The 'Bikkah' The Bizzare Sudanese Funeral

Shortly after the passing of my haboba, my 16 year old cousin was calling me continuously. For the first time in many months I’d forgotten to make my phone Silent before I slept. It was ringing and ringing and I became very irritated because as a broadcaster, I have to be up by 5am every morning and I have to be in a good mood. 

Our house is divided, the top floor is sectioned off with its own staircase and door, and we live there. The bottom floor is where my haboba lived and so, during the summer holidays all of her children and grandchildren would come and stay with us to see haboba.

I got out of bed, and walked towards my charger and then the ringing stopped, just in case it rang again I decided to take my phone and rest it besides me not once thinking of calling her back –she was on her school holiday break and I knew that her and the other kids stay up all night and pretty much mess around until they got tired, I figured it would be something trivial like ‘I forgot my blanket upstairs’.

It rang again, this time I answered.

‘Hind, Open the staircase door’ Came a forceful voice from my cousin

‘Aseel, Get Lost’ ‘Came an irritated voice from me.

‘Haboba died. I need to tell your mum’.

Silence...

At that moment I didn't know how I felt about haboba, my main focus was on my mother who had been suffering throughout the entire course of my haboba's illness. How would she take the news? What should I do to make it easier?

Aseel and I walked up to where my parents were sleeping, I sat down next to my mother and noticed that the story had changed.

‘Haboba is really sick! You need to call aunty in the hospital’

I darted her a strange look before realizing that she was simply just too afraid to say it. She whispered to me,  'should I tell her'!?!?

I held my mother in my arms and nodded.

My mother’s response was shock and prayer, she asked God to make her mother from those who make it to heaven and then took her phone and started calling her siblings. What came after that was something very new to me. Sudanese Culture is a mixture of African and Arab heritage as well as Islamic traditions. The way that they deal with anything is always a combination of these, but more predominantly than Islam, the African and Arab heritage show themselves.

‘Bait al Bikkah’ which literally means, ‘the house in which we cry’ is the place where people must go to give their condolences to the family.The people who host the ‘Bikkah’ are the deceased’s spouse, siblings, children and grandchildren, these are the people to whom you must give your condolences.

Now, the way that you give your condolences is very interesting, you make a prayer, before hugging and crying into the arms of the person who has had a loss, then they too must cry. Crying, even if fake is seen as a sign of respect.

We left our house at 4:00am to go to my uncle’s house, which became 'bait al bikka' for the next three days. As I entered I felt that there was so much sorrow, yet there were only 13 people.  Crying hysterically and yelling and screaming. My haboba’s younger sister was crying and weeping, she was chanting 'why did u leave me I needed you still, you were my mother and my sister why why'. She said this repeatedly and paced up and down the room, her sorrow was infectious and made everyone more and more miserable. I kept thinking that she's known haboba for at least 40 years longer than me and that the pain i feel is probably nothing compared to hers. She reminded me of the things my haboba used to do for me, like hide me away when my mother wanted to punish me, or give me sweets from the secret stash in her cupboard when I was good.  I felt pain and loss, and many people were hugging me and crying.

After hours and hours of people constantly crying I couldn't take it anymore; my tears fell dry and my head started aching. By the time it was 11am, the Sudanese bikkah ritual finally began and although my back and feet were aching, I was grateful for it. We were expected to provide guests with water, food, tea and coffee continuously.

 There were so many people, the men and then women were divided and we had to cater to all of them. Some people were very astonishing to me because even though this was a funeral, they were very happy to ask us to return their tea if it was too heavy or light for another cup. Although this was aggravating I made sure I didn't get aggravated because I know that to haboba would have wanted her guests to be honored,  even if they weren't honorable.

There were many fascinating mentalities at the Bikkah, Although we were expected to provide food, there was also a social convention which meant that the guests shouldn't eat - and if they eat they should eat 'sadly'. We, as the people of the bikkah need to persuade people to eat as well as provide them with food and only then is it OK for them to eat. 

I found this fascinating and couldn't help but try to figure out the root of this way of thinking. The guests should fake cry, and fake not wanting to eat and you have to persuade them... you have to convince them to do something that you yourself don't want to do... It's almost like a game but the outcome is that you end up reassuring yourself that eating is OK. It also seems that the whole point of having a bikkah is to keep you so occupied that you no longer have time to grieve. You are just busy, all the time, and for the most part that’s exactly what happened.

I was also taken aback by the number of cousins around my age whom were helping us who we had never known before. We formed very close bonds as we worked together providing food and drinks, we laughed together and some even stayed the night. The next couple of days were the same, the crying affected me less and less and it got much less anyway. But when all was done, and the bikkah was over reality kicked in.

I couldn't really accept that my grandmother wasn’t just in the bathroom or in her room, I still experience moments of great sadness that creep in from time to time but overall, I think the bikkah is an interesting idea, and it really does help occupy you.