Death is not a big deal. Perhaps it is to the grieving one/s left behind, but not to the deceased. “They are at a better place” is a cliché statement but it’s true. They have gone back to where they are fundamentally themselves, unbound by the limitedness of human nature. They are at a place where they can see what we cannot see, where they know what we do not know. They have gone back to a magnificent dimension where they feel no hate, no judgment, no guilt, and they look upon us with unconditional love. They carry no grudges. Any resentment they bore in their heart was immediately erased the moment they passed away because they went to a place where animosity cannot exist. Even if you killed them, they don’t hate you and they will not haunt you in your sleep. It is your mind, your own conscience, that haunts you.

When you think of them as the person you knew when they were alive, you would both be right and wrong. Right because you indeed knew them like that, and wrong because they aren’t that person anymore. They aren’t even a person. The person you fondly remember was just a garment, a costume for their character on stage, a mask for their part in the masquerade which they took off as soon as their role in it was over. That person is no longer the child you knew, or the granny that took care of you, or the friend you loved. They are no longer the criminal that was shot, or the terrorist that killed hundreds, or the good for nothing addict who died from a drug overdose. Now they are simply a being far more superior, unattached to the illusory identities they took up on stage. Now they are without face or form, and they transcend the echoes of time and space unrestricted by the physical boundaries of flesh – you wouldn’t know where they begin and where they end. Now they are just an ageless being that existed before the beginning of time and will continue existing after all has ended. They move like the strongest winds yet you’ll barely feel them. They shine like the brightest suns yet you’ll hardly see them. Here, they cannot be defined. They cannot be compressed. They are nothing, and they are everything.

Death is not a big deal. It may be devastating for the ones left behind but it isn’t for the one who’s gone. They are not dead, they have just gone back to their original self. They haven’t stopped existing. They are still here but not as a human being with human attributes. They can hear you when you think of them and they respond subtly in interesting, mysterious ways – symbols, songs, dreams, numbers, ideas, patterns, ‘coincidences’, other people. If you were truly connected with them, they become a potent energy at your disposal, an angel you know personally whom you can turn to when you have questions and get answers from a higher perspective. When crestfallen because they’re not there with you, you can mention them silently and feelingly inside your heart as if they are in there and ask them to give you comfort. They will, and they’ll make you feel like they never really left

It is that time. For us, struggling citizens, that time of the month has come.
That time when you dissect the empty toothpaste tube to access the traces of toothpaste therein. And you swipe your toothbrush just once, no more than a centimeter. Anyone in the house who swipes their toothbrush twice, as if they have more than 32 teeth, is punished severely. And if they swipe twice and use more than a centimeter at the same time, they get excommunicated from the home.

A time when, after pressing the lotion bottle, instead of lotion, you get air, and a pitiful pffff sound. So you do a few push ups, as a warm up exercise in preparation for slapping that lotion bottle against your hand, mightily, so that, at least, an iota of lotion can shoot out from that small hole. Then after two days, you cut up the bottle and dip your finger in either of the two halves, to see if you can get a tittle of lotion.

The time that taking a shower is a water-only affair, because the bathing soap has completed its life span and now looks like a SIM card. If your empty lotion bottle completely refuses to co-operate, well, you'll walk around with your skin as dry as your financial situation. Here, a statement like 'just a small skin issue', spiced up with a lie like 'my dermatologist advised...', can come in handy when someone points out the horrid scales on your skin.

Tissue is running out, so you ask everyone to try, as much as possible, to wipe once, but with precision and skill, to avoid 'wastage', and should they need more tissue, they had better use water. You also forbid anyone from having diarrhoea. At least until the salary checks in.

A time when the shoe polish has said its goodbyes, and now work shoes, or whatever other shoes that require shoe polish, are just wiped using water and a cloth, and they will still look like they have dust.

And beverages are taken without sugar, and as you sip your sugarless tea, you keep saying, "Sugar is not even good for your health anyway."

The battle is tough. But what ever happens, January will end.

When you want to (discreetly) borrow things on credit at the shop, that is when customers fill the shop. That is when the entire district decides to buy things from that shop. And not just the entire district, but all the people in the district who know you. When the shopkeeper is finally alone and you are about to expose your pitiful financial state and other secrets, 27 customers suddenly enter the shop. You tell the shopkeeper that you'll be back. You lie that you want to rush somewhere first. You meet 13 more customers on your way out. You go back home and sit for 10 minutes then go back to the shop. You enter the shop at the same time with your next door neighbour. Since you don't want them to hear you borrowing kerosene and bread, you pretend that you're a kind person and let them get served first. As you wait for the shopkeeper to finish serving them, 64 customers stream in. Because you know about 50 of them, you greet them heartily as you cleverly weave your way out of the shop to 'answer a phone call'. You go back to your house and ask God some pretty tough questions. After 20 minutes, you go back to the shop, hopeful that you'll find the shopkeeper alone. But when you get there the shop is already closed.

Challenges are many

Origin of Lunsi(Drummers/Gong-Gong beaters in Dagbong)

Lunsi were also descendants from the royal home. Their roots thus can be traced to the era of Naa Nyagsi. When Naa Nyagsi was reigning as king of dagbong,one of his wife Napaɣa Fanliriba died living behind two orphans namely; Ӡima and Bizinŋ. These orphans were refused foods any time it was ready and that subjected them to malnourishment. Ӡima and Bizinŋ devised out a strategy by securing for themselves an empty bowl which they usually used to drum as a means of pleasing their brothers and sisters(who were quite fortunate having their mothers alive and kicking) to be able to get them some morsels for their tummy. This development continued till a particular day when Naa Nyagsi witnessed this as he was seated at his resting palace hall(Zɔnŋ Tuuni). Naa Nyagsi called for Ӡima & Bizinŋ and informed them to always make themselves available with their "Drumming bowl" any time Naa Nyagsi food was served. Ӡima and Bizinŋ heeded and begun regaining their feat to the surprise of many elders of Yendi who inquired from Naa Nyagsi,and they were told how the orphans were now metaphorically breastfeeding from Naa Nyagsi, their father and king of Dagbong.

When Naa Nyagsi embarked on his conquest to expand the territories and boundaries of Dagbong by toppling fetish priests otherwise known as "owners of the Land". (Tindan-nima) and replacing them with some of his princes,brothers,warriors etc.... Naa Nyagsi and his forces got to Diare where a certain group of people came out of a cave around that realm with snail shells in their hands. They definitely striked the snail shells against each other to make certain pleasant sounds and they coupled that with eulogizing the ascendants of Naa Nyagsi just so for Naa Nyagsi to grant them some mercy by not annihilating and wiping out their clan. The group was believed to have been led by one Lunŋ Tisuu. Naa Nyagsi haboured some mixed feelings at this juncture because on one hand,he had expected them to run for their lives but they didn't and on the other hand,they pleased him to the marrow with their snail shells and appellations. Naa Nyagsi asked why they never runned for their lives and they declared,"we've long heard the name of the son of Shitobu & his exploits cum bravery and we wanted to see for our own eyes who that was in order for us to plead for his mercy,have some historical accounts to narrate to posterity and save ourselves from his attacks". Naa Nyagsi granted them their wish but likened their art to his orphans display of seeking for food for whenever they had none to depend on.

Naa Nyagsi at this material moment gave Ӡima & Bizinŋ out to these people particularly their leader Lunŋ Tisuu to be taught how they did theirs. Lunŋ Tisuu taught Ӡima & Bizinŋ their art till the death of Ӡima which brought their practice to a halt because Lunŋ Tisuu feared for his life but his eldest son mustered the courage and said,regardless of what happens,Naa Nyagsi must hear the sad news of the demise of Ӡima. They followed it up the next day by going to Naa Nyagsi with their Snail shells. They initially praised Naa Nyagsi before giving a brief notice of Ӡima's death to Naa Nyagsi upon his request of their reason behind praising him with their snail shells. Naa Nyagsi took the news normal and even recounted how powerless he was when the orphans mother died,how much more when one of them(the child) also takes same path. Naa Nyagsi used same meeting to offer some words of prayers to Bizinŋ to be able to master the art very well. As times goes on,they had some reforms to their art by way of moving away from using the snail shells to the use of a cylindrical barrel of which an animal skin was sewed to as a way of beating with rapid succession of strokes to please the king.

Naa Nyagsi conquest continued which took him to Namɔɣu where he toppled the fetish priest (Namɔɣu Tindana) of Namɔɣu who superintended over that village. Bizinŋ was called to duty to replace the Namɔɣu Tindana. When Bizinŋ was called to take the Namɔɣu skins,he arrived and displayed his talent in appellations before his father,Naa Nyagsi the king. Bizinŋ displayed what we call in the local parlance as "Kpilbi". Kpilbi is when the drummer brings to bear the works of pass kings of dagbong after which the drummer talks about the works of commoners and then sum it up with the words of God. The Lunŋsi are very important because I remember during the live stay of the late Nanton Naa Alhassan Charles sulemana,some asked why he opted to continuously stay in Nanton at the expense of his" story building" located on the Tamale Teaching hospital road and he answered"I'm quite comfortable and takes so much delight whenever drummers have to sing praises of me,my ascendants and appellations of the skin". The Lunŋsi are also royals and that is the more reason why the Namo Naa also have his own pavilion erected within the premises of the Gbewaa palace. The Namo Naa pavilion at the Gbewaa palace is erected to the left aspect of the palace main hall. Whenever there is a gathering, the Namo Naa seats to the far left hand side of the king of dagbong at the Gbewaa palace with his subordinate chiefs such as:Sampaha Naa,Taha Naa,zohe Lunŋ Naa etc..

There's something that we call Biԑɣu Naayo in dagbong. It is a form of paying homage to chiefs in dagbong particularly chiefs who are under the jurisdiction of the king of dagbong (Yaa-Naa). It is usually carried out on Mondays and Fridays. The origin of Biԑɣu Naayo can be traced to the famous Sanŋ/Chirizanŋ battle and the battle of Nyingilingi(battle involving Naa Andani Girilonŋ and Kumbugu Naa Abdulai).The lines of Biԑɣu Naayo in the Sanŋ/Chirizanŋ battle went like; "Kundunŋ puɣisiri Gbuɣinli Napɔnŋ kpaa" and was actually drafted by the chief drummer of Zaɣili Dapala Andani Sigli in the person of Wablaa Kundari. The lines in the Biԑɣu Naayo that was drafted during the battle of Nyinglingi is quite different from its original version. The lines in the Biԑɣu Naayo that was drafted during the battle of Nyinglingi goes as follows; "Garinga biԑɣu nԑԑya, Garinga biԑɣu nԑԑya, Garinga biԑɣu nԑԑya".

The Namo Naa( Dakoli papuu baa dali dabuɣi Lana,Binbana Naa,Ashaa dabuɣi Lana,mahamaru dabuɣi Lana
,Kosurim bԑ jia ka konyurim bԑ jia dabuɣi Lana) serves as the Paramount of all the chief drummers in dagbong. Below is a short list of towns with their respective chief drummers:

Namo Naa- Yendi Lunŋ Naa.

Darkuɣaa- Gushegu/Gushԑɣu Lunŋ Naa.

Polo Naa- Savelugu Lunŋ Naa.

Zaɣa- Mion

Laɣim baligu- kariga Lunŋ Naa.

Maachԑndi- Nanton Lunŋ Naa.

Taonbihi-Gukpegu lung Lunŋ.

When it comes to famous drum chanters, the first renowned drum chanter(Baanga/Lunŋa) I recalled was a native of Nanung but his terrible unique voice made him famous. He was also with Naa Abarika Attah and anytime he visited Tamale,Jack N-moro,formerly of npp central organizer house was his lodging place.

History remembers the most renowned & famous drum chanters in dagbong and some of them are listed below. You can as well add in the comment feed famous drum chanters I couldn't mentioned.

Chԑi gbara lunŋ Dogbura

Zilindo lunŋ Naa Alhassani

Dakpԑm lunŋ Naa Alhaji Baba Bla.

Toon bihi wulana. One unprincipled student required to find out the home town of Naa luro's mother and he responded in equal measure by angrily saying Toochima(Techima). And when the student left, he soliloquied that we don't seek for "herbs" for free.

lunŋ Abukari Abede. He is the inventor of the famous; "Achim Dagban bia naa Buru yaanga" and this links president Nana addo to the Abudu royal gate. He is yet again seen in Gushԑɣu Naa Bawa's 1995 enskinment videos.

Nyoligu lunŋ Naa issahaku Moɣalo. Though blind,but he almost ruled dagbong drummers with his narrative dexterities. He proved to all and sundry in dagbong that,disability isn't inability. He died at Zakpalsi when he was invited by the chief of zakpalsi, Zakpalsi Lana Abdulai to be the guest drummer & chanter for his "Samban-Lunŋ" but its beauty was marred when issahaku Moɣalo died suddenly having suffered from a short stomach pains.

Isahaku Namɔɣu.

Current Chanshԑɣu lunŋ Naa. A very young dynamic drummer.

Lunŋ Adam Gbaɣu.

Lunŋ Naa Johira.

Lunŋ Naa Landaru/ Choɣu Lunŋ Naa Imoro who in turn gave birth to Yԑpalsi Lunŋ Naa Alhassan.

Shabo lunŋ Naa Abraman. He is the Royal Highness,Kampakuya Naa Abdulai Yakubu Andani's favourite because his Royal Majesty enjoys listening to Shabo lunŋ Naa Abraman lines of appellations and praises.

WHEN MY GRANDMA DIED.......The Funeral Processes of Muslim Dagombas in Ghana. Pt 2

By Ahmed Abdul-Hanan Deeshini

In many cultures women are generally discouraged from participating in funeral processions. The reason for this I was told is that wailing at funerals is not permitted in Islam. Grief at the death of a beloved person is normal, and weeping for the dead (by males or females) is perfectly acceptable in Islam. Islam does expect expression of one's grief to remain dignified: Islam prohibits the expression of grief by loud wailing, shrieking, beating the chest and cheeks, tearing hair or clothes, breaking objects, scratching faces or speaking phrases that make a Muslim lose faith, although much latitude is granted in practice, as fatigue and emotion can adversely affect ones' behavior, and such behavior is rarely censured.

In Islam, when someone dies, it is allowed for the dead to be mourned for up to three days. But in Dagbon, mourning lasts from three to seven days, depending on the Islamic sect of the deceased. Whiles others perform the final funeral on the third day, other people hold special prayers for the dead on the third, seventh and fortieth days.

Amongst Traditional Dagombas, the funeral is also done on the third and seventh day. However, depending on the stature of the person, another day could be set aside for a bigger funeral. I have not been able to find out so much detail about the funeral processes of the non-Muslim Dagombas, what caught my attention however is, rituals of the third day. Even though Dagombas accept death as a fact of life, yet they must consult a soothsayer to find out the cause of a person’s death. The third day is called “Bogli logbu dali” , which loosely translates dodging the hole/pit/grave. On this day, the traditional Dagombas perform rituals to find out who or what killed the person. This is done by local spiritualists and soothsayers in and around the community and it involves the slaughtering of cocks to appease the gods of the land.

Amongst the different Islamic Sects in Ghana, performing funerals varies. Whiles the Ahmadi Muslim Community ends the funeral with a prayer for the dead right after burial, some sections of the Sunna community organize special prayers on the third day and some on both the third and seventh day. The Tijaniyya community also offers special prayers for the dead on the third, seventh and fortieth days. Most people however hold another prayer on the first anniversary to seek Allah’s mercy on the departed.

I found some scientific connections to the prayers being offered for the dead. On the third day after the burial of any dead body, gasses in the body tissues form large blisters on the skin and the whole body begins to bloat and fluids begin to leak from the mouth, nose, eyes, ears, rectum and the urinary orifices. On the seventh day, the hair and nails loosen, the skin cracks and bursts open and body begins to decompose and from the fortieth day to the end of a year, the body begins to skeletonize or mummify, depending on the environment.  In each of the stages of decomposition, prayers are said for the person.

On the day of the Adua (funeral rite),   a Dalail Khairat or the Holy Quran is recited and maasa (rice/banana cake) is distributed as a form of zakat, whose blessings is meant for the dead. Other people elsewhere add Cola Nuts, bread and dough nuts. On this day the grandchildren receive what is called Yaanli, which is mostly money given by the children of the dead person.  This, even though is a traditional Dagomba practice is being practiced by Muslims in Dagomba land.  The grandchildren of the dead person can seize anything meant for the funeral and demand a ransom. Mostly, what is being hijacked is food or the kugmani (a calabash with the last clothes worn by the dead in it).  If the Kugmani is not released by the grandchildren, the funeral process cannot continue. It is believed that the dead will not be happy if the ransom is not paid and in some cases will even hunt the family until it is paid.

After the prayers have been said, food is distributed and the funeral is over. But amongt some Muslim Dagombas, the Kuli (funeral) is taken by the paternal and maternal family members for another funeral at the respective family homes. This is called Kuli vaabu.

After all this, some key family members, especially the children of the deceased go round and greet key sympathizers during the funeral, especially those who played key roles in the funeral process.

This piece is and its two previous predecessors is dedicated to all departed souls in my family ; Mpaga Azara Gmanpriga, Alhaji Issahaku Saani, Mma Amaama, Mma Nafisatu Sulemana, Hajia Maatanbaba, Hajia Barikisu Mahama and Hajia Azara (Mma Amiliya) and my alive and strong grandfather who has been very instrumental in all my write ups.   

WHEN MY GRANDMA DIED ............ The Funeral Processes of Muslim Dagombas in Ghana Pt. 1

By Ahmed Abdul-Hanan Deeshini

This is the sequel of the post on my 'Lessons from Death and the thought of dying'. This piece will give insight on the traditional burial and funeral processes of the Muslim Dagomba. I will try however to compare it with the processes and practices of the non-Muslim Dagomba, when I can. This is dedicated to my grandmother, Hajia Barikisu Mahama, may her soul rest in peace, whose death has taught me so much. And another special person from whom I have had to learn a lot about death and the pain accompanying it, whether I liked it or not. It is this special person who has inspired me to write this piece. She lost her father, may he find peace in God.

Funerals in Islam (called Janazah in Arabic) follow fairly specific rites, though they are subject to regional interpretation and variation in custom. In all cases, however, sharia (Islamic religious law) calls for burial of the body, preceded by a simple ritual involving bathing and shrouding the body, followed by salat (prayer).

In the early hours of Friday the 17^th of January, we set out to prepare for the burial of my grandmother . In the course of the night, I, together with my uncle drafted a message to announce on radio about the death of our beloved. This has become a norm in modern times to allow families and friends who are far away  to get the news in time for the burial. In the past, messengers were sent around every corner where families and friends lived. Sometimes it took days for all friends and family to be informed about the tragic event. In some places, some of these people are so important that they might have to wait for them to come before the body is buried.

I went round to about four radio stations to pay for the announcements to be aired. While we were going round to break the unpalatable news to family and friends, some women gathered the belongings of the dead to a nearby stream or river to wash. Dagombas believe that if the clothes of the dead are not washed, anyone who wears it will die. This is not an Islamic practice but Muslim Dagombas do it anyway, without any religious backing. This even though is superstitious, I believe our forefathers did not pen down the rule for nothing.  I believe this rule came up because people once commonly died of infectious diseases and so the popular imagination linking dead people’s clothes with death, or contagion, which most likely might be the case. The clothes are washed in the stream or river for the same reason (to avoid contagion).

Then comes the bathing of the dead, which forms the major part of the burial process.  The processes differ among the Muslims and non-Muslims. Among the non-Muslims, when someone dies,  the most elderly of the household are called to come and see the dead body. Here, it is not a practice to announce that someone is dead until all the elders see the body. This is based on the Dagbanli proverb  ‘Nin yini bi nyeri so bugum’  to wit, one eye does not see the sparks of the witch/wizard which can comfortably be related to the ‘seeing is believing’ English proverb.  People go into the room where the body is laid, one at a time to see for themselves and silently go outside and take a sit. Once all the elders of the family and community have seen for themselves and confirmed the death, a town crier is tasked to announce the death, in the case of a chief. However, if it is an ordinary citizen, emissaries are sent far and near to break the news of the death to relations and friends. When they announce the death of a person they say that ‘we have been sent to come and tell you that so-so-and-so is absent.

An Undertaker, known in Dagbanli as “Kasigra”  is invited to bath the dead, but before the kasigri goes into the room where the body is laid, he goes behind the window and shouts, ‘Doo be duu”?,  which is meant to ask the body if it is in the room. Now if the dead person responds, “Doo pal mi”, it means the kasigri can’t bath and perform the burial, but if the dead person is quiet, then it means the kasigri wields more power than the dead. This is done only when the dead person is a chief or a person with magical power.

The kasigri now enters into the room with the hot water and a calabash for fetching the water. This is done with the children or spouse of the dead person. The person is then shrouded in a locally made white cloth and taken away for burial. Before the introduction of weaving, teak leaves were used in burying the dead. It was called kornamgbandi  .

Things were done differently with my grandmother, because we are Muslims. In Islam, burial rituals should normally take place as soon as possible and include:

[1] Bathing the dead body,Except in extraordinary circumstances as in battle of Uhud.

[2]Enshrouding the dead body in a white cotton or linen cloth

[3] Funeral prayer ( Janaza).

[4]Burial of the dead body in a grave.

[5] Positioning the deceased so that the head is faced towards Mecca.

Bathing the Dead Body

The purpose of bathing the body is to physically cleanse the corpse. This is however done in the same way as Ghusl, the ritual bath. Bathing the dead body is an essential ritual of the Sunnah of the Islamic prophet Muhammad, and therefore a part of the Islamic Sharia. This occurs as soon as possible after death, preferably within hours. My grandmother was bathed in accordance with orthodox practice which is to wash the body an odd number of times (at least once) with a cloth hiding parts of the body that should be hidden according to Islamic laws.

Those who bath the dead are commonly adult members of the immediate family and mostly of the same gender as the deceased.

Enshrouding the Deceased

The corpse is typically wrapped in a simple plain cloth, usually white. This is done to respect the dignity and privacy of the deceased. The specifics of this ritual, including the material, style, and color of the cloth, may vary across regions. However, the shroud should be simple and modest. It is for this reason that Muslims have generally preferred to use white cotton cloth to serve as the shroud. Men may use only three pieces of cloth and women five pieces of cloth. Some perfume may be applied to the cloth as well.

Funeral prayer

The funeral prayer, known as Ṣalāt al-Janāzah is  performed in congregation to seek pardon for the deceased and all dead Muslims. The prayer is a collective obligation upon Muslims i.e., if some Muslims take the responsibility of doing it, the obligation is fulfilled, but if no-one fulfils it, then all Muslims will be accountable. In performing the prayer, the congregation is divided into odd rows with one person as an Imam standing alone in front and while facing in the direction of Qiblah. The body is placed in front of the Imam. However, if there is more than one body, then these should be put one in front of the other. The spoken part of the prayer involves quietly reciting Al-Fatiha (the opening verse of the Holy Quran), then praying for God to bestow peace, mercy and blessings upon the Islamic prophet Muhammad, and finally saying two du'as (prayers).

Burial

The exact manner, customs and style of the grave, the burial and so forth I am told varies by regional custom. However, the grave should be aligned perpendicular to the Qibla (i.e. Mecca). The body is placed in the grave without a casket, lying on its right side, and facing the Qibla.

Three fist-sized spheres of hand-packed soil (prepared beforehand by the people who accompanied the dead) are used as props, one under the head, one under the chin and one under the shoulder. The lowering of the body, and positioning of the soil-balls is supposed to be done by the next of kin or the eldest child. In the case of a departed husband, the male brother or brother-in-law usually performs this task. In the case of a departed wife, the husband undertakes this (if physically able). If the husband is elderly, then the eldest male son (or son-in-law) is responsible for lowering, alignment and propping the departed.  However, given the close knitted relationship of Dagombas, after the next of kin, other family members and friends take turns to fill the grave. More prayers are then said, asking for forgiveness of the deceased, and reminding the dead of their profession of faith.

Many times graves may be unmarked, or marked only with a simple wreath. However, it is becoming more common for family members to erect grave monuments, as in the case of my grandmother.

The funeral procession then goes back home and dates are given for the funeral ceremony.

WHEN MY GRANDMA DIED........Lessons from Death and the Thought of Dying

 by Ahmed Abdul-Hanan Deeshini

This is a story about me and my experience with life, and death if I can dare say so. This piece was motivated by the death of my grandmother; Hajia Barikisu Mahama, who died on the 17^th of January,2014(May her gently soul rest in the bosom of Allah). Her death taught me a lot of things that I would otherwise not know. I got to learn a lot about death and the processes involved in performing funerals, as prescribed by Islam and the Dagbon tradition, both of which I belong to. The following therefore represents what I saw and heard, mostly from my grandfather, whom I will call a bank of knowledge of the tradition and religious tenets and practices of the people of Dagbon.

There is no doubt that the only guaranteed event that will definitely face each and every single living being; be they male or female, rich or poor, black or white, sick or healthy, is death. Despite the uneasiness people feel in talking about or even merely thinking about this dark topic, due to its unavoidable and inevitable nature, it only makes sense to prepare for it.

I used to hear people talk about death and how painful it was to loose someone to it. I even severally played the role of a comforter in many occasions to my friends and colleagues. It was extremely very difficult for me to actually perfectly play that role because I had not the required experience to do so. So I was merely showing my own conviction of sympathy even though I wasn't so sure on many occasions if my role was impactful.

This was happening not because I had no sense of pity nor was it because I was faking my feelings. It was just because I had never found myself in that position. A position no one would want to be found in. I had never lost a relative or friend with whom I was very close and so I did not know exactly how to console a bereaved. I would call myself lucky, but alas, this kind of luck has never been everlasting and mine was not an exception.

My luck started fading out on November 16^th 2012, when one of my grandmothers, Nafisatu Sulemana, died. I pray she is in peace, wherever she is.  Her death hit me with a big blow as I saw her just the night before and we talked just for like a minute. Now I was struck by reality in this case. I had never cried that much upon someone’s passing like I did that fateful Thursday evening.

Then in November, 2013, just when the family was preparing to hold a one year remembrance prayer for her, another of my grandmothers, Hajia Azara died on the 4^th of November. I was out of the country then but I felt it from the morning of that day. I remember telling a Kenyan colleague that I feel something has happened to my grandmother. I got the news much later, but her death wasn’t as painful maybe because I was away from home or because she died from a protracted illness. The last time I heard her speak, I had gone with my cousin, Hafiz, to say hello to her. She prayed for us and Hafiz prayed that she lives long but she didn’t seem to like that prayer. She bluntly told us that she has seen all there is in this world and that there is nothing more to experience, besides she is suffering so much from her malady. I remember those words as her last ones to me as an individual. 

Two months later, in January 2014, as if the angel of death had been given special orders to make sure our tears do not dry up. My dad came home on Thursday, the 16^th and called me into the sitting room, he looked very distressed. He told me that his mum’s (my grandma) sickness has gotten out of hand and that he is filled with fear. Because of the polygamous nature of Africans and Muslims, we were blessed with many grandmothers, And I was really close to them as they loved me dearly.

I was dumbfounded as I didn't know exactly what to say. I spent more than half my life as a kid in the same room with her. She was my everything then, she loved her grandchildren dearly and did not want anybody to touch us. She would not even let us do any chores. She virtually worshiped us and here she is, helpless, and there was nothing I could do for her. I felt I had not even done enough to appreciate her love and compassion for me and for virtually bringing me up. As these thoughts were running through my mind, my dad interrupted, I did not hear his initial statements but what I heard him say after, was that, “Not all sick people die”. I took this as a re-assurance and planned with Zara, my ;sister' to go see her in the morning before I go to work.

My sleep was interrupted some minutes past midnight by my father, he told me he received a call to come and see his mother (Which I later learnt means she is dead). I opened the gates for him and he drove out with my mum. I could not sleep, as I kept seeing my grandmother each time I closed my eyes, and so I got up and woke Hafiz, my cousin. We got to my grandfather’s house, where my grandma was. We were told not tell anyone just yet, because it was late and it would not be a good idea to wake people up. And so we had to wait until morning before we broke the news. As we waited, we planned on what to do and how to go about the burial arrangements. This came to be my very first time being actually involved in the planning processes of funerals and what became an eye opener for me on how funerals are performed Muslim Dagombas and its difference with the typical traditional Dagomba funeral, which is un-Islamic.  

And that, is my ‘experience’ with death. I will be writing a sequel on funerals rights as performed by  Muslim Dagombas.