One of my earliest memories that formed what I now know as a feminist awakening happened when I watched a movie in a salon.
I cannot remember the title of the movie but I know it starred Stella Damasus and it was on widowhood.
If I close my eyes, I am sure that I will still see the image of her character having a shaved bald head. I will also still recall the ensuing conversations in the salon surrounding the experiences of widows in Nigeria. The stripping of wealth by in-laws, the fact that even the presence of a son was no protection and the need to ensure your husband left a will.
Few weeks ago, Vivian Nnabue, a social media associate and florist shared another angle to grief which is often ignored or not amplified as much. This is the erasure and disrespect of women during crucial burial rites. She mentioned how her late Aunty’s daughters had their names and tributes written last in the obituary booklet.
It led to several Nigerian and other African women sharing how they were prevented from being listed as announcers of the burial, being disinherited, being made to pour sand last even as first daughters and even being denied the knowledge of where their fathers were buried.
The ensuing discourse reinforced my belief that literally everything on the face of the earth has a gendered angle to it. Politics. Medicine. Education. Grief too. Women always have the added layer of gender barriers when navigating being a human being.
Women and girls experience grief differently and we need to speak about this. From being disinherited to facing scorn for dating again three years after their husband or child’s father’s death, it really seems like women cannot take a break in matters of life and death.
We need to discuss the resentment that women face when they realise that their only use in burials is planning the logistics but never the official property sharing. How do we protect women in polygamous marriages who have only daughters and can face zero inheritance should their husbands die?
Where is the justice for daughters who are made to cook during a condolence visit while grieving or mourning? Why is there even the expectation that a grieving family has to break the bank to feed guests who may not have held the deceased in high esteem?
When asked to share her experiences, a lady identified as NS shared how after carrying the bulk of her mother’s care, she was sidelined during the burial.
In her words: “I remember when my mom passed away two years ago, it was one of the most difficult times of my life. I was the only one handling everything while she was in the hospital. I paid all her medical bills throughout her stay, and even after she was discharged, I continued to care for her completely on my own. During that entire period, no one from the family showed up or offered help.
When she eventually passed, I also had to cover the cost of embalming and the monthly bills for the time she spent in the morgue. I took full responsibility for everything, her outfit, her casket, the burial site, refreshments everything.
Then, out of nowhere, her family stepped in and began changing all the plans I had made. I tried to push back, but one of her brothers called to warn me to step aside or they would “deal with me,” implying serious harm or that I could die. After that, I was completely shut out of the burial arrangements.
In the end, I just traveled to the village for the burial, paid my last respects, and returned to Lagos the very next day. I wasn’t allowed to be a part of planning or saying goodbye the way I had hoped. I was completely excluded from my own mother’s burial.”
For YK, a Zambian doctor, she narrates how unaddressed grief from her father’s death led to medical conditions.
To quote her: “When my father passed away I was forced to go into an authoritarian position. I was making big decisions because everyone thought I was strong when I was 17. I put my emotions on the back burner just so I could carry everyone else’s problems. It’s been 6 years and I still haven’t fully grieved him.
I find myself thinking about him every day and suppressing my emotions definitely had a negative effect on me. I ended up with two strokes and an autoimmune disorder. The best advice I could give you is to cry whenever you feel like it. Don’t suppress your emotions. Sit with those feelings until you can make sense of them. Your body is keeping score and whatever you’re choosing to ignore will definitely make itself known in other ways e.g your physical health.”
Women must be seen as human in matters of life and death. If women know that they are not seen as valid enough to be inheritors of property, it can and will affect how they move.
To solve this, we must undo the idea that men are women’s leaders. Until we unlearn this belief, women will always be second fiddle to men.
Angel Nduka-Nwosu is a writer, journalist and editor. She moonlights occasionally as a podcaster on As Angel Was Sayin’. Catch her on all socials @asangelwassayin.