SOMETIME back, I published an article as per captioned. This was of course, prompted by a dear colleague of mine who had found himself hospitalized for a prolonged illness. One night, he called me from his hospital bed pleading for urgent assistance.
“Am dying Bill,” his voice faltered on the other end of the line. “Any help from you would be highly appreciated ….”
Egged on by my wife, I reluctantly tore myself aware from the warmth of her embrace and found my way to the hospital. The gentleman whom I had known as a jovial and chubby fella was a sorry sight of himself. He extended his frail hand to exchange a handshake. His face was ashen…….he was having difficulties breathing.
“Why didn’t you inform me earlier on?” I was shocked.
As he tried to open his mouth to speak, he splattered and coughed unceasingly. In the meantime, his chest was heaving in and out, spasmodically. Suddenly, he was sound asleep.
There was only one other person by the bed side, a lady in her 30s. She explained that he rented a room from her in her modest house in one of the sprawling townships in the city. When she noticed that he hadn’t been seen out of his room for two days, she decided to investigate only to find him on the floor, gasping for air.
“We’ve been here for two weeks now, I’ve tried contacting his relatives including his uncle at Bank of Zambia…” she explained, painstakingly. It was clear she hadn’t had decent sleep for days. “They keep promising they’ll get back to me, but to no avail. I’ve now run out of money to buy him fruits or even drugs that aren’t readily available in the pharmacy.”
That’s how myself and this other friend of ours picked up all the medical expenses. As they say, God’s plans aren’t ours. One quiet evening, Abishai transitioned to the land of the dead. We immediately informed his relatives in Lusaka but they didn’t show up until the night before the burial.
We were keeping vigil around a bonfire, when we were alerted to what sounded like big SUVs outside the gate. After the opening and slamming of doors, we heard squeaking sounds of chickens, and the newly arrived urging each other to lift this and that!
However, before they could come into the yard, we sprang to our feet and closed the gate.
“Take your chickens back to Lusaka!” we ordered them. “Where were you when Abi needed you the most? He needed all this food when he was indisposed! You’ve even come with an expensive casket, sorry we don’t need it; we burry our friend in a simple coffin.”
A famous musical artist has recently died in a tragic mishap in the small town of Kapiri Mposhi. From the photos circulating on social media, he was yet to complete his house, no doubt he was struggling. As is always the norm when such eventualities occur, burial space worth K100, 000 was secured, a K50,000 casket was hastily bought and of course, there was enough for everyone to eat during the funeral.
While all the drama was unfolding regarding Wesley Chibambo’s (Dandy Crazy) funeral, Saviour Chishimba weighed in with interesting insights on mitzvah. All of us can learn from it in one way or another. According to Meta, mitzvah is any act of kindness, charity, or good deed that brings joy, helps others, or honours God.
“Flowers are not permitted because the dead are no longer alive to appreciate their beauty. Thus, wreaths are a mockery to the departed. Spending US$2,000 on a casket is not a mitzvah. It’s an insult and it has no benefit to the dead. From the Jewish perspective, such an amount would better be spent on a cause to perpetuate the legacy of the dead like support to children left behind or any charitable entity,” Chishimba elaborates in a write up.
Would you rather your relatives or friends continue watching you wallowing in abject poverty and only to come and demonstrate their grand generosity during your funeral? This is the worst hypocrisy! I’d rather be buried in a simple coffin like the Jews….and please, no roses and orchids on my grave as I won’t be there to appreciate them. After all, once you’ve interred my corpse 6 feet under, termites and maggots would’ve begun competing for a chunk of me in earnest.
Prince Bill M Kaping’a
Political/Social Analyst
Give Roses and Love in life not Death
Unfortunately it now appears it’s been turned into a political charade
Thank you for the article. At one church the priest chased away relatives of a destitute grand mother. The woman was staying in a cabin and depended on well-wishers for food especially the church. So they bought a beautiful casket, all of them dressed in expensive chitenge material.
The priest just told them: lekeni tushike fwebene umuntu Wesu.
The incomplete house was a shock but not entirely surprising.