On Thursday, Nov 6, Betsy and I were invited to attend a chief’s funeral by Papa. It was the most exciting event I have had since I arrived to Africa. The chief’s name is Nana Anarei Kokortoh and he lived in the town right next to our called Hwidiem. He was 75 years old when he passed. I never had the chance to meet him, but I have heard great stories about him. Many students that needed help with tuition received scholarships from him. I was honored to get the chance to attend this ceremony.
Needless to say it wasn’t like the funeral’s back home. On Tuesday he was laid in state for people to come by to see and to give condolences to the family and community. However, the people don’t believe that he is dead- and that is it. They believe he has taken a journey to a new state of life. Much like Christians believe in transcending to heaven after dieing. Hundreds of years ago when a chief died someone was sacrificed to carry the chief’s bags to the next stage. Luckily this tradition hasn’t been practiced for centuries due to further education.
I rode in a large van with many teachers and administrators from my college. As we approached the town we saw signs directing use to the ceremony. We got out and followed the crowd of people dressed in black and red fabrics to the tents filled with community members and visitors. Vendors came by to sell red bandanas with the chief’s name on them, which many people were wearing, and a rope necklace with red and black. Papa told us that this is a traditional accessory that people wear at African funerals. He bought us each one to wear.
After walking down to the area with around 10 tents of people sitting we began our greeting. We walked around to the people sitting in the front row of these ten tents and shook their hands. I must a shook between 120-180 peoples’ hands. At one journey in the hand shaking we came to a group of men that were guarded by boys holding out symbolic staffs and a large group of people to ask who we are. This I believe was the family of the deceased. One of our group members explained who we were and asked for permission to shake hands, another formality, and then we preceded past the guards. Later I saw people bringing gifts to the family, which included a cases of Fanta wrapped in cellophane tied in a brightly color ribbons and a goat.
Chiefs from around the country also came to pay respect. You could tell when a chief arrived, because they would have a large entourage that included people holding large umbrellas, three to four people playing traditional drums, a person to dab their sweat from their brow, someone to hold their hand out to shake others hands, and a few men that held large guns and from time to time shot them into the air.
Once our hands were done being shaken we walked back up the road we came in on, and I thought we were leaving, but then we turned a corner and came into the courtyard of a house. We were in a single filed line with Papa and other tutors from the village leading the way. They led us to a doorway that had a sheet in front so you have no idea what is inside. Guarding the sheet were two men dressed in military wear holding rifles. Our leader asked for permission for us to enter. After permission was granted I walked through the sheet and realized this is the chief’s viewing. I hadn’t seen a dead body since my mother’s funeral- and had wanted to keep it that way, but since he was lying in a large gold post bed with nice attire I was happy I had this experience. Papa also told me that we could take pictures if we wanted, but I just couldn’t at the time. We exited the back door of this house and were greeted with the man at the back door shooting gunshots into the air that sounded like fireworks.
We walked back down to the tents and found seats. This is when the people watching really began. Also countless vendors showed us the multitude of products and memorabilia you could have for this event. It seemed like I was at a popular bands concert. They sold fans, t-shirts, programs (nicely bound like a soft back novel), key chains with a bottle opener, and pins-each item had either the chief’s face and/or his name printed on them. Other vendors sold bracelets, candy, handkerchiefs, and kebabs. It was amazing. I left with a red and black bracelet (thanks Betsy), a bottle opener key chain (thanks to a coworker), and my new funeral rope (thanks Papa).
No comments:
Post a Comment