The Price of a Final Farewell

By: Mavis Yaa Owusu Asare

In Ghana, the quality of a final farewell is not the same for everyone, it often depends on status and wealth. 

Some undertakers serve only affluent families, royals, and prominent public figures, while others extend their craft to anyone who seeks their services.

Before the deceased is laid in state, families devote great care to preparing the body for public viewing. A final cleansing carefully applied makeup, and a chosen outfit become acts of love. To carry out this delicate work, they entrust skilled hands: the undertakers.

The undertaker at work

Because their work happens away from public view, many see these undertakers as mysterious, often wrapped in myths and misconceptions.

 Agya Osei Bonsu has spent more than ten years in the profession and insists he never went through formal apprenticeship.

Entrance of a replica of 'Kway3 Bibrem'

"I don't have a master or madam. I didn't learn from anyone, it's a gift from God, Apoli Queen Mother died and I decided to lay her in state for free. So they gave me Apoli Agogo Chief to lay in state and then after Apoli Zebor Chief and then Apoli Bepowso hene and then it followed."

 How families handle their dead varies across cultures. In the Akan tradition, the death of royalty demands a unique send-off. The deceased is laid in state in a forest setting, a replica of "kway3 bibrem".

 "You'll first have to put up a 2x2 wooden structure then you arrange the palm branches, cocoa leaves and some trees with leaves like the plantain tree just when you go to the village then after everything when you enter you'll see a crocodile after that you'll walk over the bridge and see a snake then you later see an elephant after that you'll see a statue of Nana and the dog because when you go into most homes in the village there's a dog then you enter Nana's home itself." Agya added

Agya Bonsu notes it takes about two years to perfect this craft. "None of the boys I work with paid anything for training. For this job, You should be perfect in 2 years"

Years on the job have made him dismiss the fear around his work. "This job is not scary, the outsiders think it's scary, I hear some of you say dead bodies can cry, those who work on ordinary bodies come and rant on social media with all kinds of stories, they are all lies."

And yes, it pays. "There is money in this business, the highest I have charged for a job is GHC 70,000 for the late Chief of Twifo Hemang, Nana Ansah Sasraku"

Death is often shrouded in fear, and those who work closest to it are easily drawn into that mystery. Yet beyond the myths lies a profession, one that helps families grant their loved ones a dignified farewell.