The Funeral Feast
Life is fickle and short, it is many at times snuffed out of the unsuspecting fragile being when it is least expected and their families thrown into chaos, panic and grief. I don't know, but I believe that it is on this premise that a song was developed in my language that says "usen iba ke owo ake yene, usen emana ye usen mkpa".
This literally translates that "man has only two days, the day he's born and the day he dies". At first I found it amusing but annoying that anyone would take the pains to compose such an unfair song, where a man's whole life in between his birthdate and death date are reduced to nothing as if his life had no meaning.
That was up until my dad passed and the realities of our tradition beamed its bright lights in our direction. My mom was wrecked, my sister was distraught and my elder was caught up in a web where the cobs were traditional rituals and practices that his youthful brain could barely comprehend. It seemed as if everyone wanted their own bite of the corpse.
The mourn house was a beehive of activities, trespassed by professional sympathizers and pretentiously hurt vultures who were not concerned with the well-being of the family but to have the opportunity to dip their beak into the feast that was about to unfold.
The life of a once vibrant and quite generous man was about to be reduced to mere volume of food to be served at his funeral, the amount of people to get intoxicated at his wake keep, and the amount of paunches to be bred at his final respect.
As the funeral date drew nearer, more and more groups kept lining up to get their own bite of the funeral cake. The village came with their own outrageous list, the women sang their way through the looting of each family member, the men kept calling for more alcohol with hoarse voices that reeked of intoxication.
The youths kept their camp in the darkest corner of the compound, hissing at everything that passed to come pay homage as they battled the men in the ring of drunkenness. It was becoming a feast for the whole community and our reputation was gaining traction with I and my brother walking around with our heads held high.
Carried away by the pump and ceremony and the fact that we were 'killing it', I had totally forgotten that it was still a grieving time for the family and that the community had no interest in our well-being, but just to wet their own selfish intentions.
Strolling through the kitchen, I could hear arguments and murmurs about the women stealing and looting cooking materials in the disguise of helping out with the cooking process, mom was running up and down trying to fix the problem without causing much of a fuss.
I went into the house scanning the rooms, looking for more food and drinks to spread for the vultures outside just to enhance our reputation as the family that delivered a worthy feast for the whole community to savour. Only if I could give more, we would be the talk of the town for the next few days or even weeks.
As I left the room with money to go get more drinks for 'my guys', I ran into my mom
"What's the money for" she asked looking uncomfortable
"I want to get more drinks for the guys" I replied proudly
She held my hands and dragged me into her bedroom, away from the prying eyes of everyone else.
"Haven't you given them enough drinks already?" she queried
"They said that it's not enough, that they need more" I answered, confused about her concern
"See son, after this funeral we'll still eat and you'll still have a life to go back to" she started looking even more concerned "let them manage what you've given them already. Go and keep that money, you'll need it later" she added before walking out.
After pondering on my mom's words for a few minutes, I went outside to tell the guys that there was no more drinks, and the disdain started. Murmurs of how I couldn't even give them enough drinks started surfacing, accompanied by mocking giggles. But I just quietly walked away.
That was when I realized that it was all a charade, nobody really cared about the family, it was all just pump and 'efizzy' for them and my disgust for the whole tradition began. The community never helped in any way, and did not care the slightest for us. All they wanted was to turn our grief into their feast.
And No, it wasn't just about us but other poor families who have been ruined just because a family member died. Many of them have been left in humongous debts where they never recovered from. I believe it's time some of these traditions are abolished.
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With interesting images and excellent descriptions, you tell us about how mourning is assumed in your culture. Death can be a feast and an opportunity, just as vultures do, to feed. Greetings, @diikaan
Thank you celf
It is amazing how the pain of some can be the opportunity for others to take advantage of it. Your mother's decision was the smartest one. I loved your story. Best regards
It's something that is very rampant where I come from.
Thank you for stopping by
Your coming to understand that some traditions need reconsideration to better support families during difficult times is an important perspective. Nice write up
Thank you!
I totally agree. I personally don't see a reason why a family who would need all the help they can get having lost an important member of the family would be extorted in form of celebrations all in the name of "traditions". What then happens after eating like gluttons and drinking themselves to stupor? They would carry themselves back to their homes without as much as a backward glance to see how the family will be faring afterwards.
I hope in time, this things would be for those who wishes to and not a "compulsory" thing that must be done.
I am so sorry about your dad. May his soul continue to rest in peace.
I have a former classmate who was doing well with his business till his dad passed. He spent so much on the funeral that it touched on his business capital and he never recovered from that.
It was still those people that he was trying to impress that turned around to mock and talk down at him.
Thank you dear!
It's pathetic how some people derive pleasure in other peoples pain, just how sad it is for people to see advantage of a funeral to exploit others.
I guess it's a mirror of the kind of society we find ourselves
That does seem like a very odd tradition, that the people who are struggling and grieving with loss are held accountable to entertain and to provide an endless supply of food and beverages. Your mother is very wise. Even in such a difficult time, she had her head on straight and was ready to advise you.
Thank you for sharing your creative nonfiction story in The Ink Well, and for reading and commenting on the work of other community members.
I congratulate you for your story. But what you said is true. There are many people who go to funerals, but it is for eating, drinking and smoking. Have a happy day.
Death is certain too bad some tradition value the dead more than the living and sees burial ceremony as means of acquiring weath.
Some traditions are just sad. I agree this tradition should be abolished.
Thanks for sharing it.