Though I’m
not in Malawi as a clinician I get a peak, every now and then, of local
hospital life. The compound is formed of too main buildings and a few smaller
ones. Often in the morning one can hear loud, desperate crying that echoes from shelter
that was built close to the hospital as a house of grief. Far too often a corpse is rushed
there on a gernie followed my crying women. Their mourning is
loud and by no means reserved. Sometimes I wonder, if they want to show their
sorrow properly there and then so that they can move on with their lives as soon
as possible. After a while the gathering accompanies the deceased for the last
journey. Nearly always they’re ladies. Men are there mainly as drivers or play
otherwise minor part.
Back home
grief is often silent and somehow shameful as if emotions are to be hidden. To
be strong in times of sorrow has become almost a standard.
When the
former North-Korean leader died news footage showed crowds of people loudly
crying after him on the streets. My heart broke as I saw them. Was it genuine
or done because of fear?
I’d like to
learn from Malawians on this. Cry with those who are in grief. Men included.
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