Funerals in Ghana are much different than those I've ever witnessed or heard about in Canada. Firstly, they last for a minimum of three days. Typically the funeral will start on Friday and end on Sunday. There is a whole series of events that transpire between the Friday and the Sunday, which I will attempt to explain.
On the Friday, the body is brought in from the mortuary. In the case of my first Ghanaian funeral, the body had been kept in the mortuary for over a month, I'm told its because of monetary reasons. This day is fairly similar to a wake, where people come and visit the body and the family and to say prayers. This day is often the most dramatic in terms of the emotion displayed. Usually, it is filled with wailing as a means to sympathize with the family. People stand over the body and just wail and sob. Going hand in with the wailing is a lot of drinking. By the afternoon on Friday, some earlier than others will begin to drink...a lot. People will begin mid day and many will continue straight through until Saturday night with little to no sleep.
Saturday was the day the woman was buried in Tiawiah. People continued to drink, though now by this time it became more of a celebration than mourning. After the burial, people who came to attend the funeral from out of town will head to someone's compound for refreshments. It turns out that my compound was one such place. My (normally) fairly quiet compound save for the children, goats and chickens was filled to the brim with intoxicated people dressed in their finest clothes. Funeral attire is pretty specific. One is to wear only red and black, and it is very formal. Some of the outfits/ensembles that passed by were stunning. Shortly after the refreshments begins the dancing! This is also done as a bit of a fundraiser. People donate money to the family and then can dedicate a song for someone. Naturally, I was the recipient of one such dedication, which meant I had to join the dancing :)
The dancing/partying goes on well into the night leading into the final day. The Final da is the day where people will attend Church and finish with another round of donations to the family followed by the kind of dance I've only ever experienced at weddings mixed with a night a club. The music continued to play well into the night.
That essentially is the schedule for the funeral that happened in my village. It is generally accepted schedule with some modifications here and there.
The other interesting thing surrounding this funeral is the circumstance for the woman's death. Yes. I am aware that I will now sound like the nosey neighbour and to an extent that's what I've become, but I can't help it that the family came and gathered for refreshments in my compound. I can't help that one of my sisters, who is my age and works in another town happened to come home that weekend and fill me in on the gossip while everyone was hanging aournd the compound...!
The story is that this woman had a fight with another woman who was having an affair with he husband. After the encounter, the 'concubine' as my sister called her, went to the River God and placed a curse on this woman.
The doctors did an autopsy on the woman and found nothing to be wrong so everyone assumes that it is as a result of the River God's curse.
What makes it better (or worse?) is that the husband, before his second wife was even buried went back to his first wife, and the concubine has just been left knowing that she killed someone. People are pretty convinced that there were some lesser Gods/deities at work.
I found this to be especially interesting because religiton permeates every aspect of culture here in Ghana, yet most people are of the Christian faith, with many Muslims, as well. When I asked my host sister if she believed this was the case with this woman, she, who is a good believing and practising Christian exclaimed "what else could it be?!"
That is one of the more interesting cultural dichotomies one encounters in Ghana.
I attended my second funeral on over my last weekend in the village. This time we only went for one day to sympathize with my host mother's good friend. In this case, it was a funeral for two people; a father and his daughter. Needless to say there were a lot of people there. When we arrived, we walked up to a canopied tent, monitored by security guards. AT first, we weren't going to be let in, then the security guard saw me and let us in. At the time, I assumed we were going to greet the family. Upon entry to the tent, the smell of moth balls as well as the sound of wailing hit me in the face. I had entered the tent where the two bodies had been kept. I think it goes without saying that I felt a little awkward, but we thankfully didn't spend that much time there.
As different as funerals are, there are some aspects which should perhaps make their way West.
The outpouring of emotion and the acceptance and even encouragement of those who are grieving, as sometimes we can be too stoic. Secondly, the moments of true celebrations of the person's life. IN addition to the the dancing/drinking, the family made t-shirts for people to wear with the woman's photo, date of birth and an inspirational saying on the back followed by "rest in peace". I'm not sure how I feel about the t-shirts yet, but there's something intriguing about the n'est-ce pa?
Finally, who doesn't love a dance party?
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