By James
There was a time when funerals in Kenya were sacred — moments of silence, sobs, and solemn reflection. Villages gathered not to shout slogans but to console the bereaved, to honour the dead, and to celebrate a life lived. That time, sadly, is fading fast.
Today, funerals have become political arenas — loud, chaotic, and sometimes criminal. The dignity of the deceased is being stolen in broad daylight by crowds that come not to mourn, but to perform. Across Homa Bay and Siaya counties, funerals are increasingly turning into theatres of disruption, theft, and disorder.
The rise of hired mourners has made the situation worse. Politicians, eager to project influence, now bus in groups of rowdy supporters to funerals. Their mission is not to grieve, but to clap, cheer, and chant. In their wake, confusion reigns. Purses are snatched, phones vanish, and heartfelt eulogies are drowned in noise.
The recent chaos in Siaya County illustrates this moral decay vividly. Just hours after the burial of former Prime Minister Raila Amolo Odinga, his gravesite in Bondo was defiled by unknown individuals. The wreaths laid earlier that day were destroyed and scattered, leaving a scene of desecration rather than remembrance. To worsen the shame, during the burial itself, a firearm belonging to a governor’s security aide was grabbed in the confusion — and remains missing. What was meant to be a moment of national mourning turned into a display of disorder and disgrace.
A similar trend has been reported in Homa Bay, where politicians have complained of being robbed as mourners turn rowdy during speeches. For many genuine mourners, the line between grief and fear is now dangerously thin. Funerals — once spaces of comfort — have become places of chaos.
This degeneration is not just about bad manners; it is a moral crisis. A burial is not a political rally. A grave is not a podium. When leaders import rowdiness into moments of sorrow, they erode the cultural foundation that holds our communities together. The dead cannot defend themselves — and the least we owe them is respect.
County governments, security agencies, and the clergy must now act jointly to restore order at funerals. Major burials, especially those involving national or county figures, should have structured crowd management, controlled access, and a code of conduct that preserves dignity. Religious leaders must also reclaim their space — reminding mourners that the final journey of a soul is sacred, not a spectacle.
Communities, too, must resist this growing culture of hired grief. The tears of a people must remain genuine — not rehearsed, not purchased, and never manipulated for applause.
As an elder in Asembo remarked in sorrow, “When we turn tears into currency, we offend both the living and the dead. The graveyard must never be a marketplace.”
Let us restore dignity to our funerals. Let the dead rest in peace — and let the living mourn with honour.
