'So you say Bigboy and his enlightened wife are not attending their grandfather's funeral? They have written a letter saying they can't afford the bus fares to just come and bury a 'useless' old man? Bigboy will not bury my father?'� headman Chikudo shook his head again and again. As he talked he was seated in the middle of circle of village elders who had come to assist him in burying his dead father. The headman's father had died two days ago of old age. A message had been sent to the city to inform Bigboy, the headman's eldest son of the sad news. They had delayed burial of the old man as they awaited the arrival of the eldest grandchild. Instead the later wrote a letter explaining his difficult situation.
Silence gripped the entire atmosphere surrounding the dare. The only voices that could be heard were of village women who were singing both traditional and religious songs in the hut where the dead man's body lay in state. At that time the sun was throwing its somehow weak crimson rays as it seemingly sadly rode on the western horizon of Nhare village of the Korekore people. All men were seated at the dare discussing the programme of the funeral proceedings whilst women busied on preparing supper for that day.
'Father, can I continue reading the letter?'� asked Simba the youngest son of headman Chikudo. The young man was of school going age.
Headman Chikudo shook his head with anger. What Bigboy had done had belittled him in front of his subjects.
' No, no please don't. I no longer what to hear anymore of the smelly rubbish he has written. Just throw the filthy letter into the fire. If my oldest son can't bury my father, the very man who made it possible for him to also see the world, what guarantee is there that he will also attend my funeral? The cost of living is never going down. The prices of all things will keep on rising as we live into the future, and it is in the future where our graves lie. So who is going to bury us?'� he paused for a while as made a sweeping glance at everybody as if campaigning for support, then continued 'Just throw that letter away so that we can talk about burial arrangements,'� said the disappointed headman as waved his hands.
Bu bu bu, came the sound of clapping hands from one of the village elders.
'May I be allowed to say just a single word before you all respected gentlemen', bu bu bu, he clapped again.
'Go ahead Chiboiwa, you are free to say what you think or feel about this issue'� Headman nodded him to talk.
'Thank you Mukanya, thank you very much,' old Chiboiwa puffed at his pipe before he continued, 'Look, headman, did our elders not say that a big snake does not bite itself? Don't forget that anger does not build your home. Bigboy is one of us. Not even the strongest soap can wash clean that blood relation. He is not here to talk to us. The letter is his mouth, so lets give him a chance to talk. Are you not the one who used to boast in the entire village about sending the boy to most prestigious schools on the land? Now lets hear what the learned one has written.'� Bu bu bu, clapped the old man as he released a cloud of white smoke through the noses and mouth. His eyes were half closed.
There was a general murmuring among the elders as most of them nodded their heads in unison. Bigboy used to be Headman Chikudo's greatest source of pride during his school days. The young man was really bright so much that his father sacrificed some of his best beasts to enable him to attend the best schools in the country. At beer drinking parties, he would never miss an opportunity to refer to his son. Many elders were not very much pleased with that. Most of them were then looking forward to seeing how a learned son would connect and mingle with unschooled, primitive and conservative fellow villagers in future.
'Read the letter young man, but please move a bit slowly as some of us now have hearing problems. Our ears have heard lots of things both good and bad. Now the hearing organs are gradually getting worn out'� Said another old man as he poked the fire.
A spate of laughter broke from the circle of elders. Laughter mechanically and naturally loosens tight bolts in life. The atmosphere around the place somehow got a bit relaxed.
Simba hesitantly unfolded the letter, stole a quick glance at his father then started reading. He took heed of that old man's request. He read slowly with his breaking teenage voice.

Dear Father

It was with absolute shock that I learnt the untimely death of grandfather. I loved him so much. I could not help recall those old days when he used recite epic poems and tell stories of our tribe. He was such a wise old man who really was a true embodiment of our culture and beliefs. I personally feel very much at a loss. Who will tell us about those traditional herbs that cure assortments of ailments? Who will lead our people at such traditional ceremonies as beating the grave and praying for rains? Poor grandfather, I wish God would put his innocent soul to some eternal rest.

Now, father, forgive for having done it this way. I very much know I was by every right supposed to have been there to share with you and everybody else the grief that has befallen our family. Unfortunately my wife and I cannot make it to the village, not in the next three weeks. Our budget is so tightly packed that it has not allowed us to save even a single cent. The bus fares are just too high. Our cars have no fuel. In fact there is a serious fuel crisis in the city. We have however thought it wise to send the little cash that we could have used for bus fare, to help you out with one or two expenses. When the pressure has slightly eased, we will come and see where you would have buried grandfather. Life in the city is now a pain father.

Once again, I wish grandfather a peaceful rest.

Your true son

Bigboy


There was a bit of silence after the letter had been read. Simba coughed slightly, looked at his father as if expecting a comment. He caressed his noses and then folded the letter. It was Old Chiboiwa who then broke the silence.
'You see, our son has not forgotten us. He has conveyed his condolences. What more could he have done? If he does not have the money for bus fare should he steal? How would you feel to hear that Bigboy has been arrested because he was caught stealing?' he said looking at headman. ' That would be embarrassing to the whole tribe. You see, this world we are living in has somehow changed. Isn't it so gentleman?'� he turned his head to face all the other elders
Some of them nodded, but others kept quite. Bigboy's world and theirs were worlds apart. To most of them, the boundaries of the Nhare village marked the boundaries of their world. They never had the slightest idea of what was happening in Harare or Bulawayo. New laws and policies that affected their lives somehow diffused into their land. Nobody really formally addressed them on such pertinent issues. The only time they had something like a formal address was when they attended campaign rallies by councilors and such other figures who came begging for their support.
'I will not have any of that nonsense. Bigboy did not act responsibly. He now talks like a politician who sweet-talks you into submission with lots of lies and empty promises. I know that he has the money. How can a bank manager go broke? He should at least have shown that he is a child who came from real people. Truly, today's city life has corrupted my son. When mine own grandfather, my father's father died, four decades ago, I was at Wenela in South Africa. I had no penny on me when the word of his death reached my ear, but I borrowed from friends and traveled back home to pay my last respects. You, Chiboiwa, you were once a man of God, does the good book not say respect your parents for your days to be increased on earth? Since when has death been an item on people's budgets?'� headman Chikudo was really upset.
'Let me tell you one thing all of you gentleman,' said old Chiboiwa, ' It is of course our longing and wish that we be together with our kinsmen every time we gather like this, but life in the city does not give them that kind of flexibility. I believe I am one of gifted few in whole village who managed to travel broadly due to the church business. These eyes of mine saw a lot of things. People in towns are crying. Some of them really want to come back home, but they can't afford the transport charges to fury their property. If the vision I have for this land is not misleading, we are going to receive many of these condolence messages via the mail. It will not only come from towns, but from the rural areas as well. Also bear in mind that there are cemeteries in the city. How many of us here have ever attended a burial in the city? How many?'� repeated old Chiboiwa as he sailed his eyes this way and that.
'We don't have the money. The amount of money you pay for bus fare is like paying lobola for a virgin girl. Where do we get that kind of money? Ha ha ha we are poor'� another elder answered laughing.
'Right, the same way that money is a problem to us, it is also how tough guys in the city find life. There are enough of us to give the old man an honorable goodbye,'� said old Chiboiwa as he started puffing at his pipe again.
'We may talk on and on, but my heart still feels heavy. Something really big seems to have sat in my chest. Some distant voice tells me Bigboy should have been here. He should have been playing the drums with the other boys. He should have been here to witness the respectable way to bury elders of our tribe. Very few have respectable burials in the city. The funeral service companies are in business. They just dump your dead and rush to the next. The more they bury in a day the more money they make. I wanted my own son, my eldest son to see how I bury my own father so that he would do the same to me when I die,' headman Chikudo kept quite for a while then added after a deep sigh, ' Anyway, it no longer pays to keep on crying over spilt milk. Tomorrow I will bury my father. A least no economics of the present world has thrown our worlds apart'� he concluded and then zipped his mouth.
'I know, I know, it is every parent's wish, but these days it seems like once out of our womb, out of our world.'� Said Old Chiboiwa as he passed a washing bowel to the headman. Supper had been served. They all started eating in silence. The silence seemed to observe the death of a big man. It also seemed to suggest the dearth of the original ties that kept the Korekore people together for centuries. When a funeral drum sounded, nobody would go to the fields or go about their private business. All elders from any walking distance would make sure they attended the funeral save for the sick and crippled. That kind of unity kept the people together. During that time people never used to talk about love, instead they showed real love.
'Yes, tomorrow we will bury our old man. We will definitely give him a respectable burial'� again added old Chiboiwa as be busied on gnawing a piece of bone. The other elders nodded their heads in unison.

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