It has been said that the two most certain things in this life are death and taxes. Truth is, while we can evade or avoid taxes, the Grim Reaper cannot be stopped once it comes knocking on your door. In Jamaica, death and how it is treated with respect to funeral rites are oftentimes a most glamorous and expensive affair. Indeed, in recent times, it is not only the high cost of living that has become a burden to many Jamaicans but also the high cost of dying.

Ironically, while those in the upper echelons of the society tend to go for a simple, reasonably inexpensive exercise when burying their dead, those in the lower socio-economic bracket go for the kill (no pun intended). For example, during my stint as a Member of Parliament (MP), I discovered that one major role of the elected representative was to attend funerals as well as help with the expenses of burying the dead in his constituency. I recall having to attend four funerals in one day! Needless to say, if I had missed one of them there would have been hell to pay, as disappointed constituents would berate the MP for “not showing him face”.

And attendance was not the only requirement. I recall, too, that a large portion of my Constituency Development Fund (CDF) was paid out to funeral parlours, as it was expected that the MP must foot some, if not all, of the burial costs, in addition to providing refreshments for the “dead yard”. While we are on the subject of “dead yard”, funding that exercise can be a very expensive proposition, as every day and night leading up to the interment food and drinks have to flow in abundance accompanied by blaring music and carousing. In this vein, it is no secret that people, some of whom are in no way related to the dear departed, visited these mourning households, prior to and after the funeral, just to “nyam a food” and drink liquor, all free of cost.

A banker friend of mine told me that once he and a friend were on their way to Montego Bay after attending a conference and decided to make a stop to quench their thirst in a rural district. Having seen a large crowd and hearing loud music being played, they assumed it was “a session”, so they planned to just pop in and purchase a drink then move on. On entering the venue they were surprised when immediately they were presented with plates of curried goat and pints of beer. One of them asked a gyrating woman, who was having the time of her life, what the occasion was. She replied, “Is a dead yard, sar, but to tell you di truth me no know a who dead. Me just a pass through.”

Recently, I witnessed at a repast a well-dressed woman who was toting a large “Lada bag”, and when she believed no one was looking she would scrape the goodies off the table into the receptacle.

Then there are the “professional mourners” who turn up at the church and the burial spot “bawling” and writhing in grief, having been paid to do so. Some time ago a certain national tabloid carried a feature story about a young man who confessed to being a professional mourner, and he stated that he was earning thousands of dollars for his efforts.

Also, to my amazement, some so-called “amateur” mourners turn up at funerals, weeping and mourning. I will never forget an incident at a well-known church in Montego Bay where a funeral service was in progress. There was a woman beside me moaning so much, it was annoying. She turned to me at one point and asked to borrow my funeral programme so that she could find out “who dead”. In order to stop the moaning, I handed her the programme, which she perused, and while returning it to me she leaned forward and whispered in my ear, “You have anything can give mi? Mi thirsty.” And she was well dressed!

On a wider scale, the country is currently facing a serious crisis with respect to finding burial space. Most public cemeteries are full to the brim, and the Government is having a challenge finding suitable lands to establish new cemeteries. Especially in the rural areas, many families have private plots but, alas, a recent news item revealed that relatives were exhuming their dead in order to sell the land on which they were buried because it has become valuable real estate. In fact, some funeral parlours are now offering exhumation services, giving the relatives the option of cremating the dug-up remains.

In the meantime, there have been instances of grave robbing, as miscreants seek to relieve the dear departed of valuables that they were buried with. In other instances, Obeah practitioners want to avail themselves of skulls to carry out certain macabre rituals for selected clients. Sacre’ bleu! Cemeteries have also been used for such nefarious purposes as prostitution and the hiding of guns — especially the ancient tombstones with flat tops that can be used as a bed or be put aside then replaced after hiding contraband in it. Needless to say, no one is afraid anymore of a “duppy” but most certainly a gunman!

One proposition that should be explored has to do with the amount of space each gravesite takes up. This writer is told that in Italy, in order to conserve space, the dead is buried vertically, in the same way that high-rise buildings allow for more space for expansion and development.

These elaborate tombstones, some taking on all kinds of shapes and forms, including houses and motor vehicles, is frankly a grand waste of time and space. Meanwhile, it is being recommended that more Jamaicans should explore the cheaper and more convenient option of cremation, but some people have objected to this practice, as it defies the scenario of “the dead in Christ shall rise”. But then there is also “ashes to ashes, dust to dust, often said at the graveside.

In the final analysis, how we treat with the dearly departed should not bankrupt us or become a burden on the State or other people. Regrettably, many do not make preparations for their earthly exit. On a regular basis I am approached by grieving individuals “begging a money” to help bury their dead or to “buy a bottle of white rum” for the wake/nine night.

On a lighter note, the story is told about a man and a woman who were caught copulating in the cemetery by the police. When facing an irate judge, who berated them for such an act of desecration, they held their heads down, embarrassed. “Woman, have you no shame?” His Lordship asked. She replied rather sheepishly, “Your Honour, I was the undertaker.”

I sincerely hope that none of my readers will die laughing!

Lloyd B Smith has been involved full-time in Jamaican media for the past 49 years. He has also served as a Member of Parliament and Deputy Speaker of the House of Representatives. He hails from western Jamaica where he is popularly known as the Governor. Send comments to the Jamaica Observer or lbsmith4@gmail.com.