A Journey Of Grief

Hello Dear Family and Friends,

How are you all doing? I would love to tell you that things are all ok, but that isn't the case this week. I have previously shared with you that there are a lot of needless deaths here in Namibia. There are so many that I could tell you about, but I want to tell you about our latest loss. Though they it saddens me, it also touches me deeply, as it is a testimony of the unconditional love of a father. Since I haven't really written about any of the funerals I have been to, and by telling you the following, I hope to give you a further glimpse into the culture around me. I am drawing on my past experiences to fill in the details of the future events. I wish I could say that each one is different, but so far they have all basically been the same.

A large majority of the people who suffer from HIV/AIDS don't seek treatment because of the stigma, and even their families frequently encourage them to not seek treatment, lest anyone should find out. It is especially true of people who are public figures, like officials, nurses or pastors. With this kind of stigma and lack of treatment, you can imagine that getting a diagnosis of HIV/AIDS seems to truly be a death sentence here in Namibia.

However, there are some amazing people and like Pastor Domingo and his family. Pastor Domingo is my pastor at the EBC church in Ndama (in-dah-mah) and he is originally from Angola. The church doesn't bring in enough monies monthly to even pay the water bill, much less support their pastor, so he and his youngest son, Timo (tee-moe), along with some others from Angola, run a wood shop where they make amazing hand made furniture. One of his older sons, Phillipus (who is about my age), suffered from AIDS. Though he was on treatment, he had been constantly sick in the last few months. Unlike most men, Pastor Domingo chose to stand by his son and not just encourage him to seek treatment but to actively assist him in doing so. From helping him get to the hospital for his many visits to the HIV/AIDS clinic to staying at the hospital to sleep on the floor overnight when Phillipus was admitted, Pastor Domingo was always there.

Last month Phillipus was diagnosed with a type of cancer that comes frequently with end stage AIDS. Pastor Domingo was the one that took the 8 1/2 hour bus ride with Phillipus to go to the hospital in Windhoek to be evaluated for treatment and went back again weeks later when they were approved to start his treatment. However, at the hospital in Windhoek on Monday, Phillupus lost the battle and passed away. The loss of his young life is tragic and heartbreaking.

For the last two days the family has been sitting outside his empty hut crying and wailing at any and all hours of the day. By the time most of us have reached kindergarten, we have been taught that throwing fits and wailing aren't acceptable behavior. Here however, crying, wailing and even sometimes throwing fits at the loss of a loved one is how grief is shown. Some people here even believe that if you don't show enough grief that the deceased will return from the dead and kill you. This outward show of grief will continue, with a new outcry of wailing and tears as each family member or friend arrives from the bush. Unfortunately this wailing is something that I am too familiar with. It is a noise that I have come to dread while I am at work. It is a sound that emanates from deep within and immediately touches every part of you.

Early this morning Pastor arrived on a hospital transport with Phillipus' body and it was placed in the mortuary. Though the body had yet arrived, yesterday Timo was at the grave yard digging the grave for his brother. Unlike in other regions, burial plots here are free , one only has to supply the labor to dig through the sand, rocks and the root systems of the brush. I have heard it said that it is better to bury someone as close to a tree as possible so that other's won't try to bury close to your site, but that means having to chop through more roots. (At the last funeral that I went to, they couldn't lower the casket because the roots hadn't been cut back enough. so they had to pull the casket back out, men had to jump down into the grave and hack away at some of the roots and try again. Thankfully it fit the second time.)

On Friday, family, friends and the church choir will arrive early in the morning at the hospital mortuary, bringing with them the casket and burial clothes. Emilie, Philipus' mother, and other women in the family will take the body into a side room off the mortuary, remove the plastic covering that he was placed in after he passed away, and wash his body. Though the body will have been kept in the mortuary for several days, they don't embalm here so there will be a slight smell. After washing the body they will place the burial clothes on him, which are usually all white, and place him in the casket. They typically place a white blanket over the top of the body up to the shoulders, giving it the appearance of someone who is asleep being tucked in. After they place the lid on the casket it will be carried outside to someone's truck, which will serve as the hearse. Though the women are silent during this process, the choir, which is standing outside the mortuary, will have been singing the whole time. The choir will also sing the whole way to the church, most of them packed into standing room only in the back of another truck traveling behind the casket.

The casket will then be taken to the church, where there will be a memorial service. Again there will me much crying and wailing. There will be an overnight vigil held at the church, and early the next morning the funeral service will begin. After the service is held at the church, there will be a long procession to the graveyard. At this point it is often late morning or even well into the afternoon! Along the way to the grave site, there will again be mournful singing by the choir.

At the graveside there will be more singing, reading from the Bible, prayers and a renewed bout of crying and wailing. Finally, several men will jump down into the grave to lower the casket by hand. Once it is lowered, all of the men present will take turns with the shovel to fill in the grave. This is the part that brings me to tears. It is amazing to see the make family and friends offering this last showing of their love. After this, there are often more songs and more prayers offered, but at this point it is uneasily silent. Then, there is a final prayer, and people just walk away. The procession then goes back to the families house and are fed. A whole cow is often butchered, if it can be afforded, to serve the guests. If not a whole cow, then a couple of goats are on the days menu. After eating people sit around and talk. I think that part is the same anywhere in the world.

Death is never an easy thing to deal with, and grieving effects everyone different. It is strange to see how differently it is dealt with here. Please be in prayer for Pastor Domingo, Emilie, Timo and the rest of the family in this time of grief.

grace and peace to each of you,
kapande

Kimmie Tibbetts
Serving the people of Namibia at the Rundu State Hospital
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