Stop boasting and restore dignity in death
THE stories I hear of overspending at funerals are killing me (excuse the pun).
And while the wealthy, who can afford to be lavish, actually tend to be moderate in their spending, it is those who should be economical, who splurge on funerals.
The extravagance in some cases borders on the obscene.
Blowing money on funerals lends truth to the saying that funerals are for the living, not the dead.
It is my theory that those who choose an elaborate or overdone funeral generally hope to compensate for the lack of attention – material and emotional – given to the deceased while alive.
Like the case of some people, who will stop along Higginson Highway to buy an elaborate floral arrangement to place on dad’s grave at Mobeni Heights cemetery on Father’s Day, yet they would not have bought the old man a nip of cane he so desired when he was alive.
Occasionally, when I visit the Clare Estate Crematorium, I marvel at the showmanship displayed by some funeral homes, who would appear to be only delivering on the directive that the funeral budget be damned.
With alternating “wig-wag” flashing headlights and siren blaring, the hearse enters the driveway.
Then like a spaceship from a Star Wars series, gull wing doors open.
As the hearse draws to a stop, a platform begins rotating, positioning the casket to be removed by pallbearers. All so dramatic. And if that is not impressive enough, in a scene reminiscent of a debs ball at Durban’s ICC, up to four limousines will draw up behind the hearse.
Never mind that they will be empty and were supposed to be carrying close family members of the deceased.
But who cares… that is what was ordered for pomp and pageantry.
There was a time not too long ago when a car within a family unit was more the exception than the rule.
And a bus would be hired to transport mourners to the cemetery or crematorium.
Sadly, our values-driven mourning practices have been jettisoned in favour of a show of possessions.
Traditionally our funerals had a social aspect and that’s part of our culture.
That is why a family will spend upwards of R1 000 to place a funeral notice in the newspaper.
In a minority community, each one matters.
Hence the need to inform as many people as possible about the funeral, which is a public event.
However, I do not recollect our culture being synonymous with waste and money.
Today few trends illustrate the community’s growing culture of consumerism than the rising costs of death.
It is the price of foolish ostentation and a display that is less evident of grief than a vulgar travesty of pomposity.
Enquiries among a few undertakers inform me that a decent and dignified funeral should cost no more than R10 000, including transportation and storage of the body, cost of the grave or cremation, a modest coffin, documentation and hall hire.
However, undertakers said there are growing demands specifically for a hearse with gull wing doors; the most expensive American-style casket, which can cost between R20 000 and R50 000; décor artists and caterers to feed mourners after the funeral.
Some funeral directors said they would go all out to endeavour to meet any request, no matter how outlandish, so a grieving family can give a loved one a lavish send-off.
Singers and musicians also make money from funerals, charging between R2 000 and R5 000, depending on the financial status of the bereaved family.
Whatever happened to all the service groups, who used to render devotional hymns free of charge at funerals and memorial services?
My friend Dhiru Bhikha, who is a long-standing executive member of the Clare Estate Umgeni Hindu Crematorium Society, would do well to keep some devotional Hindi, Tamil, Telugu and Gujarati CDs that can be loaned to bereaved families free of charge to save them from being exploited by unscrupulous singers and musicians.
I am happy to share some of my music collection.
Priests, too, take advantage of the religious sensitivities of bereaved families.
The shopping list for prayer goods is long.
The longer the list, the higher the priest’s fee.
I say cut down a few grams on the prayer items here and there.
God did not invent the metric system.
Often times squandering money on a funeral is blamed on the last wishes of the deceased.
I am not sure there are many people who will seriously demand a lavish funeral.
In his trademark jocular fashion, my late photojournalist friend MS Roy would often say that when he died, his body must be taken by TG Govender & Son Funeral Directors in an air-conditioned Cadillac hearse to his favourite holiday digs, the Wild Coast Sun, while bhajans by Pithukuli Murugadas would be playing.
Only thereafter must he be cremated.
He also promised to leave money for his wife Aumsie to treat his friends to Chivas Regal whisky at the funeral wake.
Of course none of this happened.
Some blame for funerals becoming profligate, over-thetop affairs must lie in the fact that the living are not comfortable discussing any end-of-life issues.
Thus at the time of the funeral, relatives and friends often make decisions based more on what the living feel comfortable with than what the deceased may have wished for.
This causes some families to begin thinking outside the box. Literally.
Dodgy undertakers also exploit the fragile emotions of those charged with arranging a funeral.
With a friendly pat on the back, they will state: “Don’t worry… leave everything to us. We will make sure mom (or dad) gets the best.”
It is not qualified that “best” also means “most expensive”.
When social grantees must make do on R1 600 a month and with the rising cost of living, it makes no sense to be wasteful in the name of the deceased.
I believe that the true way to mourn the dead is to take care of the living who belong to them.
What purpose does it serve to pour a bottle of premium whisky costing a good few thousands of rand on a friend or relative’s body moments before it is consigned to the fire? I know this happens often enough.
It is time some lessons are learnt from Muslims who have not lost all sense of proportion when it comes to funerals. They keep it short and simple.