Still on the Anambra Funeral Law

This morning, as I wandered through the shelves of my modest library in search of a particular volume, my fingers chanced upon a slender document – fourteen pages in all – bearing the title: Law to Control Burial/Funeral Ceremonies in Anambra State. Its brevity invited immediate engagement, and so I paused to read it in full.

One must begin with gratitude. To Bishop Paulinus Ezeokafor, whose apostolic wisdom extended not only to the living but with equal grace to the dead, I offer sincere thanks. He did not merely preach temperance in burial customs, he sought it through the proper channels of law, stirring the legislative conscience of the state. Through his advocacy, the Anambra State House of Assembly took up the challenge, and with due deliberation, passed the law. To them, my appreciation. And to former Governor Willie Obiano, who affixed his signature on the 9th of May, 2019, thereby giving legal life to what was once but moral suasion, I say well done. Let the remnants of his supporters , if they must, trumpet: “At last, Obienyem commends Obiano!” So be it.

But the law, though noble in intent, provokes reflection. I shall proceed, then, to examine some of its provisions as a concerned citizen mindful of the excesses that have burdened the bereaved as well is the mischief which this law seeks to tame.

Matters Arising from the Funeral Law

Abolition of Wake-Keeping:
The law stipulates that the Vigil Mass must not extend beyond 9:00 p.m., and it must be celebrated without the accompaniment of food, drink, or musical bands.

Comment: One is tempted to say – why not abolish the Vigil altogether? If the family wants as many masses as possible for the deceased, let them do that after the burial.

Duration of Burial Ceremonies:
The burial is to be confined to a single day, and the funeral Mass must not exceed two hours.

Comment: A commendable call for simplicity and dignity.

Condolence Visits:
These are limited to one day only.

Comment: In a culture where mourning has often been prolonged to vanity, this is a wise correction. If I should suggest, it will be that after the mass/service, interment should be the end of the burial – no canopies, no formal condolence and no further ceremonies.

Condolence Items:
Shall not exceed one jar of palm wine, one carton of beer, and one crate of soft drinks.

Comment: A necessary curb. Mourning should not turn into merrymaking. If my own idea is followed, these things will not even arise.

Souvenirs:
The bereaved are forbidden from distributing souvenirs.

Comment: Admirable. I have seen weddings and even funerals even till last week degenerate into exhibitions of wastefulness through this practice.

On ‘Ibunazo Nwada’:
A deceased woman’s maiden family shall not demand more than ₦10,000.

Comment: A bold provision, though enforcement remains the greater challenge. Some still demand killing of cow as part of rite of burial.

Special Uniforms (Asoebi):
These shall be restricted to immediate family, church groups, Umunna, Umuada, and Iyom.

Comment: Let modesty replace flamboyance; the dead deserve solemnity, not a parade.

Provision of Food and Drink:
The law renders it optional.

Comment: One might argue it should go further and prohibit it entirely. Supposing interment ends it all, this should not even arise.

Role of Umuada:
They are to be present only on the day of the wake and burial.

Comment: Here, the law stumbles. Section 13(1) prohibits wake-keeping, yet Section 22 calls for the Umuada to be present during it. Clarity is needed. My view remains: no wake-keeping, no Vigil Mass.

Youth Demonstrations:
This practice is abolished.

Comment: Perhaps a qualified exemption might be allowed within one’s village, where custom carries symbolic weight.

Brochures:
Their use is banned.

Comment: This may trouble the printers, but the law seeks to restrain excess.Good!

Mourning Period:
It is limited to one week, after which even widows and widowers are to resume normal activities.

Comment: A humane provision; grief must heal, not harden or give rise to further troubles.

On Widows/Widowers:
They must not be deprived of sleep or compelled to shave their heads.

Comment: This restores dignity to the bereaved and ends a long tradition of silent cruelty.

In sum, the Anambra Funeral Law is not without flaws, but it is a brave attempt to return decorum, simplicity, and charity to the rituals of death. For in the end, as the Stoics taught, death is the common inheritance of all – and how we honour it reveals much about how we live.

Some may contend that adopting these reforms would constitute an affront to our time-honoured traditions. But history teaches us that even the most sacrosanct customs yield, in time, to the quiet logic of change. Consider the evolution of funeral rites: there was an age, yes, even among our ancestors, when the dead were entombed alongside the living, sacrificed to serve them in the beyond. In time, conscience stirred, and such cruelty gave way to symbolic substitutes: statuettes, consecrated with incantations, were believed to perform the same duties for the departed.

There was a time, too, when the dead were carried out of the house through varied and secret exits, so as to confound the spirit and prevent its return to disturb the living. No such superstitions govern us now. The vultures of ritual have not perished, but they are retreating. One could multiply such examples endlessly, yet the lesson remains the same: tradition is not a fossil, but a flow – ever reshaping itself in response to conscience, reason, and necessity.

As Bishop Paulinus Ezeokafor rightly observes, the focus of our care should be not in extravagant honour for the dead, but in ensuring that the living are treated with dignity and sustained in life. Let us reimagine our rites, not as ostentation for the departed, but as a testimony of compassion, simplicity, and reverence for life itself.