Author: Stephen Armah Quaye
When a wealthy Ghanaian dies abroad, the family head back home swears by fire and water that the body must be flown to Ghana for burial.
Lavish plans are drawn, airline tickets are booked, and grand announcements flood social media all in the name of “respecting tradition.”
But when the deceased dies poor, there is no rush, no ceremony, and often, no return. The body is quietly laid to rest in a foreign land, sometimes without a proper farewell.
The double standard has long been painful enough yet an even darker practice has begun to take root: funerals are being bought and sold for profit.
Across Ghana today, funerals once sacred spaces of grief and remembrance are increasingly being treated as business ventures.
Wealthy individuals “buy” the rights to organize funerals of prominent or beloved figures, investing heavily in the event with one motive: to make profit from the dead.
Funeral committees are formed not for mourning, but for marketing. Funeral posters are rebranded into business flyers. Death itself has become a commercial transaction a stage for wealth, power, and greed.
A Painful New Reality
The commercialization of death has reached an alarming level. Reports abound of family heads and community elders “selling” funeral rights of deceased relatives to groups or individuals who then use the event to raise funds.
These buyers often plan extravagant ceremonies renting auditoriums, hiring live bands, and printing expensive souvenirs not to honor the dead, but to draw crowds and maximize “contributions.”
What should be a sacred farewell has turned into an investment opportunity, with profits pocketed by those who purchased the funeral.
The true victims? The widows, children, and close relatives of the deceased, whose grief is silenced by greed.
They are often excluded from decisions about burial arrangements or financial matters. The funeral meant to comfort them becomes a show they simply watch unfold.
A Stark Contrast: Lessons from Canada
In Canada, where many Ghanaians in the diaspora live, death is treated with quiet dignity and compassion. When someone passes away, families focus on closure, community support, and legal clarity not profit.
There are no bidding wars over who should “own” the funeral. No one fights for control of donations or “funeral proceeds.”
In Canada, you cannot buy a funeral; you plan it with love. Wills are respected, estates are handled transparently, and the bereaved are protected by law. When a family loses a loved one, the community unites around them not around money.
Funerals here are simple yet deeply meaningful: photographs, shared memories, heartfelt prayers, and peaceful burials.
There is no competition over who spent more or who “deserves” to control the event. Love, not luxury, defines the moment.
That simplicity has a powerful message for us back home: grief does not need glamour to be genuine.
Meanwhile, Back in Ghana
In Ghana, funerals have become some of the most extravagant social events with budgets that rival weddings.
Coffins shaped like cars or airplanes, elaborate canopies, customized fabrics, and celebrity appearances have turned mourning into spectacle.
Now, with this new trend of “funerals for sale,” things have gone from excessive to exploitative.
Take, for instance, the shocking claims surrounding the recent passing of a beloved cultural icon, Charles Kwadwo Fosu, known globally as “Daddy Lumba.”
Reports allege that his family head, Opanin Kofi Owusu Boahen, has already sold the funeral event to a community association hoping to use the occasion to generate revenue.
Whether or not the claim holds in full, it has sparked a painful public conversation: Have we truly lost the moral compass that guided how we honor the dead?
Instead of uniting in grief and celebrating a life that inspired millions, families now battle over funeral rights, estate control, and who profits from “funeral contributions.” Even in death, our heroes are not allowed to rest.
The Moral Decline
This culture of “funeral business” speaks to a broader moral decay. It reflects how deeply materialism and greed have infiltrated our values.
Death, once a reminder of humility and humanity, is now another means to make money. How did we become a people who turn tragedy into opportunity?
Once, the community gathered to comfort the bereaved. Now, they gather to calculate costs and count envelopes. Family heads, once peacemakers, now act as brokers.
Funerals have shifted from being communal healing moments to public showcases of affluence and status.
But it doesn’t have to be this way.
We Must Reclaim the Sanctity of Death
Death should remind us of three eternal truths humility, compassion, and continuity. Not competition, profit, and power.
Let us return to what our traditions were meant to uphold:
• Respect for the dead.
• Protection for the living.
• Integrity over inheritance.
• Compassion over competition.
We can learn from the Canadian model where law, respect, and simplicity coexist to protect dignity.
Funerals there do not bankrupt families or divide relatives. They heal, unite, and honor the journey of life.
Let us stop turning our grief into goldmines.
The dead do not need our money; they need our memories.
A Call to Conscience
It is time to end the business of funerals-for-profit. Families must reject any practice that commercializes death.
Religious leaders, chiefs, and policymakers should speak against this moral erosion. The media must expose those who profit from the pain of others.
Funerals should not be for sale.
The true measure of a funeral is not how grand it looks, but how faithfully it honors the humanity of the one who has gone and protects the dignity of those who remain.
Let us, as a people, rise above greed.
Let us say, enough is enough. Because in the end, when the crowds disperse and the music fades, it is not the size of the funeral that matters but the size of the love we carry forward.
