"If God, who revealed life to us and whose only desire is to bring us to life, loved us so much that He wanted to experience with us the total absurdity of death, then, yes, there must be hope; there must be something more than death; there must be a promise not fulfilled in our short existence in this world…" (Henri J.M. Nouwen, A Letter of Consolation, Harper & Row, 1982, p.78)
EXAMINING South Africa’s historical consciousness reveals that “forgetting to remember” is a pervasive element in the national psyche. Equally insidious is “remembering to forget”, symptomatic of the country’s historical amnesia.
This anomaly is starkly illustrated by how graves of loved ones are mistreated and neglected in the name of Christianity.
Each time I visit my hometown, Ermelo, Mpumalanga, I ensure I visit my late parents’ graves. Last weekend, after delivering a keynote address commemorating eleven neighbours who perished in a car accident five decades ago, I listened to a compelling sermon by Father Makhanya of the Catholic Church. I feared my address might clash with Christian ethos and values.
In my speech, I cited Christoph Leiden, who, in his article Memoria Saieptus: Cicero and the Mastery of Memory in his (Post) Consular Speeches, argues that those who master memory also master the future — by commemorating the past, they offer essential guidance for society’s future functioning.
Leiden references Cicero, who argued that “day and night, virtue incites the mind with the inducement of glory, exhorting us to extend our commemoration beyond our lifetimes to all posterity”.
I also quoted William Breitbart, MD, from his book A Meaningful Death, who insightfully opines: “Just as we seek meaning in life, we seek meaning in death. Our fear is that 'death' renders life meaningless. The deeper truth is that death cannot negate one’s life’s meaning but affirms it. The key is the attitude one takes toward death while living a mortal life, punctuated often sadly by death.”
I stated that the deaths of our beloved neighbours and friends in 1975 did not negate but affirmed the meaning of their lives — their contributions and gifts to us and humankind. Though physically gone, their places are sealed in our hearts. If death means non-existence, what meaning could life possibly have? What makes life meaningful is our search for a meaning that death cannot destroy.
DH Lawrence wrote: “The dead do not die. They look on and help.” Thomas Campbell reminds us: “To live in the hearts and minds of those left behind is not to die.” Those transitioning to the realm of ancestors continue living through their legacy — a heritage they leave behind. As Rickey, the famous American baseball player, noted: “It is not the honour you take with you, but the heritage you leave behind.”
I was astounded when Father Makhanya delivered his sermon. The synergy between his message and my address was remarkable. Father Makhanya underscored the importance of honouring and remembering our departed loved ones, whom Professor John Mbiti calls “the living dead”. He posed a profound question: Can your mother, who carried you for nine months, suddenly become a demon upon her earthly departure? His reflection moved me deeply: “What is the point of believing in God if the ultimate fate is to become a demon?”
He highlighted how people visiting Rome and Israel unashamedly photograph themselves next to biblical graves, yet their relatives’ graves back home are neglected. He concluded with a controversial analogy: “How is it that people still vote for the ANC despite its failures?” He answered: “When the names of its ancestors (Luthuli, Tambo, Mandela, Maxeke, Mbeki, Sisulu, et al) are invoked, grievances are forgiven.” For me, this captured his sermon’s essence: Disregarding departed loved ones is perilous.
Sometimes, the English language misrepresents African thoughts. Invoking the spirit of a late parent is not ancestor worship but remembrance. The veneration shown to the dead is one of humanity’s oldest beliefs. Family members who die join the spirit world and are closer to God. We do not worship ancestors; we remember our beloved departed.
After the sermon, we visited the cemetery to bless the tombstones. The sight left me emotionally devastated — gaps ing graves disfigured by incessant rain. Are they neglected because the departed are now deemed “demons”? Are they abandoned due to crass materialism or guilt instilled by the “gospel of salvation”, devaluing indigenous traditions?
Is something seriously wrong with our psyches as black Africans, or are they involuntarily revolting against Western cultural norms we historically assimilated? Why do we neglect cemetery cleanliness? Is it poor hygiene or ancestral revolt against Western traditions? Are tombstones foreign to African spirits? Let’s explore tombstones’ origin and history before unfairly criticising Africans.
Nowhere does recorded history mention Africans’ contribution to tombstones. Is the neglect of tombstone maintenance by Africans due to cultural incompatibility with European traditions? If so, how do we bridge this divide and foster a tradition of keeping African cemeteries clean?
* Dr Vusi Shongwe works in the Department of Arts and Culture in KwaZulu-Natal and writes in his personal capacity.
** The views expressed here do not reflect those of the Sunday Independent, Independent Media, or IOL.