Nelson Mandela Dead at 95


December 5, 2013 5:03 PM ET
Former South African President, Nelson Mandela
Former South African President Nelson Mandela
Dave Hogan/Getty Images

Nelson Mandela, the Nobel Peace Prize-winning anti-apartheid leader imprisoned for decades before becoming South Africa’s first black president and an international symbol of freedom, has died at 95. He had long been battling complications from a respiratory infection.

Look back at Nelson Mandela’s life in photos

Mandela was at the center of sweeping changes across South Africa during a tumultuous period that saw the former Dutch and English colony transition from apartheid‚ a racist class structure in place since the early 1900s that limited the rights of black South Africans and codified rule by the white Afrikaner minority‚ into an inclusive democracy that enfranchised millions of non-whites who were deprived even of their citizenship under the repressive system.

His opposition to apartheid came with a cost: Mandela spent 27 years as a political prisoner for his association with the African National Congress, a black-rights group that sometimes resorted to violence in resisting the white government. Denounced as a terrorist and communist sympathizer, Mandela spent close to two decades of his internment in a dank concrete cell on Robben Island, where the glare of the sun during his work shifts in a lime quarry permanently damaged his eyesight. An international campaign resulted in his release from prison on February 11th, 1990. Negotiations soon followed with South African President F.W. de Klerk that led to the dismantling of apartheid four years later, when South Africa held a multi-racial general election that elevated Mandela to the presidency. In 1993, he and de Klerk were awarded the Nobel Peace Prize for their efforts.

As president, Mandela sought to repair rifts among South Africa’s factions and ethnicities, and he enacted a new constitution, appointed a diverse cabinet and established a Truth and Reconciliation Commission to investigate crimes committed under apartheid by the government and the ANC. He declined to run for a second five-year term, and left the presidency in 1999.

“Mandela shows what was possible when a priority is placed on human dignity, respect for law, that all people are treated equally,” President Barack Obama said while visiting South Africa over the summer. “And what Nelson Mandela also stood for is that the well-being of the country is more important than the interests of any one person. George Washington is admired because after two terms he said enough, I’m going back to being a citizen. There were no term limits, but he said I’m a citizen. I served my time. And it’s time for the next person, because that’s what democracy is about. And Mandela similarly was able to recognize that, despite how revered he was, that part of this transition process was greater than one person.”

Born to illiterate parents with distant connections to the ruling family in one of South Africa’s indigenous territories, Mandela spent his childhood tending cattle and attending a local Methodist mission school, which instilled in him a lifelong love of learning. His political awakening began when he developed an interest in his African heritage while attending a college for black students, and deepened while he studied law in the Forties, when he joined the ANC.

Mandela rose through the ranks of the ANC’s Youth League, which elected him national president in 1950. Inspired by Gandhi, he initially advocated nonviolent resistance before adopting a more militant outlook in the mid-Fifties as civil disobedience proved ineffective. He was first arrested in 1952 as part of a government crackdown on suspected communists, and he spent the next 12 years in and out of custody as he and the ANC worked to undermine apartheid. He was convicted in 1964 on charges of conspiracy to violently overthrow the government and sentenced to life in prison.

His imprisonment prompted an international outcry, and apartheid made South Africa the subject of economic sanctions and cultural boycotts in the Eighties that helped secure Mandela’s release and end apartheid.

After he left the presidency, Mandela established the Nelson Mandela Foundation to combat the spread of HIV and AIDS and advocate for rural development and the construction of schools. He became a vocal critic of the U.S. and Britain for their 2003 invasion of Iraq, and though he largely retired from the public eye in 2004, Mandela helped bring the World Cup to South Africa in 2010.

Mandela is survived by his third wife, Graça Machel, whom he married on his 80th birthday, and his ex-wife Winnie Mandela, along with three children, 16 grandchildren and numerous great-grandchildren.

http://www.rollingstone.com/politics/news/nelson-mandela-dead-at-95-20131205

Read more: http://www.rollingstone.com/politics/news/nelson-mandela-dead-at-95-20131205#ixzz2mdsxgxnB
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Badge of honour


It is the silly season. The season of madness. It’s the time for holiday merriment with its relentlessly upbeat expectations, sometimes forced, especially for those of us grieving the loss of a loved one.

No matter where I or what I am doing, there is always one thought that is in the forefront of my mind: “My child is dead”. That thought can never be erased. It has become a part of my soul.

I sense an impatience in some people for me to “get over it”, “put it in the past”, “stop dwelling on your loss”, or “move forward”

Yes, I have moved forward, but I can never forget. There is an aching in my soul and a hole in my heart. There is always a part of me that is always aware that “my child is dead.” I will never be complete again. Nothing or no one can fill the place my child had in my life and heart!

Like a drowning person I am grabbing onto symbolic things – an angel garden, burning candles, a memorial light in a tree of remembrance, a Hospice….. These symbolic things simultaneously provides solace, searing pain and anger.

On Friday night the Tree of Remembrance was lit at the premises where our Hospice building is. I was filled with such immense sadness that I was unable to contain my tears. I know that I was not the only one moved by the lighting of the tree. I was flanked by a dear friend who lost her husband nine months ago and a colleague who lost her mother a year ago. Gentle tears ran down their cheeks. Jared, my eldest grandson who stood behind me, put his arms around me and whispered “I miss Mommy too…”


Many bereaved people will pretend this is just another holiday season. It isn’t. I refuse to pretend that it is.

This will be my first birthday, our first Christmas, Jared’s 17th birthday and New Year without Vic. My birthday I hope to ignore. Christmas Eve we will spend at Lani’s house with a lot of people we don’t know. I know there will be no room for thought. There will be a lot of food, gifts, talking, laughing…. Christmas Day I will go to a squatter camp with Reuben and the children in his church. We will provide the poor with a meal. Jared’s birthday – we will all make a huge effort to make special… New Year’s I will remember knowing last year that Vic was dying. That it was her last New Year.

Dick Lumaghi, bereavement coordinator for Hospice of Ukiah says “The depth of a grief is exactly proportional to the depth of attachment; from one perspective, a deep grief is a badge of honour, a big love between two people.”

I do wear my grief as a badge of honour. My precious child was gentle, kind, compassionate, beautiful, loyal and loving. She earned every tear I have ever shed. She earned ever tear I will ever shed. I wish people would understand that it’s total impossible for me to “get over it”, “put this in the past”, “stop dwelling on your loss”, or “move forward”.

I love my child. I miss my child. I want my child home with me.


Mommy can you feel how sore it is?


I posted this a year ago.

I still remember my precious child’s eyes.  Old, wise eyes filled with pain and fear.  I remember the unrelenting nausea and excruciating pain.  I remember my beautiful child’s desperate fight to live.

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I remember her holding my hand, her tears silently running down her cheeks… The fear in my heart that her suffering would never end.

Now I wish I could hold her one more time; wipe her precious tears away; whispering “I love you angel child”

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Hospice has just fitted a subcutaneous driver – again.   Vic’s pain has spiralled out of control over the past couple of days.

Vic was in absolute excruciating pain during the night.  She battled to breath.

“Help me Mommy!  I can’t stand the pain anymore…”

I lay next to her and put constant pressure on the area that hurt most.  It was just below her ribcage – liver.  “Oh Mommy, it is so sore.  Can you feel how sore it is?

As a little girl Vic used to believe that I could “feel” her pain…

“Feel how sore my toe is Mommy…”

As I lay there with my hand on her “sore” I wished with every fibre in my body that I could lay my hand on her sick body and soak up the pain and disease.  It cannot be so I look for a new spot on her bum to stick in a needle.

Vic seems calm now and the pain under control.  She is sleeping peacefully.  She has not vomited since this morning and managed to have a sandwich for lunch.

Please God let the subcutaneous driver work.  Please let the tissue hold up!   Please God!

I know that you are with me.  Feel my love Angel Child.  See my heart.  Know my heart.  Love you yesterday, today and forever.  Mommy

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Mother and Child Reunion


It is Friday again.

There is another funeral to attend.

In an hour and a half I have to attend the funeral of my late BFF’s mom who passed away on Tuesday.  My friends mom was like a back-up mom to me.  She was a lady from the top of her dignified head to the tip of her carefully manicured toes.  A gentle soul who had also buried a daughter.  A lady who attended all my loved one’s funerals….

I got so carried away with Stepping Stone Hospice that I neglected to visit her as often as I wanted.  A couple of times I arrived at her home, and she would be out.   She spent the last 7 weeks in hospital, and when I walked into her room, all masked up, she teared up and said “Where have you been?  I have missed you so much.”

So life passes us by.  We become too busy to visit those we love… and then one day, far too soon, they are gone.

She did not fear death.  In fact I think she embraced death in the end.  I know that she is reunited with Marlene.

I wonder whether she will bump into Vic and my Dad?

I am so tired of being sad.  I am so tired of pretending that I am okay – even happy.  I truly wish that it was my funeral today.  That I was the one reunited with her daughter…

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They say there is a reason…


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The Locket


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© Kathy J Parenteau

I have a special locket that rest above my heart,
it holds your beautiful pictures while we must be apart.
It’s my hope that you’re still with me no matter come what may,
so I know that I can talk to you every single day.
When I walk into a storm you’re watching over there,
guiding me to sunny skies with tender loving care.
I’ll never have to be alone you’re always next to me,
you show me love in different ways the eyes could never see.
Your spirit fills my soul with love beyond any explanation,
with pride I’ll wear it every day in total admiration.
Of the woman who changed my life and patiently awaits,
arms wide open to welcome me when I reach heavens gates.
It’s never really good bye if in your heart you do believe,
a mothers love is endless, and never ever leaves.

Source: The Locket, Mourning Poem http://www.familyfriendpoems.com/poem/the-locket#ixzz2l0SJf7xl
#FamilyFriendPoems

 

 

The Vicky Bruce Dignity Room


I am sitting in the Vicky Bruce dignity room. The boys bought some wall decorations that they put up earlier this week. It is not perfectly positioned on the wall, but it was part of their healing process. I think it is beautiful.

Everybody has left, and I am alone here. The energy of the “living” have left the building. It is quiet and peaceful, and I can feel Vic’s presence.

Today I read a sad blog. It is a mother’s anguished cry about her grief for her 29-year-old daughter who died 33 weeks ago. Thirty three weeks says it all. She is still counting the days; the weeks dreading the heartache that she knows still lies ahead. http://forjuliaruth.com/2013/11/10/what-about-grief/

Compared to Dru I am a veteran at the grieving thing. Vic died 43 weeks ago. Ten weeks do not sound like a lot, but it is a lifetime in the life of a grieving mother. Dru’s pain is raw. So is mine I suppose. I think it has become such a part of my life that I cannot remember what it felt like to be happy and carefree.

I also read a heart wrenching blog written by a grieving father. http://kerrichronicles.com/2013/11/12/the-miracle-of-his-short-presence/ John wrote the following “I ran into the room and Anita was holding Noah, lifeless, with no tubes or machines hooked to him. I cried out “No No No” as I rushed over to him and held onto him with all my life. We both cried for an eternity. I ran my hands through his hair and begged God for this not to be happening. ”

These words catapulted me back to the 18th of January 2013 when I clung to the lifeless body of my precious child. I still feel the heat of her fevered body against mine. I remember how beautiful her hair looked. I remember holding her and kissing her head.

Will the pain ever subside?

I don’t think so. Well-meaning friends and acquaintances tell me it will. But quite honestly they have never lost a child.

Tomorrow it will be 302 days since I held my child. 302 days of raw longing. 302 days without my beautiful Vic. 365 days ago I realised that Vic had started dying. Vic’s nausea was relentless. Her little body started shutting down. Her organs had started failing. Vic knew that day that she was dying. https://tersiaburger.com/2012/11/14/a-night-out-of-hell/. The Doctor put up an intravenous line to try to stop the nausea. Vic was fracturing vertebrae from vomiting….

My poor precious baby girl. Why did you have to suffer the way you did?

Would I turn back the clock? To have another five minutes with her I would. For one last hug, one last “I love you”, one last “You will always be in my heart” and one last “You made my life worth living…”

I love you baby girl.

A mother’s loss…




“No one loses a child the way a mother loses one. We are the ones who first felt life, carried it and protected them, nourished them, sacrificed our bodies for them, held them first in our hearts, then first into our arms. We were not only connected through flesh, but on levels so deep, you really have nothing to compare it too metaphysically.

It is a love so raw, and so elemental that is just present – just there from the beginning. We have a link to our children that cannot be replicated. No one understands a grieving mother except for another grieving mother. No one else can begin to understand that void that surrounds us, shadows us, haunts us. Our children’s screams that we can no longer answer, their bodies we can no longer grab and embrace, their tears we can no longer dry, and their hurts that we can no longer make better. They then become our own unanswered screams, our bodies that become un-embraceable, our tears that can never be dried and our hurts that never stop. There are constant reminders of what we live without, and must live without until we die – sometimes it feels like it’s life’s cruel way of taunting us. The grieving mother is never whole again, never fully present, because a piece of her heart and soul leave her with her child’s last breath.”

https://www.facebook.com/WingsofHopeLivingForward

May God have mercy on us…

To God


“To God, I hope you look after Auntie Vicky. She is very sick. Love Chloe Alexa Burger” My precious 5 year old UK granddaughter wrote this…her mommy found it in her school satchel last week.

To God

Dear God, hear the words of a five-year old.

Stepping Stone Hospice


This week I truly realised that the Stepping Stone Hospice patients are “our” people. Our friends. They are not strangers. They are people we know from church, they are our neighbours, our friends; friends of friends… Our Hospice cares for our own. We are not “removed” from the community.

We however continually grieve.

Stepping Stone Hospice is just so different. We are not a group of detached, paid staff doing a job. This is a Hospice driven by the tears of its members. It understands the fear in the hearts of its dying and its survivors. We see our loved ones

We have lost our fear of death. We have not become immune to the tears of our community and friends. We truly live and experience “Ubuntu” every day.

A little old lady has shuffled into our offices with R150.00 ($15.00). She told us that when the interest rate went up she would be in a position to increase her monthly contribution to our “worthy cause”. How amazing would it be if everyone in our community contributed $15.00 a month?

I love spending time in our building. I feel close to Vic.

Our Hospice journey is a healing journey. We have been helped over the stepping stones…now it is our turn to take the hand of another and help them over the stepping stones. What an amazing privilege. All built upon our own tears and the deaths of our loved ones.

Together We Walk the Stepping Stones
by Barb Williams

Come, take my hand, the road is long.
We must travel by stepping stones.
No, you’re not alone. I’ve been there.
Don’t fear the darkness. I’ll be with you.

We must take one step at a time.
But remember, we may have to stop awhile.
It’s a long way to the other side
And there are many obstacles.

We have many stones to cross.
Some are bigger than others.
Shock, denial, and anger to start.
Then comes guilt, despair, and loneliness.

It’s a hard road to travel, but it must be done.
It’s the only way to reach the other side.

Come, slip your hand in mind.
What? Oh, yes, it’s strong.
I’ve held so many hands like yours.
Yes, mine was once small and weak like yours.

Once, you see, I had to take someone’s hand
In order to take the first step.
Oops! You’ve stumbled. Go ahead and cry.
Don’t be ashamed. I understand.

Let’s wait here awhile so that you can get your breath.
When you’re stronger, we’ll go on, one step at a time.
There’s no need to hurry.

Say, it’s nice to hear you laugh.
Yes, I agree, the memories you shared are good.
Look, we’re halfway there now.

I can see the other side.
It looks so warm and sunny.
On, have you noticed? We’re nearing the last stone
And you’re standing alone.
And look, your hand, you’ve let go of mine.
We’ve reached the other side.

But wait, look back, someone is standing there.
They are alone and want to cross the stepping stones.
I’d better go. They need my help.
What? Are you sure?
Why, yes, go ahead. I’ll wait.

You know the way.
You’ve been there.
Yes, I agree. It’s your turn, my friend . . .
To help someone else cross the stepping stones.

 

A Mother’s Crown


Vic, a wonderful mother...
Vic, a wonderful mother…

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morningstoryanddilbert's avatarMorning Story and Dilbert

Heaven lit up with His mighty presence,
As all the Angels looked down,
Today the Lord was placing the jewels,
In all the mother’s crowns.

As He held up a golden crown,
As all the mother’s looked on,
He said in His gentle voice,
I just want to explain each stone.

He held the first gem in His hand
But the radiance couldn’t match His own.
For He was the light of Heaven,
Reflecting off each of the stones.

The first gem, He said, is an emerald,
And it’s for endurance alone,
For all the nights you waited up,
For your children to come home,

For all the nights by their bedside,
You stayed till the fever went down,
For nursing every little wound,
I add this emerald to your crown.

A ruby, I’ll place by the emerald,
For leading your child in the right way,
For if you hadn’t…

View original post 225 more words

sticks and stones and hurtful words


I reblogged this.  So often we use words without stopping to think that years later the words will still ring through the ears of the recipient…

When I first got married, and my ex-husband asked me for a divorce, he cited a couple of reasons for the request.

1.  I was a great mother, career person, entertainer, friend etc but I was a lousy wife

2.  He thought I was ugly

Now I know there was a certain amount of truth in the statement.  I knew that I was not focused on his needs quite as much as his mistress was.  But, I also knew, in my heart that, although I am not an oil painting, I was reasonably attractive in my own way.  Some people have even said I am pretty.

The fact remains – when I look at myself in the mirror I see what he saw.  When Danie and I have a disagreement he agrees with his predecessor.  Other days he will tell me I am beautiful.  Then I agree with his predecessor…

It is true that beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

It is also true that harsh words will never leave one’s head.  I still hear his words 34 years later!

Let us remember that words destruct and destroy.  Words can never be taken back.  Hurt lingers on….  Let’s be gentle!

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Love is…


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Never have I missed you more than today.

 

Africa Prayers for the Dead


“Christianity is the predominant religion in EuropeRussiathe Americas, the PhilippinesEast TimorSouthern AfricaCentral AfricaEast Africa and Oceania.[8] There are also large Christian communities in other parts of the world, such as Central Asia and the Middle East, where Christianity is the second-largest religion after Islam. The United States of America has the largest Christian population in the world, followed by Brazil and Mexico.[9]http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Christianity_by_country


Christianity has grown enormously in sub-Saharan Africa and the Asia-Pacific region, where there were relatively few Christians at the beginning of the 20th century. The share of the population that is Christian in sub-Saharan Africa climbed from 9% in 1910 to 63% in 2010, while in the Asia-Pacific region it rose from 3% to 7%. Christianity today – unlike a century ago – is truly a global faith.http://www.pewforum.org/2011/12/19/global-christianity-exec/

Despite the increase in the number of Christians in Africa superstition still plays a big role. 

In the religions of Africa, life does not end with death, but continues in another realm. The concepts of “life” and “death” are not mutually exclusive concepts, and there are no clear dividing lines between them. In many African languages, the words “we are living a little,” means that the individual is ill, and their “level of life” is very low. Death does not alter or end the life or the personality of an individual, but only causes a change in its conditions. This is expressed in the concept of “ancestors,” people who have died but who continue to “live” in the community and communicate with their families.

 

The African Concept of Death

Death, although a dreaded event, is perceived as the beginning of a person’s deeper relationship with all of creation, the complementing of life and the beginning of the communication between the visible and the invisible worlds. The goal of life is to become an ancestor after death. This is why every person who dies must be given a “correct” funeral, supported by a number of religious ceremonies. If this is not done, the dead person may become a wandering ghost, unable to “live” properly after death and therefore, a danger to those who remain alive. It might be argued that “proper” death rites are more a guarantee of protection for the living than to secure a safe passage for the dying. There is ambivalence about attitudes to the recent dead, which fluctuate between love and respect, on the one hand, and dread and despair on the other, particularly because it is believed that the dead have power over the living.

Many African people have a custom of removing a dead body through a hole in the wall of a house, and not through the door. The reason for this seems to be that this will make it difficult (or even impossible) for the dead person to remember the way back to the living as the hole in the wall is immediately closed. Sometimes the corpse is removed feet first, symbolically pointing away from the former place of residence. A zigzag path may be taken to the burial site, or thorns strewn along the way, or a barrier erected at the grave itself because the dead are also believed to strengthen the living. Many other people take exceptional pains to ensure that the dead are easily able to return to their homes, and some people are even buried under or next to their homes.

Many people believe that death is the loss of a soul, or souls. Although there is recognition of the difference between the physical person that is buried and the nonphysical person who lives on, this must not be confused with a Western dualism that separates “physical” from “spiritual.” When a person dies, there is not some “part” of that person that lives on—it is the whole person who continues to live in the spirit world, receiving a new body identical to the earthly body, but with enhanced powers to move about as an ancestor. The death of children is regarded as a particularly grievous evil event, and many people give special names to their children to try to ward off the reoccurrence of untimely death.

There are many different ideas about the “place” the departed go to, a “land” which in most cases seems to be a replica of this world. For some, it is under the earth, in groves, near or in the homes of earthly families, or on the other side of a deep river. In most cases, it is an extension of what is known at present, although for some people it is a much better place without pain or hunger. The Kenyan scholar John Mbiti writes that a belief in the continuation of life after death for African people “does not constitute a hope for a future and better life. To live here and now is the most important concern of African religious activities and beliefs. . . . Even life in the hereafter is conceived in materialistic and physical terms. There is neither paradise to be hoped for nor hell to be feared in the hereafter” (Mbiti 1969, pp. 4–5).

The African Concept of the Afterlife

Nearly all African people have a belief in a singular supreme being, the creator of the earth. Although the dead are believed to be somehow nearer to the supreme being than the living, the original state of bliss in the distant past expressed in creation myths is not restored in the afterlife. The separation between the supreme being and humankind remains unavoidable and natural in the place of the departed, even though the dead are able to rest there and be safe. Most African people believe that rewards and punishments come to people in this life and not in the hereafter. In the land of the departed, what happens there happens automatically, irrespective of a person’s earthly behavior, provided the correct burial rites have been observed. But if a person is a wizard, a murderer, a thief, one who has broken the community code or taboos, or one who has had an unnatural death or an improper burial, then such a person may be doomed to punishment in the afterlife as a wandering ghost and may be beaten and expelled by the ancestors or subjected to a period of torture according to the seriousness of their misdeeds, much like the Catholic concept of purgatory. Among many African peoples is the widespread belief that witches and sorcerers are not admitted to the spirit world, and therefore they are refused proper burial—sometimes their bodies are subjected to actions that would make such burial impossible such as burning, chopping up, and feeding them to hyenas. Among the Africans, to be cut off from the community of the ancestors in death is the nearest equivalent of hell.

The concept of reincarnation is found among many people. Reincarnation refers to the soul of a dead person being reborn in the body of another. There is a close relationship between birth and death. African beliefs in reincarnation differ from those of major Asian religions (especially Hinduism) in a number of important ways. Hinduism is “world-renouncing,” conceiving of a cycle of rebirth in a world of suffering and illusion from which people wish to escape—only by great effort—and there is a system of rewards and punishments whereby one is reborn into a higher or lower station in life (from whence the caste system arose). These ideas that view reincarnation as something to be feared and avoided are completely lacking in African religions. Instead, Africans are “world-affirming,” and welcome reincarnation. The world is a light, warm, and living place to which the dead are only too glad to return from the darkness and coldness of the grave. The dead return to their communities, except for those unfortunate ones previously mentioned, and there are no limits set to the number of possible reincarnations—an ancestor may be reincarnated in more than one person at a time. Some African myths say that the number of souls and bodies is limited. It is important for Africans to discover which ancestor is reborn in a child, for this is a reason for deep thankfulness. The destiny of a community is fulfilled through both successive and simultaneous multiple reincarnations.

Transmigration (also called metempsychosis) denotes the changing of a person into an animal. The most common form of this idea relates to a witch or sorcerer who is believed to be able to transform into an animal in order to perform evil deeds. Africans also believe that people may inhabit particular animals after death, especially snakes, which are treated with great respect. Some African rulers reappear as lions. Some people believe that the dead will reappear in the form of the totem animal of that ethnic group, and these totems are fearsome (such as lions, leopards, or crocodiles). They symbolize the terrible punishments the dead can inflict if the moral values of the community are not upheld.


In the village of Eshowe in the KwaZulu-Natal Province in South Africa, a Zulu Isangoma (diviner), with a puff adder in his mouth, practices soothsaying or predicting, with snakes. It is impossible to generalize about concepts in African religions because they are ethno-religions, being determined by each ethnic group in the continent.

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 Burial and Mourning Customs

Death in African religions is one of the last transitional stages of life requiring passage rites, and this too takes a long time to complete. The deceased must be “detached” from the living and make as smooth a transition to the next life as possible because the journey to the world of the dead has many interruptions. If the correct funeral rites are not observed, the deceased may come back to trouble the living relatives. Usually an animal is killed in ritual, although this also serves the practical purpose of providing food for the many guests. Personal belongings are often buried with the deceased to assist in the journey…. Various other rituals follow the funeral itself. Some kill an ox at the burial to accompany the deceased. Others kill another animal some time after the funeral (three months to two years and even longer is the period observed). The Nguni in southern Africa call the slaying of the ox “the returning ox,” because the beast accompanies the deceased back home to his or her family and enables the deceased to act as a protecting ancestor. The “home bringing” rite is a common African ceremony. Only when a deceased person’s surviving relatives have gone, and there is no one left to remember him or her, can the person be said to have really “died.” At that point the deceased passes into the “graveyard” of time, losing individuality and becoming one of the unknown multitude of immortals.

Many African burial rites begin with the sending away of the departed with a request that they do not bring trouble to the living, and they end with a plea for the strengthening of life on the earth and all that favours it. According to the Tanzanian theologian Laurenti Magesa, funeral rites simultaneously mourn for the dead and celebrate life in all its abundance. Funerals are a time for the community to be in solidarity and to regain its identity. In some communities, this may include dancing and merriment for all but the immediate family, thus limiting or even denying the destructive powers of death and providing the deceased with “light feet” for the journey to the other world.

Ancient customs are adapted in many South African urban funerals. When someone has died in a house, all the windows are smeared with ash, all pictures in the house turned around and all mirrors and televisions and any other reflective objects covered. The beds are removed from the deceased’s room, and the bereaved women sit on the floor, usually on a mattress. During the time preceding the funeral—usually from seven to thirteen days—visits are paid by the community to comfort the bereaved family. In the case of Christians, consolatory services are held at the bereaved home. The day before the funeral the corpse is brought home before sunset and placed in the bedroom. A night vigil then takes place, often lasting until the morning. The night vigil is a time for pastoral care, to comfort and encourage the bereaved. A ritual killing is sometimes made for the ancestors as it is believed that blood must be shed at this time to avoid further misfortune. Some people use the hide of the slaughtered beast to cover the corpse or place it on top of the coffin as a “blanket” for the deceased. Traditionally, the funeral takes place in the early morning (often before sunrise) and not late in the afternoon as it is believed that sorcerers move around in the afternoons looking for corpses to use for their evil purposes. Because sorcerers are asleep in the early morning, this is a good time to bury the dead.

In some communities children and unmarried adults are not allowed to attend the funeral. During the burial itself, the immediate family of the deceased is expected to stay together on one side of the grave at a designated place. They are forbidden from speaking or taking any vocal part in the funeral. It is customary to place the deceased’s personal property, including eating utensils, walking sticks, blankets, and other useful items, in the grave. After the funeral, the people are invited to the deceased’s home for the funeral meal. Many people follow a cleansing ritual at the gate of the house, where everyone must wash off the dust of the graveyard before entering the house. Sometimes pieces of cut aloe are placed in the water, and this water is believed to remove bad luck. Churches that use “holy water” sprinkle people to cleanse them from impurity at this time.

In southern Africa, the period of strict mourning usually continues for at least a week after the funeral. During this time the bereaved stay at home and do not socialize or have sexual contact. Some wear black clothes or black cloths fastened to their clothes, and shave their hair (including facial hair) from the day after the funeral. Because life is concentrated in the hair, shaving the hair symbolizes death, and its growing again indicates the strengthening of life. People in physical contact with a corpse are often regarded as unclean. The things belonging to the deceased should not be used at this time, such as the eating utensils or the chairs the deceased used. Blankets and anything else in contact with the deceased are all washed. The clothes of the deceased are wrapped up in a bundle and put away for a year or until the extended period of mourning has ended, after which they are distributed to family members or destroyed by burning. After a certain period of time, the house and the family must be cleansed from bad luck, from uncleanness and “darkness.” The bereaved family members are washed, and a ritual killing takes place. The time of the cleansing is usually seven days after the funeral, but some observe a month or even longer. Traditionally, a widow had to remain in mourning for a year after her husband’s death and the children of a deceased parent were in mourning for three months.

A practice that seems to be disappearing in African urban areas is the home-bringing ritual, although it is still observed in some parts of Africa. A month or two after the funeral, the grieving family, slaughters a beast and then goes to the graveyard. They speak to the ancestors to allow the deceased to return home to rest. It is believed that, at the graves, the spirits are hovering on the earth and are restless until they are brought home—an extremely dangerous situation for the family. The family members take some of the earth covering the grave and put it in a bottle. They proceed home with the assurance that the deceased relative is accompanying them to look after the family as an ancestor. Some Christian churches have a night vigil at the home of the deceased, after the home-bringing. The theologian Marthinus Daneel describes the ceremony in some Zimbabwean churches, where the living believers escort the spirit of the deceased relative to heaven through their prayers, after which a mediating role can be attained. The emphasis is on the transformation of the traditional rite while providing for the consolation of the bereaved family. This example shows how these churches try to eliminate an old practice without neglecting the traditionally conceived need that it has served.

These burial and mourning customs suggest that many practices still prevailing in African Christian funerals are vestiges of the ancestor cult, especially the ritual killings and the home-bringing rites. Because a funeral is preeminently a community affair in which the church is but one of many players, the church does not always determine the form of the funeral. Some of the indigenous rites have indeed been transformed and given Christian meanings, to which both Christians and those with traditional orientation can relate. Sometimes there are signs of confrontation and the changing and discontinuance of old customs to such an extent that they are no longer recognizable in that context.

African funerals are community affairs in which the whole community feels the grief of the bereaved and shares in it. The purpose of the activities preceding the funeral is to comfort, encourage, and heal those who are hurting. Thereafter, the churches see to it that the bereaved make the transition back to normal life as smoothly and as quickly as possible. This transition during the mourning period is sometimes accompanied by cleansing rituals by which the bereaved are assured of their acceptance and protection by God. Because the dominance of Christianity and Islam in Africa has resulted in the rejection of certain mourning customs, the funeral becomes an opportunity to declare faith.

“In the west, marriages are often the biggest life-cycle events. In Africa, it’s funerals by far,” said professor Michael Jindra, co-editor of “Funerals in Africa: Explorations of a Social Phenomenon.”

Jindra explains that such large events, designed to pay respect to the dead and honor one’s roots, also provide a kind of “social glue” for communities in many African societies: They are at the heart of social and cultural life, with status concerns, succession issues and family bonds also at stake.

Counting the costs of saying goodbye

The business of death

Yet, honoring those who’ve passed away can also exact an enormous financial toll on the already emotionally vulnerable relatives.

In South Africa, bereaved families often have to spend significant amounts to host lavish funerals and burial ceremonies. They are expected to host and feed extended relatives who visit from all over the country and can stay for weeks. Other costs include slaughtering a cow or a goat to honor the dead, renting hearse tents and arranging transportation to the burial ground for mourners.

“In many areas, a lot of people spend a lot of money on funerals. Sometimes, it’s out of choice for reasons of status, but other times, it’s simply out of the social pressure, and it is certainly putting burdens on people when they don’t have a lot of money,” said Jindra.

A 2009 report by economists Anne Case and Alicia Menendez found that the average price tag for an “honorable” funeral in South Africa between 2003 and 2005 was about 3,400 rand ($415), which is equivalent to 40% of the average annual household expenditure.  Read more: http://www.deathreference.com/A-Bi/African-Religions.html#ixzz2dBIpmftM


We Africans carry in our heritage the cradle of humanity. We carry the deep sorrows of slavery. We carry the suffering of AIDS leaving whole villages of only children.

We are living on the dark continent with yet so much light. In our African prayers. In our dances. In our stories. In our living. In our dying.

An African farmer used to sit in church for long periods of silence. When he was asked about this, he spoke of his God saying: “I look at him, and he looks at me and it is enough.”

Our prayers take many forms, especially when slavery took us to places far away from Africa. Jamaican reggae is one form. Christian gospels are another form. Yet they are still our prayers. African prayers.


Praise Ye Lord,
Peace be with us.

Say that the elders may have wisdom and speak with one voice.
Peace be with us.

Say that the country may have tranquillity.
Peace be with us.

And the people may continue to increase.
Peace be with us.

Say that the people and the flock and the herds
May prosper and be free from illness.
Peace be with us.

Say that the fields may bear much fruit
And the land may continue to be fertile.
Peace be with us.

May peace reign over earth,
May the gourd cup agree with vessel.
Peace be with us.

May their heads agree and every ill word be driven out
Into the wilderness, into the virgin forest.

– Kikuyu Peace Prayer –

http://www.godprayers.org/Kikuyu-Peace-Prayer.htm




Morning has risen;
God, take away from us every pain,
every ill, every mishap;
God, let us come safely home.

– Pygmy Women’s Prayer –
– The Prayers of African Religion. –
– London. S.P.C.K., Maryknoll. Orbis, 1975. –
– p.32. –


Praise Ye, Ngai … Peace be with us.

Say that the elders may have wisdom
and speak with one voice.
Peace be with us.

Say that the country may have tranquility.
Peace be with us.

And the people may continue to increase.
Peace be with us.

Say that the people and the flock and the herds
May prosper and be free from illness.
Peace be with us.

Say that the fields may bear much fruit
And the land may continue to be fertile.
Peace be with us.

May peace reign over earth,
May the gourd cup agree with the vessel.
Peace be with us.

May their heads agree and
every ill word be driven out
Into the wilderness, into the virgin forest.

Praise ye, Ngai … Peace be with us.

– Kikuyu, Kenya –


Wonderful one, you live
among the sheltering rocks.
You give rain to us people.

We pray to you,
hear us, O Strong One!
When we beg you, show your mercy.

You are in the highest places
with the spirits of the great ones.

You raise the grass-covered hills
above the earth,
and you make the rivers.
Gracious one!

– Rozwi, South Africa –

http://www.dailyom.com/library/000/000/000000461.html





Great is O King,
our happiness
in thy kingdom,
thou, our king.

We dance before thee,
our king,
by the strength
of thy kingdom.

May our feet
be made strong;
let us dance before thee,
eternal.

Give ye praise,
all angels,
to him above
who is worthy of praise.

– Zulu, South Africa –

http://www.dailyom.com/library/000/000/000000461.html


Lyrics to:                     Three Little Birds by Bob Marley

Dont worry about a thing,
cause every little thing gonna be all right.
Singin: dont worry about a thing,
cause every little thing gonna be all right!

Rise up this mornin,
Smiled with the risin sun,
Three little birds
Pitch by my doorstep
Singin sweet songs
Of melodies pure and true,
Sayin, this is my message
to you-ou-ou:

Thanks for the reminder, Felix!


Ope ni fun Olorun,
Gratitude to the Owner of the Realm of the Ancestors,
                                                               Iba Olodumare, Oba ajiki,
Homage to the Creator, the King who we praise first,

                                                                       Mo ji loni,
I awake today,

                                                               Mo wo’gun merin Aye,
I behold the four corners of the World,

Iba Elawori,
Homage to the Spirit of Purity,

Agbegi lere, la’fin ewu l’ado,
He who carves the cloth at Ado in the form of a sculpture,

Eiti Olodumare ko pa’jo iku e da,
The one whose date of death
has not been changed by the wind,

Omo Oluworiogbo,
Child of the Chief Priest who made
all the Heads that exist in Creation.

Iba’se ila Oorun,
Homage to the power of East,

Iba’se iwo Oorun,
Homage to the power of the West,

Iba’se Ariwa,
Homage to the power of the North,

Iba’se Guusu,
Homage to the power of the South,

Iba Oba Igbalaye,
Homage to the King of the Seasons of the Earth,

Iba Orun Oke,
Homage to the Invisible Realm of the Mountains,

Iba Atiwo Orun,
Homage to all things that live in the Invisible Realm,

……….

Iba Okiti biri, Oba ti np’ojo iku da,
Homage to the Averter of the final days,
The King who could change the time of Death,

Iba ate-ika eni Olodumare,
Homage to the mat that cannot be rolled up once laid out,

Iba Odemu demu kete a lenu ma fohun,
Homage to the power that extracts Goodness
from the Realm of the Invisible,

Iba’se awon Iku emese Orun,
Homage to the dead, the messengers of the Invisible Realm.

………..

– Iba’se, Parts of the Ifa Prayer of Praise, West Africa –


http://www.ijfm.org/PDFs_IJFM/02_3_PDFs/2_3%20Brown%20african%20funeral%20ceremony%20fixed2.pdfhttp://www.thefuneralsource.org/hi01.html#

http://www.deathreference.com/A-Bi/African-Religions.html

APA:
Bizarre rituals know of any? – Page 13 – David Icke’s … (n.d.). Retrieved from http://www.davidicke.com/forum/showthread.php?p=1059082053

Christian prayers for the dying



All religions have prayers for the dying. There is so much common ground between the different religions and their prayers. I will post different religions prayers for their dying.

Kahlil Gibran – 1883-1931 writes…If you would indeed behold the spirit of death, open your heart wide unto the body of life. For life and death are one, even as the river and the sea are one.

Christians believe in the redeeming power of love.

Christians are encouraged to be childlike in their faith; to pray for forgiveness regardless of how far they had strayed.

Christians believe in the resurrection of the body. One week before her death Vic requested that she be served Holy Communion. I believe that Vic was comforted by the words of John 6:54 that reads “Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise them up at the last day.”  Vic truly believed in the words of Paul in Romans 1:16b, “because it is the power of God that brings salvation to everyone who believes…

Here are some examples of Christian Prayers that can be prayed with the dying:-

“Oh Righteous Father, we know our days are numbered in your book of life and that precious in your sight are the death of your saints. We are so thankful that we can stand on your promises and know that when we die, we are instantly in your holy presence. All of those who have gone before us, beloved friends and family, are there waiting for us. We know that death cannot hold us because just as Jesus died and was resurrected, we too know that we also will be raised to eternal life. There is such peace in knowing that there will be no more tears, no more sorrow, and no more pain. What great and precious promises you have given us. We know that nothing can ever separate us from your love. No one or nothing can snatch us out of Your mighty hands. Blessed Lord, please be with [name] in this time and with his/her family; to comfort, strengthen, and encourage them during the coming difficult days and times ahead. We pray that Your tender mercies be upon [name] now. I thank God for [name] and the faithfulness that he/she has shown in their life. [name] has placed his/her trust and faith in You and we know that you will never leave [name] nor forsake him/her. We thank you for your precious gift of salvation which came through the precious the blood of the Lamb of God at supreme cost. Our atonement was made possible by Him and has made us one with You. We ask these things in the power, majesty, glorious, and most holy name of our Saviour, King, Master, and Lord, Jesus Christ. Amen.

Read more: http://www.whatchristianswanttoknow.com/how-to-pray-with-the-dying-5-helpful-tips/#ixzz2i6njL0rW


Saying “Thank you” and “Good-bye” – Helen Meier, Hope Hospice, Dublin, CA

________(person’s name) thank you for all you have given me, your family, friends, and the world. You have impacted my life with your love, your caring and your wisdom. Now that you are gone, I will carry all your love and everything I learned from you within me. The essence of who you were as a person will live within me and within others. You will continue to give to the world as we pass on to others what we learned from you. I will miss you, but will have joy in remembering all you meant to me. Each thing you touched will bring you to mind. Your laugh, your smile, your words will resound in my mind and heart. Good-bye dear one.

John 14:1-3

Let not your hearts be troubled: believe in God, believe also in me. In my Father’s house are many rooms; if it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? I will come again and will take you to myself, that where I am you may be also.

The Lord is my shepherd;
I have everything I need.
He lets me rest in green meadows;
he leads me beside peaceful streams.

He renews my strength.
He guides me along right paths,
bringing honor to his name.

Even when I walk
through the dark valley of death,
I will not be afraid,
for you are close beside me.

Your rod and your staff protect and comfort me.
You prepare a feast for me
in the presence of my enemies.

You welcome me as a guest,
anointing my head with oil.
My cup overflows with blessings.

Surely your goodness and unfailing love
will pursue me all the days of my life,
and I will live in the house of the Lord forever. Amen

– The Bible, Psalm 23 –

Benedict,
when the storm rages
around me,
and I can hold on no more,
when the waves of fear engulf me
and I am weary,
battered and sore,
take me then and steer me,
storm-tossed, broken and afraid,
into the arms of your safe harbor
safely home.
Amen

– Prayer to St. Benedict –
– Friar Dennis Ward O.S.B. –

http://www.facebook.com/group.php?gid=2342444733

Our Father who art in heaven,
hallowed be thy name;
thy kingdom come;
thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.

Give us this day our daily bread,
and forgive us our trespasses,
as we forgive those who trespass against us.

And lead us not into temptation;
but deliver us from evil.

For thine is the kingdom,
the power and the glory,
for ever and ever.
Amen

– Lord’s Prayer, traditional –

Lord, make me an instrument of Thy peace;
where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
and where there is sadness, joy.

O Divine Master,
grant that I may not so much seek
to be consoled as to console;
to be understood, as to understand;
to be loved, as to love;
for it is in giving that we receive,
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
and it is in dying that
we are born to Eternal Life.
Amen.

– Peace Prayer of St Francis –

Unto God’s gracious mercy
and protection we commit you.
May the Lord bless you and keep you;
may the Lord make his face to shine upon you
and give you peace evermore.
Amen

– The Bible, Chapter 6, Verses 24-26 –

To every thing there is a season,
and a time to every purpose under the heaven:
A time to be born, and a time to die;
A time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;
A time to kill, and a time to heal;
A time to break down, and a time to build up;
A time to weep, and a time to laugh;
A time to mourn, and a time to dance.

– The Bible, Ecclesiastes 3, Verses 1-4 –

Blessed are the poor in spirit:
for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Blessed are they that mourn:
for they shall be comforted.

Blessed are the meek:
for they shall inherit the earth.

Blessed are they which do hunger
and thirst after righteousness:
for they shall be filled.

Blessed are the merciful:
for they shall obtain mercy.

Blessed are the pure in heart:
for they shall see God.

Blessed are the peacemakers:
for they shall be called the children of God.

Blessed are they which are persecuted for righteousness’ sake:
for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

– The Sermon on the Mountain, Matthew 5:3-10 –

Watch thou, dear Lord,
with those who wake,
or watch, or weep tonight,
and give thine angels charge
over those who sleep.

Tend thy sick ones, Lord Christ.
Rest thy weary ones.
Bless thy dying ones.
Soothe thy suffering ones.
Pity thine afflicted ones.
Shield thy joyous ones.
And all, for thy love’s sake.
Amen.

– Saint Augustine’s Evening Prayer –


Credit: http://www.whatchristianswanttoknow.com/how-to-pray-with-the-dying-5-helpful-tips/

http://www.beliefnet.com/Prayers/Protestant/Death/Prayer-For-Someone-Who-Is-Dying.aspx

http://www.sofriendsofhospice.org/spiritual/words.shtml