Funeral Season

During the dry weather it’s also funeral season since there isn’t work to do on the farm people can know spend time on the funerals, which are quite involved. Although the person is usually buried right away, the funeral celebration can occur a lot later. In some cases even years later because of money constraints and other reasons. It’s expensive to hold these funerals since you’re basically hosting all your extended relatives and families are quite big here. Pretty soon after I arrived in fall one of the community member volunteer teacher Thomas’ father passed away. The funeral for his father and 10 other people started last week in the Kunkwak section of Gbedema. Funerals are open to anyone and are also a social gathering so many of my students like to go for that aspect. Chris and I rode bikes to greet the families and for me to experience a local traditional funeral; he also answered my plethora of questions during and after. His good friend Edward’s father was also one of those the funeral was for.

I don’t know the significance but tradition here dictates that when a baby is born the naming ceremony occurs 3 days after birth for males and 4 days after birth for females. In the same way, funerals for men last 4 days while funerals for women last 5 days. The reason for the extra day is mid-way they need a day to rest. I asked why and Chris said it was because women need more rest than men. But I decided my own feminist reason is because women work so hard in life (especially here) that they’ve earned an extra day. Since this funeral was for 11 different people, including women, it was 5 days long with the day of rest on the third day.

I’d been hearing ‘gunshots’ a lot recently and it took me way too long to realize it was related to all the funeral celebrations that have been going on. When you hear them then you know either someone has passed away in the house or a funeral is being performed; they’re a sign of mourning. Turns out the ‘gunshots’ aren’t produced by typical gun and bullets but rather a local ‘gun’ created by putting ‘medicine’ in the ground, mixing sand, poking it with a stick, and then lighting it to make the ‘gunshot’ noise. I’m still not quite sure on what all that means but hopefully one day I’ll get to see it…

Since people are coming from all over, there are many different processionals as I like to call them and it’s very similar to the drumming I witnessed at the Feok festival in Sandema in December. The men usually wear their northern smocks and helmets with horns on them and play the drums while women run alongside them making the ulily noise (think high-pitched yell). Women might be wearing funeral clothes which might be black. Sometimes there is also wailing and crying to show mourning.

The forefathers here were using the locally made mats to sleep on in the past. The belief is that once a person dies their spirit resides in the mat. So today even though people don’t sleep on these mats anymore, after someone dies a mat is used to represent the person and is symbolic of their spirit. During the first 3 days (for males) or 4 days (for females) after a death, the relatives will sleep in the deceased’s hut and will stand the mat vertically during that time. Afterwards they find a storage place to hang that mat and more mats if additional people in their house pass away. Once the funeral takes place, the mat is an important part of the funeral put on display first, sometimes covered with cloth. Then, at the end of the second day, they burn the mat (since the spirit is inside it) to give the spirit a way to be released and help the spirit move closer to the ancestors. At this point the spirit is not yet with the ancestors yet but is on the way to the ancestor; a road of sort. After the funeral is completed, another three day long final process called ngwomsika (3 days) is performed so the spirit can pass through the ‘door’ to enter to the ancestors. The ancestors reside in the ground. Traditional food including TZ, rice is also cooked during this time.

Besides the mats, I saw photos of each person on display as well as luggage. The stuff a person has acquired is brought out from their room to symbolize all the property they own. Plus if you don’t bring out the person’s belongings, people might think you are trying to rob the dead person. Each person who is part of the family of the people the funeral is for wears body paint of sorts. It’s made with local sand mixed with water and is painted in stripes on people’s foreheads, arms, and legs if exposed. It’s a way to identify the bereaved. I asked Chris specifically about the widows since I’ve hear of different widowhood rituals in Ghana, including being forced to marry the husband’s brother and being exposed naked in public. During most of the funeral the women stay inside together and nobody can touch them during the funeral. Finally on the fourth day, they are brought out to bathe for the first time in three days and then wear whatever special clothing they have. Then during ngwomsikia, the widow is prepared to have water poured on her having someone shave/bob her head and then apply shea butter on her body. Traditionally the woman was naked except for leaves on her private parts and it was boiling water. The belief is that if you were wicked to you husband the water would burn you but if not then you were a good wife. Today they use strips of cloth to cover her private parts and the water isn’t really boiling but just warmed. Once this process is over, she is free to marry again.

As I mentioned before, the funeral is a social gathering and for many it’s an excuse to drink alcohol and dance. When I went to the funeral again on the fourth day, I was offered pito in a calabash. Pito is the local beer made from millet (or sorghum) and is either sour or sweet. I don’t really enjoy it that much but took a few sips so as not to be rude and also for a photo op. It’s served in a calabash which is a cleaned and smoothed gourd that looks like a bowl.

A couple of nights ago Chris called me and said ‘Your friend, the station master, has died.’ The station master was in charge of the transportation in the town and liked people in general. He was always really nice and friendly to me. His name was Acuiana and since I first came her he’s made me feel so welcome by coming to greet me, bringing me milk and eggs, and making sure I have a seat on the lorry when I try to go to market. He liked for me to come to his house (where Chris is also from) and greet his family so Chris and I would go periodically to do so. Sadly he had a problem with alcohol so his death may have been related to this though we’ll probably never know. He has four children inscluding a baby girl who was born in December and who he liked to joke I named ‘Awenteme’ (God’s gift to me). I was hoping I had taken a picture of him with the baby girl and his wife but I just snapped the wife and baby alone. I wanted to end the post with a picture of the two of them in memory of Acuiana.