocational training, entrepreneurship support, agricultural opportunities, financial literacy and parenting education. The goal would be bigger than getting young people married. It would be helping them build families capable of surviving and prospering.
Imagine the difference between giving a couple a wedding ceremony and giving that same couple a wedding ceremony plus a livelihood. One celebrates the beginning. The other helps secure the future.
The success of these programmes should ultimately be measured years after the celebrations. Are the families economically stable? Are their children in school? Do the couples have productive livelihoods? Can they withstand economic shocks without falling into desperation? Do their children see a future worth pursuing? That is the legacy that matters. Because the North does not merely need more weddings.
If Northern Nigeria truly wants to reduce insecurity, the solution cannot stop at bringing young couples together in marriage; it must continue with investing in the children those families will raise.
Government should ensure that children from these homes have access to quality education, skills, mentorship, healthcare and opportunities that keep them away from the streets and the influence of criminal networks. Security agencies cannot win this battle alone. Soldiers, police and intelligence officers can confront criminals, but they cannot replace schools, jobs, responsible parenting and economic opportunity.
If government begins preventing vulnerability before it becomes criminality by strengthening families and giving children a reason to choose productive lives it can gradually shrink the pool from which criminals recruit. The most sustainable way to fight tomorrow’s insecurity may be to prevent today’s child from becoming tomorrow’s recruit.
It needs stronger homes, productive parents and children with hope. So, to the governors sponsoring mass weddings: do not stop at matrimony. Marry couples into opportunity. Because when the music stops, the guests leave and the photographs fade, the real ceremony begins.
And perhaps the most important question is not whether government can bring two people together. It is whether it can help them build a future strong enough to keep their children away from those waiting to destroy it. The wedding lasts a day. The consequences can last a generation.
Haroon Aremu Abiodun writes on governance, strategic communication and can be reached via [email protected].
