Village Funeral

A knock on my door startled me out of a deep, dreamless sleep. “Master?” came a low voice. I opened the door and it was one of the village men whom I’d worked along side at the project site. He informed me that there would be no work today because someone had died last night.

The funeral was held in the afternoon. Men and women, elders and children alike all gathered to pay their respects to the deceased man. Men played the drums and chanted while people danced, talked, or sat in silence. I was invited not only to see the body in the casket, but to take a picture of it. I took one out of respect for the invitation; I didn’t feel I had any business photographing the body in the open casket. It’s humbling to be included in absolutely everything here… Once again it strikes me how much these people want to share their traditions and lifestyle. When I first came to Accra I felt that this trip was blessed. Now I know and am deeply humbled by what I am experiencing here in Masi Tsati.


About Margit Boyesen

Teacher. Photographer. Traveler.

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