Nefs Yimar  

By Ketsela  

Well readers, death has to come when it has to come anyways. Death as we know it is the ultimate end of one's existence. Many times preachers and the elderly equate death with birth and marriage as the third major event in human life. Let me lay down the paradox of these events. Birth and marriage are choices made but death, depending on what school of thought one believes in, is predetermined or a natural occurrence to all living things. Acceptance or fear are not the choices. Many of us are sure it's nothing to do with us until it knocks on our door. Do you know the unspoken statement made by many of us who attend funeral services? "I am glad it was so and so than me".

The strange thing about death is the gnawing distress arising from a sense of feeling our own guilt for the dearly beloved. It is common to hear during eulogies "...he was finally going to visit Ethiopia after 20 years..." or  " ... Had it not been for the untimely death he/she was going to get married in August of this year.." Really!? Are you thinking of the dead person or are you speaking about yourself?

Imagine if I died? No children, no wife! "He was so kind..." Shut up and just celebrate my life!! So what is the big deal? A person was born to die and that is it! These and the many other reasons are echoed in many of the funeral gatherings.

Then during the mourning period, we all pay our respects to the dead and share the sorrow by visiting the family. That is actually the only asset we have as Ethiopians among ourselves. Nothing else. The most therapeutic occasion for death and dying is our united effort to share the sorrow with the family. Here is where many strange things happen. The loud sobbing and crying of the guests, in some cases not for the person whose service we are attending, but of their own relative who died 10 or more years ago, or about their own unsuccessful or miserable life in foreign country.  Then the constant questioning to the deceased family,"... how did it happen?",  "...when did it happen?",  "...did he/she know about the illness?",  "... God gave it God took it away!" Come on, give me a break! Who in his/her right mind would face and/or challenge death without having taken the necessary precautions? I remember, once Woody Allen was asked if he was afraid of death. His response, "I am not afraid of death but I do not want to be there when it comes"

Oh! Then there are these rituals mostly by the Northern Ethiopians; they walk in, bow to the mourners and start with musical tone or what young men and women call "funeral rapping". They continuously and loudly cry for a period of about five minutes or less until they are begged to stop and yet you come to observe not a drop of tear is found on their cheeks. You also find those who are just there, as they have no idea who the deceased is or who the relatives are. I believe this is an appeal or serving notice to others to "Please attend mine too". Many times in these gatherings there is a long silence until someone walks in and does some theatrical gesture like holding the forehead with both hands until attention is directed at them. I loved the latest one that I attended where an older gentleman entered the door and started: 

Apparently the older brother of the deceased died two years ago and the reference is that they are now being united. And of course the famous contribution collectors are always found sitting right by the entrance door. And for some strange reasons it is always the same individuals, and they make sure to seat you right in front of the many guests and bring that book for your contribution.

To this day, I have no idea why people choose to sit on the floor or take the entertainment center and the TV out of the living room. Can someone please help me resolve this tradition? A very common trend I also observed is that men wear overcoats regardless how hot the place is and women wear netella covering their mouth as if many of us men don't know its purpose. Ladies! Please wear your make ups, you look terrible without it.

And in America? Why? The funeral service we knew back home was that the person died, casket was prepared, funeral procession led by the women followed by men, aslekash is hired, a Priest or Imam is called and from the time the pronouncement of death to the 6-feet-under ceremony, it is no more than three hours. Now? Three, four, or five days! This is all in America, particularly in the Orthodox and Pentee (I apologize for being politically incorrect in using this term and if being ‘offensive') churches, the services are really, really long. Sometimes I feel the pastor is punishing every one for coming to church only on Sundays while he or she is bored and idled to death the other six days. I am neither a member of these churches nor enjoy going through all the processes. So then, why should I be sitting for hours and hours only to bid "rest in peace" to a former friend or acquaintance?

Finally, the services here in America. Come on people, don't tell me it is never boring. Of all the common things many of funeral services have is a way of picking the most boring speaker for eulogy. Boooooooooring! I don't know why they start out with "The deceased was born from his/her father Mr. X and his mother Ms. Y". Isn't it biologically obvious for the purpose of re-production to have a Mr. and Ms? And for some strange reason, the common birth date of January 1 has got to be mentioned. But this boring individual goes on to say something about the parents who died 30 years ago! Boooooorring again!! One good thing is that usually the deceased did not have any heroic achievements or otherwise we would be in for a long afternoon in addition to the four hours we were subjected to. The worst type of funeral for me is when the deceased is in the age bracket of 65 to 80. The deceased probably was hiding during the Italian invasion or was titled by the Italians for being a banda but his relatives always claim him a ‘hero' who fought the enemy bravely.

People, change can only come if we start to forego the old feudal culture. I care less about the deceased parents, they either died a long time ago or are living happily back home. We need to start celebrating the life of the deceased, how happy, kind, and friendly the person was. If none of these things exist, then bury the person and let us go and take care of our businesses. When I die, please make sure every one who attends the service sings, dances, and drinks Bud (cold one too). But I hope that won't be anytime soon.