Ipharadisi

Ipharadisi, ikhaya labafile

Ipharadisi, ikhaya labafile

Ipharadisi, ikhaya labafile
Kulapho sophumla khona, Ipharadisi

Ipharadisi, ikhaya labafile

Ipharadisi, ikhaya labafile

Ipharadisi, ikhaya labafile

where all the dead are living
May we one day join them all there, Ipharadisi

The song above is one that I learned during my time in high school chamber choir.  I don't remember the origin or if there was a specific author, but I always found the song comforting.  I suppose Ipharadisi represents some sort of heaven or ghost realm, though an actual translation isn't included in the song.

The image is one that I created in response to a class I took about genocide.  In the aftermath of genocide, a child sifts through human remains in hopes of recognizing family.  For me this idea is both deeply disturbing and surprisingly hopeful.  Reuniting the living and the dead offers a chance for closure, but it also forces the living to accept the reality of loss.  Following mass killings, the remaining community is forced to decide how to engage with the dead.  Although the dead are not recognized as having rights postmortem, the attached meaning and dignity of human life prevents them from ever really being just objects.  Can the living truly understand or come to terms with the dead or death while they are alive?