In a society where public outrage flares hot and fast, often sparked by headlines alone, it is no surprise that news of a legislator, the somewhat colourfully named Kabiru Mai Palace, renovating 80 cemeteries as constituency projects has raised eyebrows and rolled eyes. Memes are coming. Certainly.
The backlash is instinctive. Understandably so. With choking poverty, staggering youth unemployment and collapsing infrastructure, focusing on cemeteries sounds absurd. But it is not. Death, ironically, is one of the few things in Nigeria that functions with ruthless efficiency. Rich or poor, PhD or PDP, it comes for all. And when it does, dignity still matters.
Cemetery renovation is not just about the dead. It is a mark of respect for the living. The way a society treats its departed says a thing, two or three about its values. Want to measure a community’s soul? Look to its graveyards. Are they weed-choked, vandalized and forgotten or do they reflect reverence, history and peace?
It is tempting to ask what good luscious graveyards serve, given that the occupants are beyond caring. But would we ask the same of national monuments? Cemeteries are memory vaults. They house those who shaped the country in ways both grand and quiet: farmers, carpenters, “iron condemn”, teachers, soldiers, mothers, activists, artists, professors et al.
Some of them in Gusau/Tsafe Federal Constituency of Zamfara State may have voted for Mai Palace, who is now being mocked. This may be their final constituency benefit. From him, at least. It deserves something better than derision except we have established that the cost of renovating each cemetery grotesquely inflated.
In many rural communities, the cemetery is more than a burial site. It is sacred ground, a space where culture meets continuity. Renovating such places is not wasteful. It is a quiet act of preservation, healing, and accountability to those who can no longer demand it. These are the intangibles.
The tangibles include public health and the environment. Poorly maintained cemeteries can become breeding grounds for disease vectors, threaten water sources and deface the landscape. Installing drainage, fencing and order brings safety for both the living and the dead. The legislator pledged to engage cemetery guards, pay workers’ allowances and provide working tools. I do not see how any of these is bad.
We also do not know if the demand came from the constituents. If it did, there is little cause for complaint.
In a cynical age, doing anything for the dead looks like misdirection. But perhaps this is one of the few constituency projects untouched by corruption’s greasy hand. The beneficiaries cannot testify on WhatsApp or Instagram. Neither can they be bussed to cheer at the cemetery commissioning in branded T-shirts. If a legislator still chooses to invest there, perhaps he understands something about legacy.
We need to continue to renovate markets, fix schools and empower youth. But let us not mock those who choose to honour the dead. In the end, the cemetery is the only constituency where everyone will one day belong. And when that day comes, may our plot not be a pothole.