Latest update August 19th, 2026 10:39 AM
June Ain’t What It Used to Be
Kaieteur News – Long time ago, June used to be two things: wet and wedded. It was peak rainy season and peak wedding season. People used to say, “It raining wedding in June.” Now it just raining rain—and complaints.
Back then, you couldn’t open a Sunday paper without seeing somebody’s daughter posing in a poofy white dress, half-suffocating under veil and makeup, with the groom beside her looking like he just realise how much the wedding cost. The newspapers had pages of smiling brides, nervous grooms, and proud mothers pretending not to notice that the father drinking since 9am.
But nowadays? You hardly see wedding photos in the paper unless somebody accidentally marry a Minister. Even the June bride tradition get wash away by the flood of “whatever month de relatives could travel.” People now marrying in March, October, even at Christmas! All because cousin Sheila and Uncle Ralph from Toronto could only get cheap airline tickets for the week after Labour Day.
And weddings these days? Big, big productions. Destination weddings in the Caribbean. Pre-wedding photoshoots. Drone footage. Chutney bands flown in from Trinidad. That is if your parents are loaded. But with all that modern splendor, one ancient tradition still holding strong—the Great Wedding Omission. No matter the budget, the guest list, or the seating arrangement, somebody always vex because dem didn’t get invite. Every wedding got that one aunty who waiting patiently, dress bought, gift wrapped, belly empty—and then boom! She scrolling Facebook and see the wedding in full swing. The whole family smiling, clapping, throwing rice… and she home watching Judge Judy, fuming.
Dem boys seh June might not be the queen of weddings anymore, but weddings still remain the number one source of joy, gossip, and silent grudges. Rain still falling, brides still walking, and people still bawling—not from love, but because dem ain’t get invite. Ah wedding is a celebration of love. But it also a reminder: love is blind—but guest lists ain’t.
Talk half. Leff half
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