A Funeral

The town of the funeral

It was about nine o’clock on Friday.  We got a phone call that a friend, a brother from Volcano Island, had died.  He was actually from Clove Island and his body was being flown over that morning for burial.  The man that died was young—probably in his 40’s.  We didn’t know him well, but he had been a friend of many in our group.  It would be good to show our respects.  The town where he was to be buried was far, but I don’t work on Fridays—it’s our day off, so I was available to go.  Within an hour of getting the news I was on my way to the funeral.

It’s not easy finding buses to far off villages.  It took me over half an hour to flag one down.  Then it was an hour and a half bus ride squished in an over packed bus bumping and swerving over roads in terrible need of repair.  One man claimed that the ride would only take 20 minutes if the road was fixed.  I’m inclined to believe him. 

When I arrived in the town I called a friend.  He is from that same town and could guide me to the right place. But he was not going to the funeral, so he dropped me at the door and I was invited in.  They immediately ushered me into the room with the deceased.  He was laid out on a bed and covered from head to toe by a green prayer cloth ornately decorated in gold with verses in Arabic and holy sites.  The outline of the body was only partly visible.  I would never see his face.  That is not the custom.  While I was there others came and a prayer was offered.  I stood in the back and offered my own prayers.  Then I left and took a seat on the porch and watched others repeat the same ritual.   I had arrived at about 11:30.  Since it was Friday, most people went to pray, and the funeral would be held following the mid-day prayer.  So I sat.  I waited for someone to address me, but whether because I was unknown to them, or because it was a funeral, we simply sat in silence.  The women, who don’t usually go to the prayers, were in a room nearby singing.  They sang song after song.  This is how they mourned him.

Returning from prayers, the porch became crowded and then they said their prayers for the dead man.  It began with recitation, spoken very quickly and in Arabic.  This went on for quite a while.  Many mumbled along.  Others took pride in knowing it well and spoke out loudly.  Still others looked quiet and bored.  I sat silently.  This was followed by chanting the phrase “there is no god but God.”  Over and over again at an accelerating rate.  A few more prayers were said and then they readied the body to go to the cemetery.

Our family on an earlier visit to the funeral town

The body was placed in a temporary coffin, and draped with another ornate prayer cloth.  It was then carried to the gravesite.  Everyone followed along.  Men took turns holding the coffin on their shoulder.  A constant rotation kept anyone from carrying the coffin for long.  Others, like myself, simply walked behind the coffin with the crowd of men.  We walked through the town until we arrived at the grave site.  Some went into the cemetery but most waited respectfully outside.  This was also a chance to socialise a bit.  Until this moment I hadn’t seen anyone I knew.  Now a few men from the capital and one of my students from the town were there.  We exchanged some greetings.  One of the men, a neighbour of mine, agreed to give me a ride home with him and his friends. 

My neighbour asked how I came to be here.  I told him I knew that known A_____.  “Who??” he asked.  “The man who died,” I explained.  My neighbor didn’t know him.  He was just a friend of the family.  “I knew him.”  I said.  “He was friends with many people in our group.  He fixed my refrigerator once.”  I also prayed with him on a few occasions, I thought.  “Yes, I’m told he was a very good technician.” My neighbor said.

After the body had been buried and final speeches and prayers given, we left.
The car ride home was long.  The driver wanting to protect his car took each bump at an agonisingly slow pace.  I asked my neighbour a question that had been nagging me.  How did he die?  “His wife ran off with the kids.  They left him.  He was so sad that he stopped eating and drinking.  He got sick and then he just died.  A heart attack or something.”  I hadn’t seen this man in a long time, probably years.  This news was sad to hear, but I wondered if my neighbor’s story was even true.  I may never know.

PRAYERS ANSWERED
Our sick teammate seems to be recovering well—although there are still a few tummy issues.  Pray for full recovery soon.  The boils on the children seem to be going away.  Pray for no more recurrences and that it would be completely gone.  We are thankful for our team and the good discussions and good unity we’ve had lately.  It feels like all of us are growing together.  Pray that it could continue.

PRAYERS REQUESTED
Pray for light shining in dark places.  Pray for the darkness to flee.  Pray for chains to be broken and those in prison to be freed.  Pray for life to spring forth out of death.  Pray for hope.  A team is coming out to pray with us soon.  Pray for all their preparations. You can be praying with us from home too. Would you like to join in the prayer fun? We’ll send you a prayer guide.  Email us.