The Kenya Chronicles

4: Funerals & Traditions

The picture above was taken on my grandma's funeral. Those women are members of a church group called The Mother's Union, and my grandma was a member too. Due to their traditions, they believe that they themselves are supposed to go from where the funeral is, to where the body is, (the house), to carry it back, and no-one was supposed to help.
We, the relatives, were supposed to walk along behind them. The distance was long, they were moving slowly due to the heavy coffin and the sun was scorching hot. My feet were burning and made even worse by the fact that I was wearing heels. I never wear heels, but only wear sneakers and boots, (with no heels).
Unlike American funerals, which only last for a few hours, our funerals last almost the whole day, with singing, dancing and disco funeral -where music plays the whole night, with people dancing, and almost no sleep. The whole place is packed and there's barely any space to sleep. Some people sleep on uncomfortable plastic seats, while others are smart enough to carry tents. I decided to sleep in my mom's car with my dog, (Twinkie, a Maltease Terrier), and kids were crowded around the car, marvelling at the 'Mzungu' (American) dog, since, you know her fur is white and long, and the only dogs they ever see are those regular, no breed stray dogs, so according to them, this was a rare sight to behold, and according to some of the villagers, it was a 'Demon'.
Anyway, after the funeral, in forty days, there is something called a 'Makumbusho', ('Remembrance'- the literal translation), according to us, there is to be no crying and this is supposed to be the final sending off of the soul and is to be done at night. In the funeral, her husband is the only one who can light a bonfire in the compound and one of them is supposed to be lit every day, with no pause.
Ha! Us Africans and our traditions!