End
of life Traditions
(You may or may not find this blog of interest. I
write it mainly for the purpose of my own record and share it for any who are curious.)
Not
long after we arrived in Kakamega, we saw first-hand some of the regional customs
when a person dies (other areas have different practices). With our office on
the main thoroughfare through town, every week we hear the noise of what sounds
like a festive parade. It’s the commotion of mourners. Thursday is the day allocated for bodies to be
taken from the mortuary to the village home to begin funeral and burial
ceremonies. Dozens of boda-bodas, tuk-tuks,and matatus (local taxis) carry people through the
community as they support the grieving families with waving tree branches, honking
horns, and vocalizing emotions while the casket is being transferred. We knew there were other associated rituals
when a loved one passes but we had not attended a funeral until recently.
On
March 22, the father of our Territorial President for Women’s Ministries,
Commissioner Grace Chepukurui, passed away. In Salvation Army terms, he was
‘promoted to Glory.’ (I like that term). He was 95 years old and had suffered a lot of
illness over the past five years. A
faithful member of the church and a caring father, Grace described him as a
‘pillar’ of their family and community. Not long after his passing, we were informed
that the two day funeral would include a church service on Thursday and then a
burial/celebration service on Saturday. The burial site would be the home
compound which is customary for most.
The
church service happened at Commissioner Grace’s home corps, attended by about
300 people – family, friends, church members, community neighbors, and officers
from around the Territory. We arrived at
the church just before the service began but no one was inside. Everyone who was attending (besides us and a
few others) had joined the procession from the mortuary. Soon we saw the large
convoy of people coming behind the small hearse. The crowd quickly filled the corps building
as the casket was placed at the front.
As the family took their seats, we noticed that Commissioner Stephen
(the TC) was not sitting with his wife. Family tradition requires the spouses
of the daughters to be separated during the days of the funeral and burial. Grace
had been residing with her siblings over the past several days and would remain
with them for some time after the funeral.
The
2 ½ hour service was filled with lots of joyful singing, some prayers, and many
speeches. Every child (ten in this case)
plus their spouses and their children all made comments about their loved one.
Aunts, uncles, cousins, nieces, nephews, and church members were invited to
speak as well. A sermon was given, followed by a benediction which led to the
viewing of the body by everyone who was present. The casket had been closed but
was now opened and everyone walked past to pay respect. Following the service, the body was taken back
to the family home. We gathered in the
yard to watch the zig zag procession around the grounds until it reached its
resting place. It was set inside a small
tent just in front of the house and would remain there until the day of
burial. We were quickly invited to a
neighbor’s house for lunch and did not get to see Commissioner Grace because
she remained with her family. We learned later that so many relatives came to
stay at the house that some of them slept outside.
On
Saturday, we attended the second part of the funeral, an even larger gathering.
Many more from the community (church members, government officials, educators,
hospital staff, fellow employees of the children, etc.) as well as scores of Salvationists
and Officers, about 6-700 altogether, had come to share with the family. Tents were erected on a school compound to
accommodate the crowd and help shade all from the hot sun. The casket was
brought from the family home and placed just off to the side in an open tent.
It was opened during the service and people were casually viewing the body
during the program.
The service began at 9:30 a.m. and finished near
3:00 p.m. (I was glad I had a few peanuts in my purse!). Once again there was much ‘celebrating’ with
jubilant singing, tambourines & drums, and traditional dancing. At first, various churches in the community
presented musical items. Traditionally every church gets included – no one is
left out because community support is highly regarded. Everyone is expected to
provide practical assistance so everyone is integrated. I was reminded that many in the western world
would consider a funeral a more private event while here it is very public and
focused on community.
Lots
more speeches were given, then a Bible sermon (by the Territorial Commander of
Kenya East), and prayers offered. Each
family member, including Grace’s mom, all the immediate offspring, and many
extended relatives spoke. Other speeches
came from community members. The Emcee tried hard to move the proceedings along
in a timely and respectful fashion being conscious of the length of the service
and the pending rains looming as grey clouds began to spot the blue sky. We
were told that the Salvation Army actually keeps their funeral services short, others extend beyond five or six hours.
Before
the sermon was given, an offering was taken which would help the family with associated
funeral costs. The price of funerals can be very steep and no one has insurance.
On top of regular expenses, providing meals for the large number of people who
come for visitation during the days of the wake and the services, as well as renting
tents and PA equipment were some of the extra costs incurred by the family.
At
the end of the service, time was given for government officials to speak. While
they were instructed not to use the event as a political platform, everyone
quickly knew it was. This was a very different part of such a gathering for us
but apparently quite common.
As
the proceedings were concluding, the casket was closed and brought into the
middle of the compound as various groups marched around and draped ‘nets’
(pieces of sheer white lace material) over the coffin. A traditional closure, this finished the
public event for the day. We had a short time to greet a few people and then
taken to a nearby home to eat (it is always important to feed visitors). Grace
and her immediate family, excluding her husband, went back to the family
compound for the actual burial. They
would stay together for three more days and finally share one last Memorial
Service together.
As
we walked through this new experience, we could not deny the significance of traditions
for people. Family and community practices can provide solace as long-established
conventions give people something known and memorable to lean into when a
change, like death, has disrupted their lives. Traditional norms can become routine and eventually
people may not always focus on why they are repeating the activity, but they do
so simply for comfort. A few times we asked ‘why is this happening?’ and were
told, ‘because it’s tradition’. We
resist any criticism to that response because conceivably some of our practises
are comforting too, purely through repetition and familiarity.
I
have always affirmed the value of community. God created us to support each
other. The Bible says there is a time to carry our own burdens and a time when
sharing the load is the better plan. Times of sorrow definitely include the latter.
A
couple of songs surface in me as I write this blog. “Lean on me when you’re not
strong. I’ll be a friend. I’ll help you carry on …” And
also one I heard a few years ago when one of our church members lost his
brother. While it may have been
particularly relevant for the loss of a sibling, the message resonates again now. A 1970’s song, “He ain’t heavy, he’s my brother … it’s a
long, long road, from which there is no return. While we are on the way to
there, why not share the load …”
Whatever
traditions happen across the world, it is enlightening to learn what people
find helpful. Regardless of the form or practice, perhaps we
can find more space for understanding than judgement. And may none of us ever find
it a chore to use whatever means possible to care for each other - to the end
of the road.
