Alfred 1962-2007It’s a story you might hear in the United States.
A young talented man gifted by God to play any musical instrument he picked up. He desires to be a music star and travels the country in nightclubs hoping to be discovered. All the attention one might expect comes his way: late nights, travel, drinking, and any woman he might want.
Then one day he is confronted with reality. What is this all for? Who am I pleasing? Is this all there is to life? He receives an answer… “It’s all for my glory. Does your life glorify Me?”
Alfred heeded these words and began to seek the Lord. He learned that it is all for His glory and that his life mattered because of the witness he could share with others who asked the same questions. If you are reading this and feel that your life is out of control and there is no way to salvage it. You are wrong. Just like Alfred, you can accept Jesus Christ, ask for forgiveness and be assured of your salvation and entrance into heaven.
(“…for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God…” Romans 3:23)
Alfred died Thursday, August 2, 2007 from complications associated with AIDS. He leaves behind a wife and children. He worked at the Zimba Mission Hospital in the laundry and was loved by many. He led worship at the Pilgrim Wesleyan Church. He played his guitar during staff devotionals at the hospital and it was evident in his daily walk that he knew Jesus. Alfred will be missed.
It has been suggested that in order to really understand a culture you should attend at least two life events….a wedding and a funeral. I will attend both this weekend.
Alfred’s funeral was the first that I will attend in Zambia. I know there will be others. There are so many who have been affected by this horrible disease. All ages are affected. In a population of more than 11,668,000 nearly 1 million are HIV positive or have AIDS. An estimated 100,000 died of the epidemic in 2004. Over a half-million Zambian children have been orphaned due to AIDS.
In Zambia, mourning is an outward expression of the love you share for the lost one. If you do not mourn loud enough, the community may accuse you of not caring. My house is close to the hospital mortuary and I am one of the first to know of deaths in the community. The sounds of those in mourning are never easy to hear. Some nights I am awakened in the middle of the night by this chilling sound. I immediately begin to pray for the family. It’s a sound you never grow use to.
Since Alfred was on staff at the hospital there was much preparation to be done. It is the responsibility of the employer to provide a casket and food for the “funeral house”. The “funeral house” is the home of the deceased. The house is emptied of all contents (everything) and placed in the yard. The women are in the house mourning and the men remain outside. I don’t understand exactly but this has to do with the spirit of the dead. It is thought that if you don’t remove the contents of the home that the deceased will curse you. A campfire is started outside to keep the men warm and there is a vigil throughout the night.
Burial can happen the next day of maybe a week later. It depends on the location of the relatives and their ability to get there. Zambian families are extended and are very close knit. I have been told that the mother’s brother has more influence in the life of the children than the father. For most, their uncle is their provider and mentor.
Alfred was buried on August 4 the same day my house helper, Idah, was to be married. The wedding was postponed until Monday so that the community could grieve the loss of Alfred.
I had planned to only attend the church service but was fortunate to witness the entire event firsthand. It was one of the first events that actually started on time…..
I arrived at the church at 1330 hours and several others started arriving at the same time. At 1400 hours the vehicle with the casket arrived followed by a lorry (4 ton truck) packed with people of all ages singing hymns and grieving Alfred.
The casket was carried into the church by the hospital support staff dressed in their blue hospital work clothes. These were men who all worked side by side with Alfred and it was obvious he would be missed. As they carried the casket hymns continued to be sung. Most were in Tonga (the local language) but I recognized two of the songs as “Sweet By and By” and “The Old Rugged Cross”. The casket was followed by Alfred’s wife and family. The rest of the funeral possession filed in.
Pastor Alick Chibbula (who is marrying Idah) preached the service and did an excellent job of explaining that our life here on earth is short whether you are 19 or 60. He was able to convey that it’s eternity we should be living for and that our life here determines how we spend eternity. If I were not already a believer in Christ, I would have made the decision to become a believer right then!
Once the service concluded, everyone loaded into whatever vehicles were available. The graveyard was about 2 miles from the church and was not an easy walk. I had planned to return home at this point but one of the local pastors handed me the keys to his vehicle and asked me to load people in his car. God wanted me to be a witness to the entire event.
The procession to the graveyard was slow and reverent. The lorry was packed with mourners who continued to sing praises to God and cry for the loss of their husband, father, son, and friend.
When we arrived at the graveyard, there were four holes prepared; one for Alfred and the others for the three individuals who had passed away since Thursday. As the people arrived they made a circle (probably four to five people deep) around the ground where Alfred would be buried. There was prayer and then the viewing of the body. The casket was opened and the attendees filed by the body singing; women first and then the men followed.
Once the body had been viewed, the cover was replaced and the casket was lowered to the ground. The leader offered anyone who wanted to cast dirt over the casket could do so at that time. A shovel of dirt was passed around the circle. Immediately after, men started grabbing shovels and started the gruesome task of burying the casket. Everyone looked on and continued to sing.
I have never seen such a sight. The men worked so well together. When it was obvious that someone was tired another man took his shovel and continue the work. It was a humbling experience as I looked on to see the respect and love shared for one another as they honored their brother. The undertaker walked around with a long branch poking around the casket to make sure the dirt was packing in. The men who held the shovels when the casket was finally buried tossed the shovels in a pile in a deliberate way to signify it was finished.
The women of the church then gathered around the gravesite and knelt down. Each one began pounding on the dirt as they cried out in song and praise for God. Once they believed the sight to be completely packed, the service continued with the placement of flowers. One arrangement provided by the wife, one provided by the hospital and then single flowers presented by different groups (i.e. hospital management, hospital nurses, hospital support staff, Nakowa PWC acting pastor, all other pastors present, and missionaries – That included me and the other missionaries present. I was the only one who heard the announcement and was praised for my good hearing.)
There was a speech presented by the hospital administrator and then the service concluded. Everyone loaded into the vehicle and either went to the funeral house or returned to their homes. I chose to return home but was told that the ones who went to the funeral house would be required to wash their hands upon arrival to wash away any evil spirits.
One thing I must note is that anything related to spirits of the dead or evil spirits is not based on their Christian beliefs. The Christians in attendance participate but know that it is not necessary. They carry it out as a part of their culture and an act of respect for the departed and his family.
It was a symbolic ceremony and as I looked on I couldn’t help but think of the scripture… “By the sweat of your brow you will eat your food until you return to the ground, since from it you were taken; for dust you are and to dust you will return." Genesis 3:19
