Posted by Mgbeodichinnma Catherine on Facebook
Yesterday, I attended the funeral of a very wealthy Igbo man who had lived in the United States for more than 30 years. He left home as a young man, built his empire in America, and never looked back. He was extremely wealthy — four houses, several luxury cars, and at least three successful businesses that I personally know of, not including the investments I’m unaware of.
Naturally, I assumed that when he died, his remains would be flown back to his hometown in Igboland to be buried among his people. But to my surprise, I was told he would be buried in the U.S.
When I asked why, the answer shocked me.
For decades, he was never at peace with his family members or village people. He cut ties and dissociated himself completely from them. Despite all his wealth, he never helped anyone rise, never built a house back home, never invested in his community — nothing.
His father died two years ago; he didn’t attend. His mother is still alive. His five siblings all live in Nigeria. Yet, at the end of his life, he was surrounded not by blood, but by church members and a few friends who took responsibility for his funeral.
During the service, I walked up to his transparent casket and looked at him — lifeless, silent, still. My heart broke. At the cemetery, as his casket was lowered into the ground, a deep sadness washed over me.
That burial changed my entire perspective on life.
This… this is how it all ends, brothers and sisters.
The anger, the pain, the grudges we hold for years — they all end in the grave.
The pride, the position, the wealth we cling to — all of it stays behind.
The money we refuse to share, the help we refuse to give, the love we withhold — none of it follows us.
From dust we were made, and to dust we will return.
Let us learn to live freely, give freely, and forgive easily.
This world is too small, and life is too short to carry hate, bitterness, or resentment.
In the end, nothing truly belongs to us.
Nothing.
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