There is a rather morbid joke about cemeteries being places that people are dying to get into. Sadly, if the majority of dead people in Georgetown had a choice, Le Repentir Cemetery would probably be the last place they would choose for their final resting place.
Le Repentir is, of course, French for ‘repentance.’ The name must seem increasingly ironic given that, even if one repented fulsomely of one’s sins before death, burial in Le Repentir might be closer to the modern interpretation of purgatory as a place or condition of suffering. Indeed, the cemetery might not be far off some people’s conception of a kind of banal hell of neglect and filth in the tropics. However, the pain and the suffering caused by Le Repentir are naturally felt only by the surviving friends and relatives of the deceased, who most probably soon repent of having interred their loved ones there.
Overgrown by bush, some roads nothing more than potholed dirt tracks, prone to flooding and with many areas more often than not under water and muddy, haunted by the living dead of our decaying society – homeless vagrants, hustlers of various kinds, grave robbers, petty thieves and hardened criminals – the once serene Le Repentir with its majestic sentry palms is nothing less than a national disgrace.
It is bad enough that too many of our citizens live in degraded, impoverished conditions, ground down by the harsh indignities of life and eking out their survival in a nation with sub-standard social services and unreliable basics such as electricity and running water. It is sad that we have become, as a nation, too accepting of mediocrity and deteriorating standards. But must the final indignity of death be so exacerbated by the unremitting squalor of Le Repentir?
It is a truism that death is inevitable, though it is not always easy to accept. It is a daily occurrence, but it is far from a routine experience. It happens; it just happens and more often than not, causes terrible grief and suffering to those left behind. The bereaved then have to fill the void in their lives with memories of happier times in order to carry on with their lives. And, frequently, visiting the graves of their loved ones is part of the healing process, to reminisce, to seek tranquillity after the pain of loss.
Perhaps a measure of a country’s development is the condition of its cemeteries. But we know that a developing country like ours can ill afford the mausoleums, manicured lawns and landscaped gardens found in the cemeteries of wealthier nations. Surely we can do better, however.
If the civilization of a nation were to be judged by how it treats its dead, then Guyana would still have far to travel before we might feel reasonably satisfied with the level of progress most of us would like to attain.
We do not have a crematorium and our cemeteries, of which Le Repentir is the most egregious example, are hardly places conducive to bringing forth fond remembrances and peace of mind. Rather they reinforce the loss all the more and add insult to injury by their very wretchedness.
Death does not have to be celebrated, as in Mexico, where the Day of the Dead (All Souls’ Day) is marked by family gatherings at grave sites, with offerings of food and flowers, in acknowledgment of the co-dependence of life and death.
Indeed, one would have to be seriously committed to one’s dearly departed or seriously deranged, to try doing something similar at Le Repentir. But is it asking too much to have a clean, well kept, safe and calming environment in which to commune with one’s lost friends and relatives?
There can be no denying that death is inevitable. But there is no need to compound its misery by allowing our burial sites to be as abject and atrocious as Le Repentir has been allowed to become. It is hardly surprising though, when one looks around and considers the debased and dirty environment inhabited by the living. The authorities do very little to guarantee a clean and healthy living environment and we, with a few exceptions, must to some extent share the blame for not doing more individually and collectively to improve our surroundings and for not demanding better of those to whom we pay taxes.
There may be no such thing as an afterlife, although no one can say with any certainty one way or another. But one thing is sure: our loved ones do not deserve to be buried in such a place as Le Repentir. In death, as in life, we are all deserving of more dignity.
