Before I begin this post, I will admit that I am not a gifted writer and these are just my thoughts about what I experienced yesterday at my first funeral in Mozambique.
Our guard Titos who has been sick for a couple months passed away on Thursday. He had TB as well as HIV and his body just couldn’t fight back even though he was receiving treatment. His death was a hard blow to our family as we prayed earnestly for his recovery. He had become a good friend and hard worker. Titos had started working for us in 2006 and we had seen him through several stuggles and blessings in his life.
His funeral was yesterday and it was the first one I have attended here in Moz. Young kids are not allowed at funerals so we had someone watch our youngest while our other two were in school. Since we had offered to provide transportation, the family wanted us at the hospital morgue in the morning. After waiting around awhile for the proper documentation to get the body, we were told that we needed to pick up the pastor and some other brothers to come wash the body. So off went Pete and I to pick up the pastor about 15 minutes away. Once we arrived, there a several more minutes of waiting until they decided who was coming. In some of the brothers and pastor piled and off we went back to the hospital. We met his mother-in-law who handed the brothers a bundle of clothes for Titos to wear for his funeral and we were off again. Once we arrived at the morgue again, there was discussion which other 3 men would accompany the body to wash it, dress it, pray over it and place it in the casket. Once they decided, the went in the morgue and started the process. Some time during our waiting, Pete saw a copy of the death certificate. It said cause of death “Cerebral Malaria”. We know for sure that he was not sick with malaria, let alone cerebral malaria. All his documentation in the hospital said it was TB and HIV complications. Interesting…
Anyhow, right after the men brought out Titos’ body in the casket, some other men came out carrying a small bundle, wrapped in cloth. You guessed it, a tiny dead baby. They couldn’t even afford a casket. That about broke my heart. Death is so “in your face” here. I mean, how many Americans do you know who has ever washed their dead relative’s body and dressed it in preparation for burial? Death is so real here.
After we had the casket in the back of our truck, we took off slowly with our hazards flashing to Titos uncle’s house, where the rest of the family was. The men in back helping hold the casket were singing songs. Once we arrived, we heard loud wailing (almost like singing in anguish) and saw people everywhere. The casket was taken through the house to the back yard and placed on a woven mat on the ground, in a shaded area. We were taken to the backyard where the pastor started a time of prayers, singing and message. Pete was given the opportunity to share some verses and pray. He broke down during it. My tears were flowing too. After the message, the time of saying goodbye arrived. They opened the casket and pulled the lid back so just the head was exposed. Titos’ body was wrapped in white cloth. Some of the brothers unwrapped his head part way so about 5 inches of his face was exposed. The pastor motioned for Titos’ wife to begin the procedure of staying good bye. She was escorted by her mother to where her husband’s body lay in the casket. She was already crying and knelt down to give him one last kiss. She collapsed and started wailing again. After that, a line started forming for people to say their goodbyes. Everyone who passed by the casket would look down and either wail or cry. It was so sad.
After the goodbyes were said, the body was again loaded in the back of our truck and we started slowly to the cemetery. We had Titos wife and her mom and sister in the truck with us. Loads of people were walking and singing. Once we arrived at the cemetery, the casket was unloaded and taken to the hole they had dug. The casket was placed on the ground and the large group of people stood around it in the hot sun. More singing and talking took place. Then they lowered the casket down into the hole, covered it with woven mats and then everyone stood in line to grab a handful of dirt to throw on the casket. More singing and waiting and then the pastor called Pete to say something about Titos. I wanted to say something as well. I actually wasn’t sure how appropriate it was that a white woman say something at a male’s funeral but after asking our house worker who was with us about it, he said it would be fine. I told the large group of people that we really would miss Titos. He was always a happy worker and so willing to help us out. I told them of the countless times that he protected me from the crazy kissing man on the streets, how good he was with our children and how he was a good friend to our family. I also passed on the many messages of sympathy that others had sent to their family. Pete went on to say that Titos had really become a friend to our family and that no other worker could be compared to his happy heart and willingness to help others. After that, there were people who handed out flowers to place on the mound of dirt and and that was the end of the funeral. We took Titos wife back to his uncle’s house and then left soon after.
We will go back tomorrow to visit again since it’s the 3rd day of mourning and after that Titos wife can move back to her house. Pete and I are discussing and seeking counsel from different Mozambicans in what we should do that would be appropriate for helping Titos wife and for how long. He was not under a work contract for us since he was part-time so legally we don’t have to do anything to sustain her. But, we want to do something to help. Finding the balance in appropriateness and being culturally sensitive is key.
Thank you for your kind thoughts and prayers for us. It has been hard but we truly believe that Titos placed his faith in Jesus and he was trusting in His sacrifice alone.
Titos, enjoy heaven! In the meantime, you will be missed greatly.
