The burial of my great-aunt was meant to be a solemn and respectful event. Instead, it became a painful display of disunity among siblings.
There was clear tension between my uncle Solomon and his elder sisters. His sisters were financially stronger, and unfortunately, they refused to carry him along in the burial planning. This lack of communication and unity led to chaos on the burial day.
The corpse was brought from the mortuary in a coffin, accompanied by drummers who paraded it to the main road. However, when they reached the road, the ambulance that was supposed to be waiting had been canceled by my uncle. Shockingly, the coffin was dropped on the road—something that should never happen in our culture.
Panic set in. The driver’s phone was initially unreachable,
and when contact was finally made, he revealed he had taken another client but promised to arrive within an hour. It was embarrassing and heartbreaking.
When we arrived at my great-aunt’s house, we discovered there was no canopy to shield guests from the weather. There were no chairs for exhausted attendees and, most importantly, no coffin podium prepared. Basic arrangements had not been made. All of this could have been avoided with proper planning and unity.
The elders of the community quickly sensed that there was conflict among the siblings. They paused the burial proceedings to address the matter. Palm trees and bamboo were arranged to create temporary shade while discussions took place.
My uncle and his sisters were brought before the elders. Each claimed they had no issue with one another, though the tension was obvious. My uncle openly said that all he wanted was to successfully bury his mother and afterward cut ties with his sisters.
The elders advised them wisely. They reminded them that their late mother would not want division among her children. She would want love, unity, and peace. After much counsel, the siblings forgave one another, and some of the tension eased.
They then officially presented themselves before the community to declare that they were burying their mother.
A simple stone podium was prepared, church choruses were sung, prayers were offered, and finally, my great-aunt was laid to rest.
ust when we thought the challenges were over, we arrived at the event field and discovered
refreshments had not been properly arranged. For a Nigerian burial—where hospitality is highly valued—the snacks provided did not reflect the importance of the occasion.
Despite everything, the burial was completed. My uncle later returned to Lagos.
https://ecency.com/hive-165757/@amaborri/a-journey-home-to-say
Wake up: Hive is basically a cartel playground.
They're printing 6–7 figure salaries for themselves every day from that endless inflation.
Power down. Sell some. Take profits.
Liquidity = freedom. You never go broke taking gains.
You're welcome.