The Drowning

IMG_1200, originally uploaded by Benjamin Long.

Not long after we arrived at Swapooisdrift a man disappeared in the river. They did not know if he drowned or taken by crocodiles because the body was still missing. The headman of the village came to our camp just before sunset to ask if we could give him a ride into the bush to inform the missing man's family. Jacob, the head missionary of the trip, agreed to take the headman and a few others. I quickly jumped on the back of the truck as well. It would soon be dark and I did not know where we were going or what even happened to the man, but I tagged along anyway. We drove about thirty minutes on a small trail parallel to the river. We finally came to a single mud hut hidden amongst bushes and rocks. The headman went inside to inform what I thought was the family. It turns out that it was just a friend but he joined our party in the back of the truck. We then took another small road away from the river over a mountain. By this time, it was pitch black outside with stars beginning to dot the night sky. We travelled for what seems like ages over mountains and through dried up river beds where we luckily didn't get stuck. We finally arrive at a sodalite mining camp where the family lived. (Sodalite is a semi-precious blue stone used for tiling)
During the trek into the bush, I seemed to lose sight of the purpose of our venture into the bush. The family came outside to greet their headman. He informed them of the bad news and the emotional outcry was immense. Many people broke down in tears immediately and some screaming in agony. I did not know what I should do or if I was even supposed to be there. I just stood very close to Jacob hoping not bring any attention to myself. The family was traditional Himba covered in red ochre and barely clad with animal hides. The family climbed into the back of the truck and we were off. The truck was now very full with half of the people being traditional Himba. The ride back was filled with emotional tension and again I did not know what to do or if I was even supposed to be there.
That night reminded me of a similar experience in Tanzania. One night, I was eating dinner with my friend, Faraja, when he was summoned to take a man to the local laboni (witchdoctor). Faraja was the most well-known driver in the village so they came to him for transport. An elder was deathly ill and he did not believe in modern medicine. Everyone crammed into the back of Faraja's truck and we were off to the laiboni about 20km in the bush. After dropping the man off at the laboni, we quickly left not knowing the fate of the sick man. I never found out.
The following morning back in Kaokoland, we held the community meeting on the bank of the river as planned. There was a single boat searching for the body of the missing man throughout the day. As soon as they meeting was over, as if it were planned, the men in the boat began screaming to inform everyone they had found the body. Everyone quickly gathered on the bank awaiting the boat and the body. I, again, did not know what to do or where my place was. A local man grabbed me by the arm and told me to come. He took me by his side and we joined the masses by the riverbank. When the pulled the body from the water, there was mass hysteria. Many women had to be carried away from the water by fellow onlookers, but most stayed by the body to await the arrival of the local police. I was still fuzzy on the details of what happened to the man. The local man that told me to accompany him filled me in with the details. It turns out that the man was mentally handicapped. Many people would tell him to fetch them water, in a sense, taking advantage of him because of his mental state. The man did this quite often but this time he was drunk, fell into the river and drowned.
Death is part of everyday life throughout Africa. The Himba have a very different approach in dealing with death. The actual burial takes place only for one day but aftermath takes weeks and sometimes a month. There is no living will on record for the deceased. The local people will not work or carry out their daily routines in order to discuss what will happen to the belongings of the deceased. Like anything in Africa, the people are not in a hurry and there is no urgency or timeline to these talks. Between AIDS, TB, crocodiles, drowning, starvation, snakes, numerous other lethal diseases and unknown dangers, death is a part of everyday life. Because of this, almost 50% of their life is consumed with death in one form or another. It has got to be terribly depressing.