Death & Bereavement in Africa...Pt 1

We were less than 4 weeks into married life…it was a Monday night and we had just come back from my husband’s shop. We were chilling at home, watching TV when my husband received a phone call. His uncle had been very ill over the weekend and was now in hospital. My husband went into a panic over needing someone’s phone number and when he realised he had left his blackberry at the shop he went back out to get it.

Whilst he was gone I sat in my chair, wondering how I would cope with a grieving husband if the worst were to happen. I had hoped the worst wouldn’t happen, but couldn’t help but pray and ask God to prepare me for whatever difficult situation might be on its way. I was in a brand new country, with a brand new marriage – these adaptations were already enough to cope with! I did not know how I would be able to manage a possible bereavement too!

A few hours later, what I feared the most had come upon me – my husband’s uncle (whom he loved so dearly) had passed away. When we received the news my husband cried like a child…All I could do was hold him. I felt bad and was in shock at this seemingly untimely news. I knew I had to be there to support my husband, but the events that followed, I was not prepared for.

The very next morning, another of my husband’s uncles was travelling from Togo to Ghana, where his late uncle had lived with his family. We decided to go with him. After an approximate 3-hour drive we arrived at the house. I couldn’t help but be worried about what would come as I would see all his children and his wife. I knew they would be devastated and there would be nothing anyone could do to comfort them. As I got out of the car I could hear a woman screaming in the house. Her screams were like screams of agony. It was almost unbearable. As I got inside there was sadness everywhere, as was to be expected. The children were crying and others were sitting there silently with sad faces. The screaming was coming from a room in the house and continued for about 10 minutes.

Throughout the day many, many people came to the house to offer their condolences. Some were silently sympathetic, but others screamed and wailed, some even threw themselves on the floor. This heightened emotion was all very new to me and I can only describe it as a culture shock. At one point, the atmosphere became too much for me and I had to leave the house and go for a brief walk. Whilst walking I burst out crying. Not so much because of the death, but because of the intensity of the situation. The atmosphere was so unfamiliar and very overwhelming and at that moment, there was no one there who would have understood exactly where I was coming from. I was the only foreigner. I was the only one who had never experienced such a thing in my life. To everyone else this was normal. It may not have been welcome, but it was normal. I decided to dry my tears and get my act together. This was not about me after all and my main purpose was to be a support to my husband and to the family if at all possible.

The next day, before going back to Togo, we had to go to the mortuary to view the body. I knew this would not be an easy affair, but knowing full well that after death the body becomes only a shell I was not afraid of going to see it. I was mostly worried about how the family members would react seeing their beloved uncle, father, brother lying there, lifeless.

Whilst on the way to the morgue, I did not know exactly what to expect. All I knew was that we were not in Europe, we were in Africa, so the conditions would certainly not be to European standards, but as long as everyone could view the body and leave peacefully that was the main thing. When we got there, we had to wait a while, until we were told that the body was ready. As we entered the room, the first thing that hit me was the smell. It was an indescribable stench. I suddenly could not bear to breathe in. There were flies everywhere and also several dead bodies – and people working on the dead bodies in front of us! I did not expect that...at all. I saw a glimpse of my husband’s uncle, who was laid towards the back of the room. After that I had to make a quick exit.  Had I known that the mortuary setting would be like that, I would never have gone…

Shortly afterwards, we headed back to Togo and the family began to make plans for the funeral, which would happen a month later.

To be continued in my next blog…