UAE mass weddings: Young couples can now apply for 11th annual ceremony in Sharjah, December 2025
As the UAE prepares to mark its 54th Eid Al Etihad celebrations in December 2025, Sharjah Charity International has officially begun accepting applications for its 11th annual mass wedding.
Rooted in a long-standing Emirati tradition that promotes social unity and financial support for young couples, the initiative continues to grow in scale and significance, with expanded eligibility and digital access.
A Longstanding social tradition Anchored in Emirati values
The concept of mass weddings in the UAE dates back to 1998, with the very first event held in Sharjah under the patronage of the Emirate's Ruler. Since then, mass weddings have evolved into a prominent social model that reflects the Emirati community's deeply held values, chiefly solidarity, unity, and the importance of family stability.
Over the years, the Ministry of Community Development has led these initiatives to strengthen the social fabric by supporting young men and women, encouraging early marriage, and reducing the financial burden on new couples. The aim is not only to preserve cultural traditions but to ensure long-term family cohesion and happiness.
Notably, during the COVID-19 pandemic in 2020, the UAE adapted this tradition to the times by organising the first virtual mass wedding under the banner
'Emirati Joy.'
The event was conducted across five locations with 20 grooms in each ceremony, complying with safety protocols and demonstrating the nation's commitment to upholding its traditions even in challenging times.
Sharjah's 11th mass wedding set for december 2025
Sharjah Charity International has announced that it is now accepting applications for its 11th mass wedding, to be held in December 2025. The event will coincide with the 54th Eid Al Etihad celebrations and will take place under the patronage of H.H.
Sheikh Sultan bin Mohammed bin Sultan Al Qasimi, Crown Prince and Deputy Ruler of Sharjah.
The initiative, supported by the Ministry of Community Development, targets UAE nationals and select residents with strong ties to the country, offering them a chance to begin their marital life without the heavy costs typically associated with weddings. The overarching goal is to build sustainable, stable families rooted in Emirati traditions.
Applications for participation are now being accepted exclusively through the charity's official website—a move toward digital modernisation of its services. A dedicated committee will review submissions after the registration period closes to evaluate eligibility and select the participants.
Who can apply: Eligibility criteria
To qualify for the mass wedding, applicants must meet specific requirements:
Must be UAE citizens, children of female UAE citizens, or individuals born in the UAE whose fathers have rendered significant services to the country.
Must be unmarried at the time of application, that is, first-time grooms who have not been married before.
Must demonstrate financial need, specifically, the inability to afford the costs of marriage.
Exceptions may apply for those supporting their families due to a father's death or disability.
Vice Chairman of the Board of Directors, Mohammed Rashid bin Bayat, highlighted the purpose of this initiative: to offer genuine support to couples who wish to marry but are held back by financial constraints.
He encouraged young men and women to take advantage of this program, emphasizing its role in building strong, lasting families grounded in mutual support and cultural identity.
Milestones in the UAE's mass wedding history
While Sharjah has played a key role in sustaining the tradition, other Emirates have also contributed to its evolution:
Expo 2020 Dubai witnessed its first-ever traditional mass wedding in March 2022, sponsored by the Ministry of Interior and the Fazaa Social Security Fund. Held near the UAE Pavilion at Gayath Trail, the event hosted 100 grooms, with gifts provided to help them start their married lives.
In June 2019, Abu Dhabi hosted the first mass wedding for non-Emirati couples, a historic first. The event included separate ceremonies for grooms and brides, reflecting both inclusivity and respect for traditional customs.
In October 2020, facing pandemic-related restrictions, the UAE conducted a virtual mass wedding with 100 Emirati grooms, ensuring continuity of tradition under extraordinary circumstances.
Each of these events reflects the UAE's commitment to evolving its cultural practices while staying true to its core values, community support, family stability, and responsible financial planning.
Hashtags
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
New Indian Express
8 hours ago
- New Indian Express
Onus on community leaders to end child marriages
A disturbing trend that increased during the Covid pandemic appears to be here to stay. Child marriages, which mainly result from economic distress, have risen dramatically over the past few years in Karnataka. The state clocked a shocking 700 cases in 2024-25, surpassing all other states. The trend became visible in 2020, when Karnataka reported 184 cases; it recorded 276 cases in 2021-22, 418 in 2022-23, and has been ahead of Assam and West Bengal, other states with a large prevalence of child marriages. The districts of Chitradurga, Mysuru, Shivamogga and Haveri have recorded high numbers, with teenage pregnancies as an unhealthy fallout of these marriages. While there are many brave schoolgirls who stand up for their rights—like a minor from Challakere taluk of Chitradurga district who took the help of police—many more buckle under pressure. This shift in the social structure flies in the face of claims of development made by the central and state governments, especially in a progressive state like Karnataka. This gendered development impacts only girls, who are still viewed as a burden until their marriage. It is also a pointer to the fact that more girls are dropping out of school. Being pushed into the role of wife and mother at an immature age plays havoc with their health and stunts their growth as individuals and contributors to society.
Indian Express
18 hours ago
- Indian Express
26 books, 8 months: On reading for no one but myself
I have read 26 books so far this year. Mostly romances, a couple thrillers, and a self help thrown in between. I wish I could say I was on vacation all this while, but I have a permanent job, and one too many chores to worry about. What groceries to order, which days to do laundry on. And yet, I ended up crossing my yearly reading goal with four months to go. For me, there's no rush, no deadline to meet. Some months, I read six books – some others, I do not even touch one. But when I do, you best believe I enjoy the heck out of it. Since my introduction to Enid Blyton at the crisp age of seven, I was sucked into the world of words. Crime solving teen gangs to wizards going to magic school, rows of books lined up shelves at home. When the Covid-19 pandemic struck, I breezed through 75 titles in a year. If you ask me my secret, let me be honest with you – I do have other hobbies. I crochet and paint. I catch almost every movie in the theatre, indulge in the occasional television binge and hang out with friends when our schedules match. So, what's the catch? I invested in a Kindle early on, and thank myself for it every single week. I have always loved reading in the quiet of the night. Getting under the covers and picking up from where I left off while the rest of my family snored away in the dark was a superpower only backlit screens gave me. Whether I'm lazing on a beach, or commuting to work, the ease and convenience of carrying a tiny device around has made reading consistent and enjoyable. Switching between 5 books in less than 5 minutes, or having access to literally any title I want my hands on? Yeah, I'm a lifelong fan. Here's what everyone tells you: schedule reading slots into your busy calendar, try habit stacking – sandwich reading in between nighttime meditation and journaling. Keep and carry a book everywhere you go. The final boss move? Get an accountability partner. Join a book club or read along with a friend. All valid points, I admit. But unfortunately, none of those worked for me – because my friction wasn't external. I wasn't falling off my reading high because there was no book perched atop my bathroom shelf. I was fighting an uphill battle against a depleted attention span, and my crippling fear of judgement. I used to pick up books based on what others were reading or recommending, and in an attempt to look cool, pushed myself to sit through pages of a story I actually had little interest in. With social media tempting me every second I stayed away from it, I wondered why I was putting myself through this terrible torture at all. And then, I began reading solely for myself. I made a conscious effort not to care about what others thought of the stories I chose and genres I picked. I barely post online about my current reads, and nod politely when someone recommends I add a book to my TBR. Then firmly file that thought away for later. I let myself read seven historical romances back to back, or pick up a science fiction fantasy only when I want to. Life is too short to let peer pressure goad you into committing to a 600 page novel about dystopian societies struggling with class conflict. Because let's be real, Brandon Sanderson on a bad day can push you down a reading slump so bad, you would need fanfiction to pull you out. It's easy to slip into performative reading habits – the urge to dissect and discuss plotlines and story arcs often made me turn to authors and genres I hated but pushed through. I felt like I belonged to a larger community, but it came at a greater cost – my love for reading. I stopped reaching out for books, instead choosing to switch on Netflix or scroll for hours on Instagram. When online, I would watch people talk about poring over classics, and it would fill me up with dread. 'Am I not smart enough to enjoy literature?' With guilt, came isolation. But little did I know, I was looking for validation in the wrong place. I found my genre, and leaned into it. When you stumble upon your comfort tropes, bite down hard, even if people call you silly. I love romance, and eat it up in almost any shape or form. Serve it up in a spicy angsty platter with an 'enemies to lovers/forbidden romance' bow tied on top, and I would stay up all night to finish it in one sitting. Here's what I realised – if you know what makes you tick, choose it unabashedly. Reading shouldn't make life complicated. Whether you read to learn or escape, getting lost in between words should feel like a brush with magic. So the next time you feel like reading, put your phone down, or wrap the cover with newspaper. Go incognito and let the story pull you in, just like it was always meant to.
Hindustan Times
a day ago
- Hindustan Times
Spectator by Seema Goswami: Reject, don't regret
Growing up as an inveterate people-pleaser, I came rather late to the power of saying 'no'. As a child, a teenager, and then a young adult, I spent many hours of my life doing things that I actively disliked because I couldn't wrap my head around the fact that I could actually refuse to do them. Now that I look back, I realise that I must have wasted an entire year (if not more) of my life saying yes to stuff that I really should have said a firm 'no' to. Not everything deserves your cooperation. Say no to guard your time and peace. (ADOBE STOCK) Well, those days are long gone. Now that I am in my middle years, I have zero compunction about saying 'no' to people, no matter how awkward the interaction may become as a consequence. I think the transition occurred in the Covid years, when enforced solitude made most of us examine our life choices. And as I looked back on my own life, I realised that most of my unhappiness stemmed from occasions when I had said 'yes' despite my misgivings. And with that realisation in mind, I gave myself permission to say 'no' to anything that left me cold. The resolution made, I implemented it on my first trip abroad soon after the Covid restrictions were lifted. We were wandering through Spain, when an Indian couple turned to me, held their phone out peremptorily, and asked me to take their picture. The very thought of holding someone else's phone (which might as well be a petri dish of germs) brought me out in hives. In a previous incarnation, I may have tamped down on my germophobia, taken the photo, and spent the rest of the day obsessively sanitising my hands. But this time, I took a deep breath and replied with a simple, 'No, thank you.' The couple looked as if they had been slapped in the face, but I wasn't going to add any explanation to my refusal. 'No,' as the saying goes, 'is a complete sentence'. If you don't want to accept an invitation or do a favour, there's no need to explain. (ADOBE STOCK) Since then, I have deployed the power of 'no' in myriad situations, and I am much happier for setting up boundaries for myself (and for other people). At parties and dinners, I refuse to get brow-beaten by hosts who insist that I have 'just one more drink' or another helping of dessert. Initially, I would try and shame them into backing off by explaining that I was a diabetic. But now, I offer no sugar-coating (Oh! The irony!) to my 'no'. I have had my fill of your excellent wine, I don't want any seconds, and no, dessert doesn't occupy a separate compartment in my stomach. No means no. The same goes for invitations. If they don't spark joy (with apologies to Marie Kondo) in my heart, then I would rather stay home than waste my time pretending to have fun. Which is why, when a friend invited me to a bhajan evening at her home with her spiritual guru, I decided to adopt my new-found mantra and reply, 'Thanks very much, but no, I'm really not a bhajan-type person'. Her reply came back immediately. A laughing emoji followed by, 'I love your honesty!' Which made me think that all of us would be better off if we applied the power of 'no' judiciously in our own lives. From HT Brunch, Aug 16, 2025 Follow us on
