To be buried in a syringe, a crab – or a Coca-Cola bottle: coffins larger than life
Figurative coffins in the shape of objects, vehicles, and animals that reflect the interests of the deceased are a long-standing tradition in Ghana: a farmer is buried in a rooster, a captain in a plane, a banker in money bills — and a footballer in a shoe. For fans of flavors and technology, there are also coffins in the shape of ice cream, beer bottles — and a Nokia mobile phone.
Frederick Tetteh Ofori spent a significant part of his life with a guitar in his hands, so when the Ghanaian musician was killed in a car accident, his family decided that the musical instrument must accompany him on his final journey: his coffin was built in the shape of a giant guitar. At the funeral held on Saturday on the outskirts of Accra, the capital of Ghana, the coffin stood out among the bright red flowers, the portrait of 40-year-old Ofori, and the mourners who gathered under shade sheets to protect themselves from the sun.
To an outside observer, this sight might seem strange, but in Ghana, and especially among the Ga communities around the capital, "figurative" or "fantastic" coffins are a common way to celebrate the life of the deceased and hold a farewell that is both spectacular and intimate. For example, fishermen are buried in coffins designed as giant fish or canoes, farmers are laid to rest in cocoa pods, drivers are brought to rest in car models, and clergy — in Bibles.
Ofori left behind a wife, a young family including a baby born just a week before the funeral, and a musical legacy that was cut short. The guitar-shaped coffin designed in his honor, and built entirely of wood, was created by Daniel Oblee Mensah, known by the cheerful nickname "Hello," who has been producing coffins for three decades that commemorate the professions, passions, and status of the deceased.
"Every time someone orders a coffin from me in the shape of the deceased's profession, it excites me," says 54-year-old Mensah. "It helps me pay true respect to the deceased and the family." The modern tradition of designer coffins emerged among Ga artisans around Accra in the mid-20th century, partly inspired by the decorated palanquins used by local leaders. Today, these objects occupy an extraordinary niche in contemporary art, and precise and diligent craftsmanship is invested in them, although once created, they disappear quickly underground. Only a few of them eventually reach display in museums, for example, a guitar-shaped coffin built by Ghanaian artist Paa Joe, which is on loan at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York.
A crocodile will cost you 900 dollars. Samuel Kumah Tetteh lay dressed in white before his funeral began, and the mourners greeted his family elders before approaching his body. 83-year-old Tetteh was known in his community by the nickname "The Teacher" and worked as an educator for more than half a century. The silence of the early morning hours in which his funeral was held gave way at some point to appropriate music as the mourners entered one by one, and then Tetteh's coffin arrived — a wooden box designed in the shape of a giant pen, on which the blood of a slaughtered lamb was smeared. This coffin was also the work of Mensah, and the work on it took about two weeks. The guests had time to briefly admire the wonderful creation, and then the pen was buried, and Mensah's work was swallowed by the earth as if it never existed.
In workshops across Accra, the lives of dozens of other people are waiting to be translated into a designed wooden coffin. Some customers arrive with a photograph that illustrates exactly what they are asking for, and others simply describe the life of the deceased. After that, the artists give free rein to their imagination. One of the most complex designs remembered by artist Lawrence Okoe Annang is a coffin in the shape of a crocodile, which was ordered from him more than a decade ago for a priest in the Volta region of Ghana. His father built the coffin, while young Annang, who was still learning the secrets of the profession he began training for at age 10, helped in the workshop.
Annang, now 26, currently manages the workshop together with his younger brother and says that the coffins are usually sold for a cost of about 10,000 Ghanaian cedi (about 900 dollars). Works intended for exhibitions cost more because the artists use more durable materials in them that are designed to last for decades under museum lights. The industry remains largely dependent on skills passed down in the family from generation to generation, although it has changed significantly since previous generations worked with hand tools. Modern equipment has accelerated production, wood supply has become more reliable, and orders from abroad for museums and collectors have helped expand the trade.
The ability to turn ordinary wooden beams into a fish, a plane, a Bible, a pen, or a guitar raises questions about how to call the people who create them. Annang considers himself a carpenter, a coffin maker, and an artist all at once. At Ofori's funeral, however, such questions seemed far away. Standing by his grave were the people the musician left behind. They gathered around the guitar, and then it was lowered into the depths of the earth, beyond sight. Another person was laid to rest, and another work of art was buried as if it had never existed.
