Funerals in Our Communities: Love, Tradition… and Heavy Costs

I don’t know how other communities do it, but in the Black community, funerals are a full production. They are emotional, yes, but they are also stressful and expensive. From the day the sad news arrives, it feels like life switches gears into weeks of planning, feeding, and gathering.

The Endless Two Weeks

In many families, the funeral only happens up to two weeks later. Sometimes that’s because of financial constraints — waiting for policy payouts or for family members to pull resources together. But those two weeks aren’t quiet days of mourning. No, they’re days of cooking, serving, hosting, and somehow trying to hold it all together emotionally.

Every day, people stream in to pay their respects. They’re served tea, coffee, cookies, baked bread, and sometimes even full meals. It doesn’t stop until the day of the burial. And trust me, those last two days are the heaviest. That’s when you see who really stands with the family, because the work — from preparing food to setting up — is so much that the entire village has to lend a hand.

The Hidden Traditions and Costs

Then there are the cultural requirements. For example, I recently learned that when a woman passes as a makoti, her family must dress her in makoti attire. In the Xhosa tradition, this includes a specific blanket and a straw mat. And that’s just one tradition. Every family, every culture has its own list of what must be done — and each of those things comes at a cost.

This is before we even mention the big expenses: coffins, transport, tents, chairs, sound systems, catering, and the never-ending list of “must-haves.” Funerals are not cheap.

When Tradition Meets Reality

Here’s the thing: all these practices come from a place of love and respect. We want to honour our loved ones properly. But somewhere along the way, funerals stopped being just about remembrance and became massive financial and social obligations. And that can leave families exhausted — emotionally, financially, and physically.

My Personal Take

Honestly? I’m starting to imagine a much simpler farewell for myself. Something like being laid to rest within 72 hours, no two-week marathon of cooking and serving. Whoever comes can have a sandwich, and if they want to grieve, they can do so quietly at my graveside.

Because at the end of the day, what matters most is the love we shared while alive — not the size, cost, or length of the funeral.