The Nigerian family who volunteers to dig graves in Kaduna

For more than 50 years, one 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 profession of dealing with the dead.

Until a few weeks ago, they did so without formal pay, digging graves, washing bodies and tending the vast cemetery, receiving only small donations from mourners for their work.

The authorities dedicated the vast Tudun Wada cemetery to Muslims residing in the city a century ago.

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

The two brothers now lie beneath the soil in the cemetery, and their sons have become the chief custodians of the cemetery.

“Their teachings to us, their children, were that God loves service and will reward us for it even if we do not get any earthly gains,” Magaji, Ibrahim Abdullah’s eldest son, told the BBC when asked why they chose to continue working. Unpaid undertakers.

The 58-year-old is now in charge of the grazing operations in Tudun Wada, staffed by 18 employees or, until recently, volunteers.

He and his two younger cousins ​​- Abdullahi, 50, and Aliu, 40, (Adamu Abdullahi's sons) – are three full-time workers, all showing up by 7am to work 12-hour shifts, seven days a week.

They must always be prepared because according to Islamic rituals, the burial process must be organized within a few hours of someone's death.

Magaji tends to receive the call on his mobile phone, either directly from a relative or from an imam – all the 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 get to work right away,” he says.

One of the trio goes to care for the body, which may include washing it and wrapping it in a shroud.

The body is measured and these details are forwarded to others so that a grave can be dug.

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

They can dig about ten graves in one day, which is hard work in the Kaduna heat.

Abdullah, who started working in the cemetery when he was twenty years old, says: “Today alone we dug eight graves, and it was not even noon, and some days it was like that.”

The cousins ​​have fallen on very difficult times – especially during the religious violence when tensions flared between the city's Christian and Muslim residents. The two communities tend to live on opposite sides of the Kaduna River.

“We have seen several religious clashes in Kaduna, but the one that stands out to me the most is the one in the early 1990s. Many people were killed,” says Magaji.

“We went around collecting bodies and taking them off the streets.”

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

“It was a worrying time on a personal level, and I wasn't spending much time in the job at the time, but it helped strengthen my determination to keep going,” he says.

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

Many worshipers then go to the place where the body was prepared to pray, and it is then taken to the cemetery for burial, with mourners often gathering.

Once they arrive at the graveside, the body is lowered, covered in a layer of sticks and broken pottery, as a sign of respect. The grave is then filled to form a slightly raised bed.

After the rituals end and before the mourners leave, the cemetery guards appeal for donations.

This is usually done by 72-year-old Inuwa Mohammed, the oldest worker at the cemetery, who explains the importance of the Abdullah family to the community.

He worked with his cousins' parents: “They were wonderful people who loved what they did and imbibed their children with this altruistic behavior.”

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

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

“There is a lot that we lack right now,” says Aliyu, the youngest cousin, who has been working there for 10 years. “We don’t have enough equipment to work with, or good security.”

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

Some graves contain metal plaques with names and dates of birth and death on them – although many do not because Islamic clerics discourage ostentation. Most of them are marked with stones, bricks or sticks.

In either case, cousins ​​remember the location of each person buried in the cemetery and can direct people if they forget the location of a relative's grave.

After the BBC's recent visit to the cemetery, they witnessed a radical change in their fortunes.

The head of the new local council, whose office oversees the site, decided to include them on the payroll.

“They deserve it, given the tremendous work they do every day,” Rayan Hussein told the BBC.

“Cemeteries are the final resting places 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.”

Majaji confirms that employees have begun receiving a monthly salary for the first time:

• The five eldest, including himself, 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 Mr Hussein says he hopes their allowance will increase “over time”.

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

The board president adds that he has plans to repair parts of the fence, install solar-powered lights and add security.

“I am also building a room in the cemetery where the bodies can be washed and prepared for burial, before now all this was done from homes.”

For the Abdullah family, this is a welcome investment – ​​and Magaji hopes it will ensure that one of his 23 children one day becomes guardian of the cemetery.