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How coffin makers laugh all the way to the bank
For some weird reasons, a first-time walk to Mr Olasubomi Ade’s workshop left an oddly bland taste beyond the taste buds. It might be the dryness of the air that led to his Agege, Lagos home, as houses stood right in front of other houses without recourse to physical planning. There was also the graveyard silence that wrapped the atmosphere as wooden coffins lined up right outside his kiosk.
Ade, 59, said he had been a furniture maker for most of his life, adding that making coffins was a forte he took a liking for because, for him, it was special.
“The way it is designed and how the woods come together to make beautiful pieces is one thing I love about my work.
“I make other furniture pieces but seeing a finished coffin leave my workshop for a funeral home fills me with instant peace,” the soft-spoken man said, as he showed our correspondent inside his crowded shop.
His voice pierced through the screeching sound of the wood sandpaper as his apprentices worked on several other fresh pieces.
After a deep breath, this reporter stepped into the shop, which seemed too small to accommodate the many coffins housed there.
Different designs, different concepts and different sizes.
In 1996, Ade said he decided to diversify into making coffins, as the trade was not as popular as it is now.
“We had very few woodworkers who were doing it. I was not even in Lagos fully then. I was shuttling between Lagos and Osun State because of some engagements I had there (Osun),” he said, caressing an unfinished coffin with his eyes half-closed.
He told one of his apprentices to smoothen the piece and made a joke about making sure the dead were comfortable when they ‘journey into the land beyond this realm.’
Ade noted that I was lucky to see him as he seldom came to his Lagos workshop because of age.
In March 1996, Ade said he lost one of his close relatives and needed a coffin for burial but could not get one that was ‘befitting’ for the deceased.
Being a woodworker himself, he decided to craft something with the help of his old boss, who taught him carpentry.
He said, that was the beginning of his love for the art of making coffins.
On the day of the funeral of his deceased relative, Ade said everyone kept commenting on the finesse of the coffin, adding that he knew he had ‘talent for this kind of work’.
‘My wife thought I was mad’
Ade said that when he sought the opinion of his wife on the craft, she told him ‘that kind of business is for bad people’, noting that she would not be a part of it.
After much pleading, which included involving the extended family, she accepted on the condition that the workshop would be far from other furniture.
“My wife thought I had gone mad. You know how people look at us because of this business, as though we are purveyors of death. We all will die one day and enter a coffin if our religion permits, so there is no need for all the cynicism about the trade,” he added, standing up almost abruptly to clear out a cobweb right above where he sat.
Right behind his workshop was a woman who made amala and ewedu.
The woman, who identified herself as Iya Amala, said she had no problem sharing the space with Ade, adding that they had been friends for years.
“I don’t sell my food here. I only cook here and take it to my shops down the road. Everyone knows me in the area because my amala is very tasty and neatly prepared,” she said.
‘Son died on way to deliver coffin in Osun’
Ade said an unforgettable experience for him was when his youngest son died when he accompanied a driver to deliver a coffin in an area in Osun State.
According to him, the car brake failed and the son was the only one who died.
“People said a lot of things. I had three sons and he was the one who was really interested in the business.
“I had lost my wife years earlier. This business and my two boys are all I live for,” he added.
For another coffin maker, Bankole Esan, who started the business almost 10 years ago, sales have not been too favourable because of the economic condition.
Speaking on the telephone with our correspondent, the Ekiti State-based casket maker said he had had better days.
Recounting how he started the business, Esan said he had always been a lover of furniture making and decided to join the trade when he finished secondary school.
He was in Lagos then and worked in one of the funeral homes on the mainland as a driver.
He said he began to develop interest, learnt the trade and became a professional.
When he moved to Ado-Ekiti, Esan said he decided to set up a funeral home, Banky Funeral Homes.
Mother said no
Esan said when he told his mother he wanted to go into the making and sales of caskets, his mother protested, saying it was not a “healthy business for a man like me”.
“It was a serious battle. I had to make her understand that it was just work for me. But, it was not as easy as I am saying it now,” he added.
He also stated that the way society treated him was unfair, adding that some persons saw him as one who “stored dead people” in his home.
“It is just a wooden box that all of us will enter into someday. There is nothing mysterious about coffins. I think it is just the notion over the years that it may symbolise something bad,” he noted.
Coffin Street
Idealgist visited the popular Odunlami Street, Lagos, also known as Coffin Street, for the obvious constellation of coffin makers and sellers.
The street has a deep-seated history as one of the early beginnings of casket making in Lagos, as it was the place where the late Pa Theophilus Okusanya, a carpenter and coffin maker, began his funeral empire.
According to LTJ Funeral International, one of the many offshoots of his company, Okusanya started the Magbamowo Industrial Company on the street in 1946.
Known for his skill in making pews and church furniture, the LTJ website stated that Okusanya began making coffins on request and became very successful and popular at it.
“A benevolent, humorous and charming gentleman, Pa Okusanya took many apprentices under his wings and trained them to become independent coffin makers in the area and across Nigeria.
“He was affectionately called ‘Master’ or ‘Master Carpenter” the resource added.
It is 77 years since Okusanya started this trade on this street, and the area, as our correspondent walked through it, looked like trade just started like a world filled with mummies.
On number 18 sat St. John Casket. A quick look from across the street gives a sombre feel, and as our correspondent crossed, one of the salesmen of the company beckoned.
“Oga, we have it here. What are you looking for? Sorry about your loss. We will give you the best experience,” he quietly said.
The marketing seemed awkward, even for him, as he quietly fell back into his seat when our reporter walked into his shop.
The price ranged from as high as N150,000 to as much as N20m. In fact, one of the salesmen, who did not want to be named, said there were more expensive ones. He called them ‘premium wares’.
Speaking of his experience doing the line of work, the salesman said even his roommate did not know what work he did, which was why he declined to give his name.
“You know the way people behave. I don’t want someone to say I want to kill him so I can sell my coffin to him. The coffins here are not for the living; they are for the dead,” he stressed.
He also noted that there were not only wooden caskets.
“We have metal ones, too, which are imported from China, Malaysia and America. The minimum price for those ones now will be more than N2m, depending on the grade of the metal used,” he added.
On number 22 was Easy Way Casket and the line went on and on almost unending.
Another Lagos Island-based operator, Mr Erukubami Magnus, inherited the business from his late elder brother.
On average, he claims to rake in millions annually. For him, he has no target customers, anybody can come and buy from him.
“I have for the rich and the poor as well. I also do home delivery service,” he quipped.
Narrating a rough experience he had with a customer, Magnus said, “The day I tried to give someone my card, I got the insult of my life and ever since then, I stopped it.”
Casket making
Two researchers from the Department of Forestry and Wildlife Management, University of Port Harcourt, Rivers State, Adedapo Aiyeloja and Gabriel Adedeji in a 2018 study on the socio-economy of producing wooden caskets in Rivers State, stated that the sector was ‘great but silent’.
Casket and coffin are often used interchangeably to mean a container where human remains (corpse) are placed for burial.
While ‘coffin’ is exclusively used for such purpose, Funeral Vocabulary, an online resource, stated that ‘casket’, in addition to this usage comes in different shapes and sizes for other uses such as a little container to keep pieces of jewellery and precious gems.
For a business that has existed for decades, there seems to be little literature about the economy and worth of the industry in Nigeria