Why Don’t All Cultures Have Condolence Visits For Bereaved Families?
Warning: Silent zone ahead!
When another person’s corpse is carried along the road, it looks like a bundle of firewood to bystanders. Igbo proverb.
Condolence visits are a thing in West Africa. If someone dies, neighbours, friends, relatives, colleagues, and even enemies, pay their respects to the bereaved family. It is our way of saying —
We are carrying this corpse with you. You are not alone.
I remember the first time I went on a condolence visit. I was a teenager and my mother took me. Our family friend’s son had slept and never woke up.
We arrived, and the mother of the late man was seated in her sitting room surrounded by a few people. The woman’s eyes were staring blankly at the floor.
To my surprise, my mother went straight to a chair and sat down — rude. I sat beside her. I didn’t know one just walked into someone else’s house without so much as a “hello” before taking a seat.
Maybe there was a reason for my mother’s need to sit first.
I waited.
And waited — for my mother to say something to the woman. I waited for her to maybe pass her an envelope with cash as a contribution to the funeral. My mother did none of that. We just sat.
Quietly, I looked around me and everyone in the sitting room seemed lost in their world. A random shuffle of feet here, a quiet sniffle there, a sigh at an end, a shake of the head, and still — no words.
One of the people we met in the room, stood up and walked out saying nothing to anyone. Strange.
We must have stayed close to an hour. It seemed like an eternity. I had never known my people to be at a loss for words.
Then my mother stood up. I followed suit as she walked over to the bereaved woman, stooped beside her, held her hand, and whispered — sorry.
The woman nodded. My mother stood and we walked out.
Behind us was a shattered family while outside, the world was in its element — people were chattering, and the birds were tweeting.
“Why was everyone silent?” I asked my mother.
“That woman lost her child last night,” My mother reminded me, “What do you want to tell her?”
Through the years, my mind has returned to that visit with my mother. I was a teenager then and the strange quietness of it has stayed with me. I am older now and rather than a strange quietness, it feels sublime to me.
I think I finally get it —
Grief can isolate you but when people gather around you, you’re reminded in your tragic hours that, you are not alone… you are not carrying your corpse alone.
We would all prefer what was lost to this reminder but, in your loss, you are afforded this simple comfort.
Thank you for reading. Are condolence visits a thing in your culture? How do you pay respects to the family of the bereaved?
