В Папуа — Новой Гвинее обсуждают парадокс традиционных похорон, обнищающих семьи

OVER the past decade, we have witnessed increasingly elaborate haus krai processions to funeral homes, churches, airports and villages across PNG. We experience this both as grieving families and as contributors supporting others. Too often, I have seen bereaved families emerge financially devastated. The haus krai is fundamentally about people. Relatives, wantoks, friends, colleagues, businesses, leaders and communities come together, contributing money, food, labour, transport and other assistance. No family should face the burden of death alone. But there is another dimension we seldom discuss: compassion capitalism. Compassion mobilises capital. Through cultural obligation, solidarity and reciprocity, money, goods and labour are mobilised and circulated. Funeral homes, airlines, transport operators, caterers, hotels, retailers and others earn income. The haus krai also functions like an informal community insurance system, helping families absorb the sudden financial shock of death. The problem arises when compassion is overtaken by excessive expenditure. Families may spend on coffins, repatriation, food, accommodation, transport and ceremonies, sometimes using savings, selling assets or borrowing money. This creates a paradox: A haus krai can generate significant economic activity while leaving the bereaved family financially weaker. So the question is not whether we should spend. It is who ultimately benefits from the capital our compassion mobilises? If K200,000 is raised, must all of it be consumed by funeral activities? Could part of it honour the deceased while the balance supports their children, spouse, education, livelihood or future needs? Our collective compassion is one of PNG’s greatest strengths. We should honour the dead while also protecting the living. What does our compassion leave behind? G Bopi Port Moresby