My name is Ruth Tetteh. My aunt (my mom’s older sister) was laid to rest just three days ago, but I’m still in utter disbelief over how her funeral was spoiled by bad choices, greed, and mismanagement. What should’ve been a time to mourn and celebrate her life has become a memory that stings every time I think of it.
My aunt was the kind of person who loved everybody. She was generous to her family, her friends, and even strangers. I saw her kindness many times with my own eyes. She truly was a saint. So when we heard she had passed, our hearts broke. But amid our grief, I also saw people treating her death like a business opportunity to line their own pockets.
From the beginning of the funeral planning, I witnessed things I never thought I’d see from people I call family. Friends and colleagues of my aunt sent donations, money, things to help with tents, food, everyone pitching in because they loved her and wanted to give back. But the family rejected almost all of it.
Those gestures were brushed aside, dismissed. It felt as though the family preferred to carry the burden themselves, even though many of those who offered help had been helped by her in the past. Then came the GH¢30,000 donation.
Truly, that amount alone should have secured a dignified farewell for my aunt. Instead, once again, the same family returned to my mother asking for more money. They insisted she take out a LOAN despite the deposit sitting untouched.
My aunt didn't have children, so my mom, her nearest relative, had to bear all the costs. But my mom’s business had been struggling for some time. She didn’t have the means to cover more. The pressure broke her heart, because she couldn’t give her sister the farewell she truly deserved.
Sometimes I feel like a child asking too many questions, but I need to understand: who rejected the help from the aunt’s friends? Who decided that these donations were not good enough? Why did my mother have to carry burdens that others ignored? Where did the money go?
Because from what I observed, the funds were left unused, or used for things not agreed upon in the funeral plan, while we looked on powerless. This has made me question character more than I ever thought possible. Instead of showing gratitude, there was exclusion.
Instead of unity, there was division. Instead of honouring my aunt’s memory, there was profiteering off grief.
I share this not for pity, but to let someone else know: if you are going through something like this, you are not alone. Funerals should bring families together, respecting the dead, supporting each other, not tearing each other apart or putting one person in debt.