What Ghanaian parents should tell Thier children about the Ashanti funeral customs.

 

Right after my mum passed away, I was lost and overwhelmed. I couldn't fathom how picking out funeral cloths, renting halls, and stocking up on booze could possibly help my family heal. But my older siblings and cousins, who hail from Ghana, took charge and led us through the process. At first, everything seemed to be going a million miles an hour and I was struggling to keep up. I didn't fully comprehend why certain things were so important.  

Why were we wearing black for the 1 week commemorations, Black and red for the funeral and black and white for the thanks giving. Having decided these colours why were some people asking what colours we're wearing for the 1 week ? Why is it that the in-laws are buying the drinks for the 1 week and then again at the funeral. Why are we buying special cloth, handkerchief and a ring  to be buried with mum. Why have we never known any of these things ???

I longed for a book, an app, an appropriate adult to tell me what to do and most importantly WHY we're doing these things, to what end and for what purpose ?

But as we continued down this path, I began to see the profound impact that these traditions were having on our family - bringing us closer together and honoring our loved one in a truly meaningful way.

So I resolved to write the book I wish I had found. A book for a modern audience who don't know the 'whys' of a traditional Akan / Asante / Ashanti funeral.

Losing a parent, children, sibling, friend, or relative is earth-shattering. The ground beneath your feet falls away and you're left teetering on the edge of utter uncertainty. Death's unpredictability is a slap in the face that jolts you awake to a harsh, new reality. After my mother passed, I felt like a rudderless boat lost in a stormy sea.

In the days, weeks, and months that followed my mother's passing, every Akan funeral ceremony, tradition, and ritual gave me a lifeline that grew stronger with each passing day. Each occasion brought comfort and love from others, whether they were friends of my mother or my beloved cousins, brought in wave of heart warming love and heart wrenching tears and I felt a little better.

My cousin Abigail was my mum's god daughter. 3 of her best friends came to the funeral. We hadn't seen in 30 years. They were there because they cared about Abigail, their presence was a testament to the beauty of human connection. My mum and I sewed evening dresses for them in thier youth.

When I saw them every stitch of clothing that my mother and I made for them in the 90s felt like a symbol of love and a reminder that even in the darkest moments, there is light and warmth to be found. They came to show their love and support for Abigail, thier best friend, and to honor my dear mother - my heart was brimming with gratitude! Seeing familiar faces reminded me that even though my rock, my mother, was no longer with us, we had an army of people rallying behind us, making sure we were taken care of and loved. Others were here and our wellbeing was their concern.

We brought up in the west have inherited 'without knowing' the western perspective that it is we that are looking with a dispassionate eye, an analytical gaze, but we do not always know what it is that we see. The meanings behind Asante customs are felt by doing. And it is this that is important for parents to tell their children they give birth to abroad or in the city far from our traditions. Children who now offen don't attend church or mosque with their parents let alone funeral. I was such a child, brought up in the UK I was not interested in our family church my mum's sister the healer Maame Grace founded. 

Church of Grace Global was founded by my aunty in the 1950s in Ghana when her healing gifts led to her reciting passages from the bible although she had never been to school nor did she read or write, but she could let her hands on you and heal your illness. Pretty much the entire family left our traditional African Spiritual Practices and joined her Christian church. There are now over 100 branches in 3 continents. 

Although I grew up Christian I stopped going to church in my teens. I went to the odd funeral with my mum from time to time, but I was not immersed or versed in the true meanings of our traditions. As I got older I became  more affiliated with my grandfather's spiritual practices. He was a 'Dunsei' a healer using herbs and roots. He also was a healer who led on hands on people and healed them. He followed the guidance of his dreams and worked with the elements and nature.

When I lived in Ghana for 5 years as an adult. I joined some trade associations and learned about contributing to funds that would be given when you list a parent, child or sibling. I went to a few funerals with my association brothers and sisters. 

I worked for a short time for Joy FM as a documentary editor and went to a funeral for a colleague's mother's and had a great period of bonding with colleagues I rarely saw in the week and I gradually started to learn that it is the funeral that is the glue in Asantemang. 

In Ghana I had a tailoring business with about 9 tailor's at one point.

My best friend and I travelled 3 hours by bus to the 1 week commeroration of the death of one of my tailor's father. I had never met Kobi's father and I'm not sure if Kobi ever mentioned him, but I had learned from being a member of several entrepreneurial women's groups that this is what you did. Later in the month we and all of the other tailors and apprentices went back for the funeral and made sure to make a decent financial contribution to the funeral. This cemented our relationship. Nearly 10 years later Kobi and I are not in regular communication, but I know that he is someone I can call on in my hour of need. 

My small participation in his father's funeral has created a bond.