A Nigerian woman who dresses dead bodies up has spoken up about the hazards of the job and what her family thinks about it.
Mrs. Bolanle Okusanya-Feyita
Mrs. Bolanle Okusanya-Feyita, the eldest child of the late founder of
MIC Funeral Services, Mr. Tunji Okusanya, in this interview with The
Punch, talks about her growing up, education and some misconceptions
people have about working with the ‘dead’
Children are known to dread the sight of caskets, corpses and
other things related to funerals. You grew up to meet these things
around you, what was it like?
Yes, we grew up to meet those things, and that is why for me, I haven’t
known anything different from this kind of work. There has never been a
time to fear because that is all we have always known from as early as I
could remember. Then, even at that young age, we would go to my dad’s
work place, and be playing around caskets. And you know children enjoy
doing hide and seek. So, for my (late) brother and I, we would go and
hide inside one of the caskets in the office, because we believed that
was the last place for anybody to check while looking for us. We did it
when we didn’t want anybody to send us on an errand and we did it for
ourselves when playing. There was nothing scary about caskets and my dad
didn’t care seeing us play like that. He believed that anything that
can’t speak has no power over you. So, if somebody has died, he believed
the person was gone. We saw it like that as well, so, there was no
reason to fear.
It appeared your grandfather started the business, and now after your
dad, you also went into it. Was it by choice or he encouraged you to
continue?
My grandfather started it in 1946, before my dad was born in 1955. He
was a carpenter and later went into making caskets, which he did very
well. His company then was Magbamowo Industrial Company. I was told that
when my dad came back from the United Kingdom, he started working with
his father. Later, my dad set up his own company on the same street and
named it MIC, which is an acronym of his dad’s company’s name, but my
dad added some glamour, structure, coordination and finesse into it. I’m
proud of the heritage I have and he would always say that it was the
same money from selling caskets (owo posi in Yoruba) that he used to
send us to school. I worked for my dad for about 20 years, starting from
when I was about 16, while my younger brother started when he was
around 12. But because I lived in the UK, some people didn’t realise the
extent of my work for my dad. Nigerians are all over the world and if
they die and are to be brought back to Nigeria, there is a diplomatic
process to that. That was my work, coupled with the fact that I was a
make-up artist. But when they died, I had to come back.
Knowing that children can be mischievous, when you were young, like in primary school, did your friends make jest of you?
At that time, we didn’t have full understanding of everything that the
work entailed. All that mattered then was that our parents worked.
Besides, we were not brought up to talk about our home. In secondary
school, we rarely talked about it and if there was need to, we could say
he was a funeral director, and even with that, people would think it
was about the glamour around it, not knowing he carried dead bodies and
dressed them. But it wasn’t really something I talked about a lot. So,
that helped.
You attended Ivy League schools in the UK, have you always known that you would still go back to the funeral business?
When I was to have my first degree, I just knew I had to go to the
university, not that I had a concrete plan on what to do. I went to
Imperial College London where I did International Business and I had
second class upper division. Then I went to Westminster Business School
in University of Westminster for my Master’s in Marketing Communication.
When I was younger, I wanted to be a lawyer and I used to tell my
maternal grandmother. When I got to England, I did some law courses in
the short run and I found that Law wasn’t for me, because you have to
write so much. That was unlike me. I didn’t like writing. So I wrote a
letter to my grandmother that I wasn’t going to be a lawyer anymore. She
was sad and couldn’t believe it, and she wrote back. I changed the
course anyway, and I found International Business interesting. It’s
diverse and it has wide applications. When I graduated, I worked for
different companies in the UK, whilst doing my make-up business. For me,
the whole essence of going to school was to learn how to think and do
things better.
Did you leave the UK for Nigeria mainly because of your dad’s death?
When my dad and my brother died in that plane crash, I had to travel as
soon as I could make it. That day, I saw on Sky News as breaking news
that there was a plane crash in Nigeria, but I didn’t know they were
inside. I felt pity for the family of those involved, not knowing it had
a lot to do with me. At that time, nobody had called because it had
just happened. It was quite cloudy, so I had to come with the next
flight. At that time, remember that it was a sudden incident, there were
bookings and different jobs ongoing, so I had to run MIC for a while
before I took a break. Before they died, my brother and I had a lot of
things in progress, so it was like I lost a part of me. My dad died
couple of weeks to his 60th birthday and he was always saying he was
getting older, so my brother and I were working towards doing something
different. When they died, I wanted something in their memory and that
was why I set up LTJ Funerals. Given the circumstances in which they
died, I thought it should be something that would testify that beauty
can come out of ashes. That, for me, is a very personal scripture. My
brother used to have a company called LTJ (short for Olatunji)
Prestigious Services, which involved cemetery consultations and
properties. So I thought of using his name.
Did your dad talk about his death?
Incidentally, he spoke a lot about death before he died. He asked me
about two weeks to the incident if I wouldn’t move to Lagos when he died
and I remember telling him that ‘This your dying all the time’ because
he used to say ‘when I die’. He died in October, but in July, he sent me
some beautiful pictures of himself that he had edited. He was excited
about the pictures and he kept calling to ask if I had seen them. I told
him the pictures were very nice and they looked like obituary pictures
and I asked if he thought he would die soon, but we laughed about it.
But that was what we used for him. I even told him it wouldn’t be
convenient for me if he died at that time, so he shouldn’t die yet. We
laughed about it. But it happened a few months after. The night before
the day he died, I still spoke to him and he was giving me instructions
on the different caskets he wanted us to buy. In the morning of that
same day, my brother also sent me some pictures of an award that he got
the previous day and I felt it was too early in the day. I planned to
call him to congratulate him later in the day, but that didn’t happen. I
wouldn’t say we had premonition of it but by the virtue of the work we
do, we all know that everybody will die someday. These days, it is
important for people to discuss with their children or dependants how
they want to be buried. It prevents conflicts and unnecessary drama.
That is the way go, but people think if you have such discussion you are
ready to die. It’s not like that.
Not all men would embrace the idea of seeing their wives dealing with the dead. Did you meet your husband in the line of duty?
No. One of my friends, Tara Durotoye, introduced us. That was in 2004.
We were both make-up artists and we had been friends not very long when
she said to me that there was a guy she wanted me to meet. Then, I used
to shuttle between Nigeria and the UK. When I was in Nigeria, people
would think I had a relationship in the UK and when in the UK, people
would think I had someone I was dating in Nigeria, whereas I didn’t have
anyone. For the fact that she was one of my new friends, I didn’t want
it to look that I was proud. So I told her to give my number to the
person. I just wanted to be polite. The ‘guy’ called me and here we are
today. From when we met, he said he wanted to get married and I told him
to come off it, because we had barely known each other. He said he was
sure he wanted to get married. I said we should court first. Thus, we
got married in 2007. It could have been earlier but we ended up in 2007.
Did he know the kind of job you were into?
No, he didn’t. The first time he knew, he was horrified; shocked. He
couldn’t believe it, thinking it was a joke. But I told him that was
what my dad was into. He was shocked but after a while, he got used to
it. It was more so because he had not lost anyone close to him or had a
close contact with funerals. And people used to tell him, ‘how can you
marry that man’s daughter? Do you know what the man does? Do you know
that the man has secret powers, etc. But he got used to it after a while
and he became very close to my parents.
Are your children also comfortable with your work?
They see pictures of caskets on my phone all the time. Sometimes, they go with me to events, but they don’t see corpses.
Some people feel it is difficult to do this kind of work without having some spiritual reinforcement. Is that true?
My dad was a Christian; nothing added. All he knew to do was to fast and
pray, and he was a member of the choir since when he was six. God is
all we have. I think of this work like a calling, in the sense that the
underlying thing of what we do is to help people at a very difficult
time. The truth is, everybody is going to die. Our relationship does not
end with people because they are dead. There is still a duty of care.
At the end of the day, somebody has to do it, so why can’t we do it with
a lot of excellence and compassion? There is nothing about death,
corpses and caskets that is scary.
Does it mean you have never experienced any of the conjectures
or experiences where the vehicle conveying a corpse would refuse to move
until something was done?
That hasn’t happened to me, but my dad had experienced it before. I
wasn’t there, so I wasn’t privy to it, but I heard about it. I’m a born
again Christian and that makes a lot of difference. In the foreseeable
future, this (funeral service) is what I’ve been called to do. And that
is what I want to do. Interestingly, it is not even about the money. The
crux of the work is serving people, supporting and helping people.
How has this job impacted your views about life?
Hold nothing tight; everything should be loose in your hands because we
are all going to die, just that we don’t know when, unless Jesus comes.
There is really nothing that you shouldn’t be able to let go of. People
should learn to stay away from anything that could rob them of their
peace because once you are dead, that is the end. Everybody looks the
same when they are dead, no matter how good looking you were. There is
no casket that is the size of a house, so everybody will still be
lowered down there. That is why I said it is more of rendering service.
You work mostly on weekends, how do you find time to relax and spend time with your family?
My social life has changed a lot. I can’t even go to all the places I’m
invited, so I just trust that my friends and family understand. Any
weekend that I’m free, I love to stay with my family and that is
exciting. I love to cook. I don’t have as much time as I would have
liked to but I still cook. My family is priority. Regardless of how busy
I am, I make time for my family. In the schedule of things, God first,
then my family and everything else.
***
Culled from The Punch
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