Graves without Names

His nickname was Momords or Marcial. He got old and sick. He died. He got buried. This was last year, yet until now his grave has not been painted. As I walk around a local cemetery, I notice that it’s divided into “districts”. Among the many graves I notice that many have no names – no identity.

On his grave there is no name, no date of birth and no date of death. The only hint at his existence is his nickname, Marcial, which was written and spelled incorrectly in the cement with a stick. Decades ago he worked as a driver for my parent’s company. During his last years he lived in my family’s compound until he moved out because of personal differences. I have no idea where his family and friends are or if they are still alive.

A grave can be seen as a final resting place – a final tribute to a person. Though it’s more important to take care of a person whilst alive, I see it as a sign of respect to take care of matters once someone has passed away. The emphasis therefore lies in the fact that an untaken care of grave makes it seem as if that person never existed and it seems that it won’t take long before that person is forgotten. It makes me think about legacies and life after death - literally.

Marcial’s case is not uncommon. The cemetery is divided into “districts”. Regular graves are a contrast among big elaborate structures (much like the contrast between “classes” in the Philippines). Walking around the cemetery I see more of the same graves. The unfinished and unpainted graves scattered throughout the cemetery are mere traces of people who once had a life. The contrast in the size of graves is not a manifestation of these people’s character or importance. It’s a mere manifestation of possible negligence within society due to social circumstances particular to a person. Some people’s spirits are kept alive through stories while others are truly forgotten. All these people once walked the streets and had conversations. They once worked odd jobs. They were once hardworking or passive, once careless or caring, once happy or unhappy.

As I look and see the many unnamed graves’ I think that at the end of some people’s lives for one reason or another they are left alone and they make a lonesome exit. It is a mere observation. Let us not forget those who live amongst us in the present and in the future when they pass away.

- Scenes & Angles -

(C) Anthony Jake Huiskamp Atienza