Tomorrow I'll be attending my first Zulu funeral. We took in 2 children a few weeks ago as their mother was seriously ill. It was a privilege to pray for her last Tuesday when she was here briefly. She looked as if the hope had gone from her eyes. She died early on Saturday morning in a hospice. She was 29.
The funeral is tomorrow in her birthplace far from here. There was no one to move her body from the hospice to the mortuary yesterday so we had to send a car to help. We'll be providing the same help tomorrow. The funeral directors are overwhelmed and so it falls to the families to organise everything. In this case there is little family around, although we have made contact with her brother who is arranging everything.
I have spent quite a bit of time making sure that the 6 month old girl has been cared for properly here with us. She is a little treasure and at her age I guess she won't remember much about her mother. Her brother has settled into the creche, he's gorgeous too, but only speaks Zulu and it's fun to watch the volunteers try to communicate with him. I am managing to speak Zulu with him, albeit haltingly. He's about 4 so will feel his mother's death more. Both children will be with us tomorrow as it's traditional.
I'll write more after the event. At the moment we are busy sorting out logistics. I'm sure there is more to reflect on. I took photos of her with her son last week. These are being printed here at the internet cafe as I write. One or two will be framed and placed on the coffin tomorrow.
