A Sad Day

Last Monday morning we woke up to the news that there had been a death in the community. We were first told it was the wife of one of the members of the church choir and then later in the day it emerged that she was also a nurse at the hospital. She was 37 years old and although she had previously been unwell she had recovered and was back at work. She worked a normal shift on Sunday and then died suddenly during the night. No one I spoke to seemed to know the exact cause of death.

At 2.00 p.m. on Monday afternoon people gathered in the church for a memorial service before the body was taken to her home village for burial. Many people, young and old, came for the service. Inevitably it started late and there was a time of hymn singing and prayers before the family arrived. I recognised the husband from the previous day’s church service as he walked in with his three small children the oldest of whom is probably about 10 years old. The coffin (which had been made that morning) was then carried into the church and placed on a table at the front and covered in a white cloth.

There were more hymns and prayers, a bible reading and a short-sermon before people were invited to file past the coffin to pay their respects. The women had all come with a ‘kanga’ (a typical East-African piece of material) draped around their shoulders, which I figured was a sign of respect and mourning, as they do not normally dress like that. Some were overcome with grief and used the kanga to cover their heads as they cried and wailed.

As the coffin was carried out of the church one of the ladies began singing a mournful song, which the other ladies echoed. They continued singing as everyone filed out of the church and stood quietly and respectfully outside as the coffin was lifted into one vehicle with the close family and the mourners who were going for the burial got into a second vehicle. As we stood there a light rain started to fall, which somehow seemed appropriate given the mood of the community. Once the vehicles had driven away the singing came to an end and people drifted away to go about their ‘normal’ daily tasks. 

I have blogged before about the fragility of life in Africa and this was another stark reminder of how death is such a part of life on this continent and of how one family’s life can be changed forever in a moment.