UADANE, Mauritania — The henna artist leaned over her client's hand, glanced at her cellphone to copy precise details of the design chosen by the young woman who lives in an ancient desert city in the West African nation of Mauritania.
Under the glow of the moon, young Iselekhe Jeilaniy sat cautiously on a mat, careful that the moist henna on her skin would not be stained, just as she did on the eve of her wedding.
But he wasn't going to get married.
Iselekhe Jeilaniy before the start of her divorce party in Ouadane, a small town in the desert region of central Mauritania, April 24, 2023. (Laura Boushnak/The New York Times)
He was divorced.
The next day would be her divorce party.
"Attention, married ladies: my daughter Iselekhe is already divorced," Jeilaniy's mother shouted to the townspeople, ululating three times and drumming on a plastic tray placed upside down.
He then added the traditional confirmation that the marriage had ended more or less amicably:
A henna artist, right, paints designs on Iselekhe Jeilaniy's hand the night before her divorce party in Ouadane, a small town in the desert region of central Mauritania, April 23, 2023. (Laura Boushnak/The New York Times)
"She's alive, and so is her ex."
Jeilaniy gave a chuckle, staring at his phone.
I was busy uploading henna photos on Snapchat, the modern version of a divorce announcement.
Family and friends of Iselekhe Jeilaniy dance and sing at her divorce party in Ouadane. (Laura Boushnak/The New York Times)
In many cultures, divorce is considered shameful and carries a deep stigma.
But in Mauritania, it is not only normal, but even considered a reason for celebration and to communicate that the woman is again available for marriage.
For centuries, women have gathered to eat, sing, and dance at each other's divorce parties.
Now, the custom is updated for the selfie generation, with dedicated cakes and montages on social networks, in addition to traditional food and music.
In this almost one hundred percent Muslim country, divorce is frequent; Many people have gone through between five and ten marriages, and some as many as twenty.
Lakwailia Rweijil, seated, who has divorced several men to whom her father continues to marry her without her knowledge, takes her daughter at her home in Ouadane. (Laura Boushnak/The New York Times)
Some scholars say the country has the highest divorce rate in the world, though there is little reliable data from Mauritania, in part because divorce agreements there are often verbal, not documented.
Divorce in the country is so common, according to Nejwa El Kettab, a sociologist who studies women in Mauritanian society, in part because the majority Maure community inherited strong "matriarchal tendencies" from their Berber ancestors.
Divorce parties were a way for the country's nomadic communities to spread the word about women's status.
Compared to other Muslim countries, Mauritanian women are quite free, she said, and can even pursue what she called a "marriage career."
As Jeilaniy carefully repositioned her "melfa" — a long fabric that wraps around her hair and body, a bright white chosen to highlight the dark henna — her mother, Salka Bilale, walked through the family courtyard and folded her arms, posing for photos for campaign posters.
Bilale had also divorced young, become a pharmacist and never remarried.
She was now running to become the first national female MPfor her hilltop village of Ouadane, inhabited by a few thousand people living in simple stone houses adjoining a 900-year-old ruined city.
Divorce was the reason Bilale was able to do all this.
She had married young, before she could pursue her dream of becoming a doctor, and divorced when she realized that her husband saw other women.
Her ex-husband, now deceased, wanted her to return, but she refused, so he cut off the tap financially, at first without giving her anything, and then only $ 30 a month to raise her five children, she said.
In desperate need of money, Bilale opened a shop and ended up earning enough to pay for his studies.
Last year a new hospital opened in Ouadane and, at 60, he finally got a job in the medical field.
Her daughters' experience was very different. Jeilaniy married much later, at age 29, and Zaidouba, 28, had so far rejected all offers of marriage, and preferred study and a series of internships.
Many women find that divorce provides them with freedoms they never dreamed of before or during marriage, especially in the first marriage.
The openness of Mauritanians to divorce, which seems so modern, coexists with very traditional practices around the first marriage.
It is common for fathers to choose their own groom and marry off daughters when they are still young — more than a third of girls marry before they turn 18 — leaving women with very little chance of choosing their partners.
Women often have priority over men in child custody after divorce.
Although men are legally responsible for paying child support, the law is hardly enforced and it is common for women to end up bearing the financial burden.
Although many women never plan to divorce, if it does, they find it easier to move forward than in many other countries, El Kettab said, because society supports them, rather than condemns them.
"They make it so simple that it's easier to turn the page," he said.
On the day of her divorce party, Jeilaniy applied foundation to her cheeks and highlighted her dark eyebrows in gold, as she had learned on YouTube.
Wrapped in a dark indigo "melfa", she walked out the front door and headed to the party, organized by a friend of her mother in the living room of her modest stone house.
Women dipped dates in canned cream.
Camel meat and onions with pieces of bread were served.
They would then eat handfuls of rice from a common dish, making them balls in their palms as they talked.
Small children crouched down and watched the increasingly raucous party through the open windows, which in Uadane are at the level of the sandy street.
The sisters' mother arrived and plopped down on the carpet near Jeilaniy, who had spent much of the party on the phone, texting and posting selfies.
The party was coming to an end.
Bilale looked at his eldest daughter.
"He's only interested in marriage and men," she said.
"When I was his age, I was already interested in politics."
Bilale got up from the carpet.
If Jeilaniy did not use her divorced status to advance her career and build her independence, then Bilale would concentrate on using hers.
He walked out the door in the direction of the kitchen, where he had seen some potential voters for the next election.
"I target young people to get votes," he explained.
c.2023 The New York Times Company
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