Funerals and Female Ju Ju’s

Friday’s death was a woman of 78. Now, in Cameroon that is a long life and a cause of celebration as well as sadness. She was mother and grandmother to 36 children and lived in a village about 10 miles from Ndu. I was invited to go with a jeep load of people from the Council, as the dead woman was the mother of a colleague.

What I did not know was that the journey was up hill – like driving up The Skirrid. We drove for around 5 miles on ‘roads’ then turned off up the hill for another five miles. On the way we picked us as many mourners as would fit in the jeep, on top of the 10 of us that had set off from Ndu earlier.

We thought we were late as we had taken about 90 minutes to gather everyone that wanted to go, then we had to buy beer. But when we arrived we were informed that they had only just started to make the coffin. First we all queued outside the woman’s house and in turn were invited into her bedroom to look at her. She was tucked up in bed looking very peaceful, with two of her daughters sitting beside her.

We then strolled around the village, admired the views and sat under trees hiding from the sun whist the family sawed away for 2 hours. Palm wine and soft drinks were handed round by the family and we knew when the actual funeral was going to start when we heard the nails being banged into the coffin.

Family and friends all gathered in the back garden where the coffin was displayed on a bench. A priest said a few words, then the elderly people in the village spoke followed by a young person. SG said a few words on behalf of the Council. Lastly the sons and daughters came forward and each banged the last nails into the lid of the coffin to seal it before it was carried to the graveside – in the back garden.

The grave had been dug earlier by 12 young male villagers. They then stood in the grave to receive the coffin and once installed in the grave it was covered with branches of trees. This, I am told is to give support for the 12 men who will tread all the soil that had been removed, back into place.

This process took over an hour. Soil is gradually sprinkled in whilst the men, standing in a square of 4 lines of 4, stomp on the grave making very tribal noises in unison. A chorus of women sing in a similar rhythm, ‘Finally, finally the Lord has taken her, finally, finally. After every ‘verse’ the men turn 90 degrees and carry on.

Once the soil has been replace young children place flowers on top of the grave and the female dancing Ju Ju’s start singing and dancing.

After a hearty meal of dried fish, fufu, huckleberry and rice, we left for home with a live chicken tucked under our arms for Sunday lunch.