When you work or live in Africa you must be flexible at all
times. Early Monday morning we got a call that plans had changed. There would not be an all night vigil (thankfully!) and the funeral would be at 5 PM. Jabulani and I were asked to meet the family members at the mortuary at 3 PM. to pick up Gcinile’s
body and coffin. When we arrived it was explained that she was not ready yet. Not ready? She has been dead for 4 days? The father explained that the $100 paid for the coffin did not include cleaning the body, and he was sure that Sarah would
want to see Gcinile’s face before burial (quite common). The problem was that they were asking for an additional $20 to wash the body, and he simply didn’t have the money after buying food for the extended family for 4 days, hiring grave diggers and paying for the coffin. I asked what the $100 had included and they explained that it was simply moving the body from the hospital to the morgue, then the coffin itself. I asked if she had been embalmed?
No, she had been in the fridge since Thursday, they explained.
Living in our society where $20 is really not a lot of money to most people I couldn’t reconcile the pain and shame on the face of a father that could not have his 5 year old daughter’s dead body washed for burial because he didn’t have $20. I opened my wallet, paid the fee and we handed over a little dress for them to put on her when the body was clean. They said they would be back in 15 minutes with the girl.
Much later we were called in to the mortuary room to collect the coffin. We walked in and they removed the lid to the tiny casket so that we could identify her body. The face of a sleeping angel appeared in front of us. So tiny, so innocent, so peaceful. It was her. We were sure.
None of the Maskuku children have birth certificates so it took some negotiating for us to convince the “authorities” that a child who technically did not exist, had died. In the eyes of the state, Gcinile had never been alive, therefore could not die (yep, serious). She is not even on their statistics list. But today, she was noted in the history books of Swaziland and her existence was recorded, even if just in death.
We wheeled her out to our truck and loaded the coffin in the back where her dad and two Aunties road along on the 90 minute journey to the homestead and graveyard.
It has been a long time since I slept, so I will do so now and write more tomorrow before I fly back home to see my family. Suffice it to say that today was a day of deep sadness, great joy and peace that passed all understanding. Amen.