BBC News, Kaduna
For more than 50 years, a family in the northern Nigerian city of Kaduna has been caring for the largest cemetery, much to the gratitude of other residents who dislike the task of dealing with the dead.
Until a few weeks ago, they were not formally compensated for their work – digging graves, washing bodies and tending vast cemeteries, receiving only small donations for their labor from mourners.
A century ago, authorities set aside the vast Tudunwada Cemetery for the city’s Muslim residents.
The Abdullahi family got involved in the 1970s, when two brothers – Ibrahim and Adamu – started working there.
The two siblings are now laid to rest beneath the soil of the cemetery, and their son has become the main caretaker of the cemetery.
When asked why he chose to remain as Magaji, Ibrahim Abdullahi’s eldest son told the BBC: “What they taught us, their children, was that God loves This service, even if we receive no worldly gain, God will reward us for it” Unpaid undertaker.
The 58-year-old is now in charge of the sheep herding activities at Tudun Wada along with 18 staff or, until recently, volunteers.
He and his two cousins - Abdullahi, 50, and Aliyu, 40 (son of Adam Abdullahi) – are three full-time workers, both in 07: Work before 00:00, 12-hour shifts, 7 days a week.
They always need to be on call because, according to Muslim rites, a funeral must be organized within a few hours of someone’s death.
Magaji tends to receive calls on his cell phone, either directly from relatives or from imams—all the religious clerics in the city have his phone number.
“A lot of people have our phone number, and as soon as someone dies, we get the call and get to work right away,” he said.
One of the three goes to care for the body, which may include washing the body and wrapping it in a shroud.
The body was measured and those details were texted to others so the grave could be dug.
This can take about an hour – with two people taking turns digging 6 feet (1.8m) underground – sometimes longer if it’s in the stone areas of the cemetery.
They can dig about a dozen graves a day – backbreaking work in Kaduna’s hot weather.
“Today alone we dug eight graves, and it’s not even midday, as it is on some days,” said Abdullahi, who started working at the cemetery when he was 20 years old.
The cousins lived through very tense times, especially during religious violence, between the city’s Christian and Muslim residents. These two communities tend to live on either side of the Kaduna River.
“We have had several religious conflicts in Kaduna, but the one that stands out to me the most was one in the early 1990s. Many people were killed,” Magaji said.
“We go around collecting bodies and taking them off the streets.”
Muslims were taken to Tudhunwada in the north of the city, and Christians to a cemetery in the southern suburbs.
“It was an unsettling time for me personally, having only been in office for a short period of time, but it strengthened my resolve to continue working,” he said.
Typically, as teams dig graves, the imam of the local mosque announces that a funeral will be held during one of the five daily prayers.
Many worshipers then go to pray where the body has been prepared, and the body is then taken to the cemetery for burial, which is often crowded with mourners.
Once at the cemetery, the shrouded body is lowered – covered with a layer of sticks and broken clay pots as a sign of respect. The grave was then filled in to form a slightly raised bed.
After the service and before mourners leave, cemetery keepers will appeal for donations.
This is usually done by Inuwa Mohammed, 72, the cemetery’s oldest worker, who explained the importance of the Abdullahi family to the community.
He once worked with his cousins’ father: “They were amazing people who loved what they did and instilled that selfless behavior in their children.”
The small amount of money collected could sometimes buy lunch for the crew, but never enough to buy anything else. In order to survive, the family also owns a small farm and grows food.
These graves will be recycled after 40 years, which means land is not a big issue, but maintenance is.
“There are a lot of things missing – we don’t have enough equipment to work and we don’t have good security,” said Aliyu, the youngest of the cousins, who has been working there for 10 years.
He explained how part of the wall collapsed, allowing those looking for scrap metal to steal the tombstone.
Some graves have metal plates inscribed with names and dates of birth and death – although many do not because Islamic clerics discourage showing off. Most are just outlined with stones and bricks or sticks.
Either way, the cousins remember the location of everyone buried in the cemetery, and they can provide guidance to people if they forget the location of a relative’s grave.
Their fortunes have changed dramatically following a recent BBC visit to the cemetery.
The new local council president, whose office oversees the site, has decided to put them on the payroll.
“They deserve it considering the amount of work they do every day,” Rayyan Hussain told the BBC.
“The grave is the final home for all of us, and the people who do this hard work should be paid, so my office will pay them as long as I serve as chairman.”
Magaji confirms employees will start receiving monthly salaries for the first time:
- The five eldest people, including himself, will receive 43,000 naira ($28; £22.50)
- Others, including Abdullahi and Aliyu, will receive 20,000 naira ($13; £10.50).
That’s well below the national minimum wage of $45 a month, but Mr Hussain said he hoped to increase their allowance “over time”.
He said it was regrettable that the cemetery had been abandoned for many years by previous local council leaders.
The chairman added that he plans to repair parts of the fence, install solar lights and increase security.
“I also built a room in the cemetery where bodies can be washed and prepared for burial, which previously had to be done at home.”
It’s a welcome investment for the Abdullahi family – which Magaji hopes will ensure one of his 23 children will one day become the custodian of the cemetery.