Marking an Anniversary

I wrote the following story at the request of the managing editor of The Namibian, a gutsy daily newspaper in the African country of Namibia. They were preparing to celebrate the 30th anniversary of the newspaper. 

Namibia is a country that sits on the southwest of Africa, between South Africa and Angola. There are 2.2 million people in this sandy, desert-filled country. The newspaper had invited me to travel there to work as a trainer/mentor. This was my first of three visits between 2001 and 2007. I spent a total of 10 months in country. Jo accompanied me for most of the months.

I sat with Oswald Shivute, The Namibian’s reporter in the north of the country, in his little tin shack that was called an office and I soon forgot my troubles in the 115 degree heat of his office. He took pains to give me a history lesson about the tribal situation in the North. The phone rang on his desk and he received a tip that the mortuary at the state hospital in Oshakati was full to overflowing with dead bodies.

He told me about this and said he would call the hospital to see if he could confirm this story. He talked with a woman at the hospital whom he called "sister" and she said there was "no problem." So he reported all of this to me. I suggested that we might want to get in my car and drive over to the mortuary to confirm there truly was no problem.

The scene is seared in my mind. We arrived at the mortuary. Oswald, in true Oshivambo fashion stood outside, knocking on the door. He called out three times, "Is everyone well within?" in Oshivambo. He explained this is tradition. I explained that we were at a mortuary and everyone inside was most surely dead. He thought this to be quite funny. 

We entered and came to the office where a tall man sat at a tall desk, looking like something out of a Dickens novel. He was writing in the book of the dead the names of the latest nine dead people. When he finished, he greeted Oswald and apologized for not leaving his book of death until the task was done.

I was introduced and they chatted in Oshivambo about the problem. Problem? Oh, yes. There certainly was a problem, the man said. He was the man who had to deal with it, not the sister in charge of the hospital. He told us he was stacking dead people like cord wood in his coolers.

Now my interest was at its peak. I asked if it would be possible to see the stacked dead. "Oh, no. I could lose my job," he said. I apologized and said we would never want that to happen. Then, he looked up to the ceiling, puzzling out a course of action. He wanted the story to be told. He wanted us to tell his story, his struggle, and his pain.

"If you said you came to the mortuary with the family of a dead person and you saw the dead when they went to retrieve the body, I could let you see this," he said with a sly smile.

Oswald and I discussed the ethics of this white lie. We decided it was okay so the man eagerly called his assistant and we entered the cold storage chamber. There, he swung open door after door. We saw and photographed the stacked dead. 

A man was on one tray, pushed in feet first. A woman lay on top of him, pushed in head first. It would be inappropriate to both have them head to head, he said.

One tray carried three children, with an infant placed under the tray. It was an astonishing sight. We photographed the dead and asked the mortuary manager why it was not possible for these people to be buried. He explained that the government no longer permitted poor people to come for their dead relatives with a blanket in which they could wrap them. They must now bring a coffin. Coffins are too expensive for most people, so the dead have piled up for six months. Now the mortuary can handle no more dead, he said.

We left the house of the dead with a great story, one which became the lead story, with pictures, in the next day's Namibian. It also became the talk of the nation on radio and eventually made it to the floor of Parliament where the ruling party was criticized for this state of affairs. The solution came about two weeks later when a mass grave was dug and the assembled dead were disposed of.