EXPENSIVE NIGERIAN BURIALS
I feel sorry for myself today because people are going to criticize me intensely because of this video. But do I really care? My mother tried to take care of me when I was young, and my wife tried to take care of me when we got married.
I want to discuss the issue of expensive burials in Nigeria, in particular. I can’t speak for other African countries, but this is what’s happening in Nigeria. When someone dies, people will set up a WhatsApp group to start collecting money for the burial. They end up contributing millions. I don’t blame them entirely. When someone dies, the relatives will often ask for the papers of the house that the deceased and their spouse worked hard to build. I’ve seen instances where they sell these properties and use the money for lavish burials, emptying their accounts and sending the widow away.
There was one case where people contributed money for a big burial, and within less than a month, one of the deceased’s children was sending messages asking for 2,000 naira. After all the money that was collected, they couldn’t keep any aside for contingency, scholarships, or helping the family. They squandered everything.
A few days ago, while peeling cassava, we talked about burials. I mentioned a man who had dug a well for me at the permanent site of Petra Institute at EO. The house had no windows or curtains. When this man passed away, I saw canopies set up for the burial and counted them. They were drinking Four Cousins, a drink produced in South Africa. Poor Nigerians were drinking Four Cousins at the funeral of a man who had left nothing and was living in an uncompleted building of a relative. When I made this statement, I didn’t realize his son was among those peeling cassava. They had a grand burial for him, even though he had lived in poverty and with an undiagnosed disease.
Another troubling trend is that when people’s parents die, they will send messages asking for money to bury them. If you don’t contribute, they will send you a message implying that you should still pay, as if you were responsible for the death.
I was discussing this with a friend, a former governor of one of the states, who was listing all the ceremonies he had to attend across the Southwest. I asked him how people fund these events. The amount spent on frivolous, extravagant ceremonies is shocking. What bothers me even more is that the rice they cook is imported, the Maggi cubes are produced by foreigners, the drinks are imported, the clothes they wear are imported, and the soap and detergent are imported.
What angers me further is that people like me, who live outside our communities, will return to bury ourselves with grand ceremonies. We never contributed to building a block of classrooms or influencing infrastructure development in our communities. When our parents were alive, none of us visited them, but when they die, all the grandchildren and great-grandchildren bring their friends to eat and drink.
During the 2022 flood disaster, I raised money through social media and radio, bought food items and clothes, and took them to a nearby community twice. None of their children in the diaspora contributed anything. But once the flood receded, I saw numerous cars going to the burials. It makes me wonder about the mindset of Africans. This rainy season, you can’t even drive to that community, yet there are prominent people from that area who could influence the government to build the road. I wanted to influence the government, but my connection died before I could act.
It was also surprising that all the pastors who were putting up banners and promising blessings didn’t come to distribute aid during the flood. Yet, as soon as the flood receded, they started putting up banners again, celebrating their perceived success.
We are an unserious people. People quote scriptures saying that if a man dies and does not receive a befitting burial, it is better that he had been aborted. However, a befitting burial should match one’s financial status and contributions to society. You should only do what is appropriate for you, and not go into debt for a grand display.
I run schools and have just finished burying my parents. I cannot afford to pay for school fees and other expenses right now. If people have the money, let them spend it, but don’t burden others. I’ve told my children and shared on social media: don’t do any lavish ceremony for me. Just wrap me in cloth and bury me simply. In the midst of poverty and difficulties, use any available funds to provide scholarships for children in my community or support those in need.
God bless you. I remain Dr. Charles Apoki
