My first Ghanaian funeral

I was literally just talking to another volunteer about how I have a hard time finding things to post about anymore since most of my life here seems normal. I find that to be both great (very adjusted and/or integrated) and scary at the same time. But I also have found that the second you think you know what you are doing here and that you’ve “got it all down,” something pops up that humbles you.

So needless to say, with one term under my belt I was feeling very confident and ready for this upcoming term; you know, I was all like “I got this sh@t!” I’ve got some secondary projects I hope to get started and I’m feeling up to the challenge of showing my kids that math is great!

Then comes the humble-r: one of the students at my school got really sick over the break and passed away. I’m a little fuzzy on the details of his passing due to the language barrier but apparently it all happened pretty fast and there wasn’t any time to get him to the hospital. I was shocked and really taken aback by the news. I hadn’t personally had him as a student, but was his form master. As a form master my job is to oversee the class in general: appoint a prefect or class captain, take attendance, deal with behavior and punishments, etc. Being my first term I had no clue as to what I was doing. I thought I was just to take role (attendance) and that was it. I later found out, about half way through the term that I was supposed to be collecting school fees and punishing the students when they were absent. I mostly got to know the students that didn’t show up to class everyday and that was about it. So my interaction with the boy, Bright Frimpong, was limited to me calling out his name and him responding “present” on a daily basis. Regardless, I was pretty upset by his passing. I mean he was a young boy, 17 years old and about to take his exams to move on to senior high school. A lot of kids don’t make it that far in the first place so he was motivated and had a bright future. It’s always a shame to hear of someone dying before they have fully experienced their life.

With his death comes my first experience with the Ghanaian way of coping with death and funerals. I was really surprised how casual everyone seemed to be about his passing. My counterpart came to visit me a couple days after I returned from Tamale (the capital of the northern region where I went for new years) and didn’t mention it to me at all. I found out from the chief’s right hand man when I was hanging out in town. He didn’t know the name of the student so I had to ask around. Not many people speak English in my town, or they refuse to, so I am all frantic and trying to figure out how to politely ask “Do you know the name of the JHS student that died?” in Twi. I did find out and you better believe I called my counterpart and had some words. He told me that it slipped his mind. I’m used to America, where the student’s name and story would have been all over the news; where the entire school and community would be buzzing and everyone talking about how it’s such a shame. So the whole slipping his mind thing was very different for me. I found that the people I talked to, some of my student’s parents, also seemed cavalier about the student’s death. I think there is just a different way of coping here that I didn’t understand at all; which was made all that more clear to me at the funeral.

I have never attended a Ghanaian funeral, but have walked by plenty. It seems there is one at least once a week and the celebration typically goes on right in the middle of town. I knew the gist of funerals for the most part but experiencing it was totally different. Funerals are more like a big party that lasts sometimes a week and goes on all day. The attire is usually black, or black and white. If you are really grieving and knew the deceased well than you wear red or a darker orange color. Bright’s funeral was in a family compound. All the family sat inside the compound in a kind of 3 sided rectangle. The guests came in to the compound to greet the family; you go around the rectangle and shake everyone’s hand and then the line took you to Bright’s body. His body was displayed in a separate part of the compound. So the line went from greeting to paying respects and then to sitting down and joining the family for the funeral program. The area was small so most people came in and greeted and then left and stood outside. There also was a lot of people standing around in the compound so it was pretty packed. There was a lot of loud music and just general sitting and grieving. Some younger boys from town came and started dancing around in the center but that was about it. We came as a school and actually ran the program for the funeral. My counterpart and the assistant head master are both elders/ministers in their churches so they kind of took over. First, the assistant headmaster gave a small sermon about how short life is. Then my counterpart led in a prayer. Then, I had a part (believe me I was scared shitless and was only told that I was doing this the day before). I guess its a tradition to remove the students name from the role when one passes away. So at the funeral I had to do a sort of reenactment. Here is how it went.

All the students came into the center of the compound and brought me a desk and chair. I took out the role book, where I mark every student's attendance every day, and started going down the list of names. All the children would say present and then finally I got to Bright Frimpong. I said his name once. I had to ask the prefect , Gilbert, to go to the mother and ask of Bright's where abouts. He went to the mom, he didn't actually ask her, he just kind of acted like he was asking her where Bright was. He came back to me and said that Bright was sick and couldn't come to school. I then had to say his name again, Gilbert went to the mother again and then came back. He said that Bright took a turn for the worst and was unable to come to school. I then said his name one more time. This time Gilbert came back to report that Bright was dead. I then had to announce this and cross out his name from the role book using red pen. After that the program was pretty much done. His casket was closed and a couple of the boy students carried it to his grave in the bush. It was this crazy procession with practically the whole town following with/behind the body. It seemed like total mayhem. They buried his body and the rest of the attendees went back to the compound to finish out the funeral. It lasted from about 7 in the morning until 6 at night.

We left after the program and I was spending the rest of the day trying to comprehend all the culture I had just seen. I was incredibly scared to do the whole thing with the role and it was just an odd experience to be apart of. I really appreciate that they let me do it though. I was able to take part in their culture and their way of honoring the dead. I'm assuming the reenactment was the way it would have gone down at school in the past. Now, if someone is absent you don't have anyone go to check on where they are; you just mark that they didn't come to school. I guess back then it was something they did? I'm not too sure, but I've found that reenactments are something that Ghanaians do and enjoy. My host brother did some at the church services when I was in training. It always had some message that it conveyed. It definitely was fun to watch (even though I understood none of it) and it is a different way of getting a message across.

As far as the casual nature and the way people handle the funerals here: I think that life here is such that you can't just sit and mope and be sad. There really is no time for it. There is cooking to do (which usually takes at least half the day), cleaning to do, water to fetch, clothes to hand wash, fufu to pound, children to tend to, etc. I even feel that way. I go to class during the day and teach, on my way home I pick up the things I need for dinner, take a tiny nap or relax for a bit, cook, eat, clean and prepare for the next day. There are times that I want to take a personal day, in bed, because I miss my family & friends, or the whole living in a different culture thing really gets to me but I can't. A machine isn't going to do my laundry, dishes, or cook for me (god bless the microwave and vacuum sealed food, I miss itttt). So life keeps moving and there isn't much time to just be sad. So there is that, and as far as funerals I think people just like them. Its a break from the day to day duties and usually the whole town and all your friends are there. Funerals are more like parties and dancing. They told us during training that we would be shocked by the differences in the way Ghanaians celebrate death, and they were right because it is very very different than the funerals I've been to back in the states.

In general I found this past week to be sad yet intriguing. I got to really be apart of the culture; it is just a shame that it was due to a young boy's death.

R.I.P. Bright Frimpong :(

I miss everyone back home and love you all! I hope this post isn't too much of a downer; next one will be fun:)

Michelle