The Nigerian family who volunteers to dig graves in Kaduna

For more than 50 years, a family has dedicated itself to caring for the largest cemetery in the northern Nigerian city of Kaduna, much to the gratitude of other residents who do not like the task of caring for the dead.

Until a few weeks ago, they did so without formal remuneration: they dug graves, washed bodies and tended the vast cemetery, receiving only small donations from mourners for their work.

The huge Tudun Wada cemetery was reserved by authorities a century ago for the city’s Muslim residents.

The Abdullahi family became involved in the 1970s, when two brothers, Ibrahim and Adamu, began working there.

The two brothers now lie beneath the cemetery soil and their children have become the main custodians of the cemetery.

“His teachings to us, his children, were that God loves service and would reward us for it even if we did not gain any worldly benefit,” Magaji, Ibrahim Abdullahi’s eldest son, told the BBC when asked why they had chosen continue as unpaid funeral homes.

The 58-year-old is now responsible for herding operations at Tudun Wada and the 18 staff or, until recently, volunteers.

He and his two younger cousins, Abdullahi, 50, and Aliyu, 40, (sons of Adamu Abdullahi), are the three full-time workers, and they all show up at 07:00 for a 12-hour shift, seven days a week.

It is necessary that they always be on duty because, according to Muslim rites, the burial must be organized a few hours after a person’s death.

Magaji often receives calls on his mobile, either directly from a family member or from an imam; all the religious clerics in the city have his number.

“A lot of people have our numbers and as soon as someone dies, we get a call and immediately get to work,” he says.

One of the trio goes to tend to the corpse, which may include washing it and wrapping it in a shroud.

The body is measured and those details are texted to others so a grave can be dug.

This can take about an hour, with two people taking turns digging 1.8 m (6 ft) into the ground, sometimes longer when in a rocky area of ​​the cemetery.

They can dig a dozen graves in a day – hard work in the Kaduna heat.

“Today alone we have dug eight graves and it’s not even noon, some days are like that,” says Abdullahi, who started working at the cemetery when he was 20 years old.

The cousins ​​have been through some very stressful times, especially during religious violence, when tensions rise between the city’s Christian and Muslim residents. The two communities tend to live on opposite sides of the Kaduna River.

“We had a couple of religious clashes in Kaduna, but the one that shocked me the most was one in the early 1990s. A lot of people died,” says Magaji.

“We were collecting the bodies and removing them from the streets.”

The Muslims were taken to Tudun Wada, in the north of the city, and the Christians, to cemeteries in the southern suburbs.

“It was a very worrying time personally and I wasn’t at work for long, but that helped improve my determination to continue,” he says.

Normally, while the team is digging a grave, at the local mosque the imam announces during one of the five daily prayers that a funeral will be held.

Many of the faithful then go to the place where the body was prepared for prayers; It is then transported to the cemetery for burial, often packed with mourners.

Once next to the grave, the shrouded body is lowered and covered with a layer of sticks and broken clay pots as a sign of respect. The grave is then filled to form a slightly raised bed.

After the rituals are completed and before the mourners leave, the cemetery guardians ask for donations.

This is often done by Inuwa Mohammed, 72, the cemetery’s oldest worker, who explains the importance of the Abdullahi family to the community.

He used to work with his cousins’ parents: “They were amazing people who loved what they did and have imbued their children with this altruistic behavior.”

The little money raised is sometimes used to buy lunch for the crew, but it is never enough for anything else. To survive, the family also has a small farm where they grow food.

The graves are recycled after 40 years, which means that the land is not a big problem, but maintenance is.

“At the moment there are many things missing: we don’t have enough equipment to work with or good security,” says Aliyu, the youngest of the cousins ​​who has worked there for 10 years.

He explains how part of the wall collapsed, allowing those looking for scrap metal to steal the tombstones.

Some of the tombs have metal plaques inscribed with a name and a date of birth and death, although many do not, as Islamic clerics do not encourage ostentation. Most are simply outlined with stones and bricks or a stick.

Either way, cousins ​​remember the location of everyone buried in the cemetery and can direct people if they have forgotten the location of a relative’s grave.

Following the BBC’s recent visit to the cemetery, they have seen a dramatic change in their fortunes.

The new president of the local council, whose office oversees the place, decided to put them on the payroll.

“They deserve it, given the enormous work they do every day,” Rayyan Hussain tells the BBC.

“Graves are the last home for all of us and the people who do this kind of hard work deserve to be paid, so my office will pay them as long as I am president.”

Magaji confirms that staff began receiving a monthly salary for the first time:

• the five eldest, including himself, will receive 43,000 naira ($28; £22.50)
• the others, including Abdullahi and Aliyu, receive 20,000 naira ($13; £10.50).

This is well below the national minimum wage of $45 a month, but Hussain says he hopes to increase his allowance “over time.”

He says it is unfortunate that the cemetery has been abandoned for years by previous local council bosses.

He plans to repair parts of the fence, install solar lights and add security, the president adds.

“I am also building a room in the cemetery where corpses could be washed and prepared for burial; before all this had to be done from homes.”

For the Abdullahi family, it is a welcome investment, and one Magaji hopes will ensure that one of his 23 children will one day become custodian of the cemetery.