A lucrative business?

Dionisia Tabureguci






“Catering for the dead can be a lucrative business,” says Simione Tugi, director at Tugi Funeral Homes in a telephone interview with FIJI BUSINESS.
“I mean, do the math. The two main hospitals in Suva record an average of 120 deaths each month —that’s based on figures I’ve collected over the years.  Factor in how much their relatives spend on the casket alone—a casket at a price of around $500 per dead and you’re looking at around $720,000 a year. And this if you’re looking at just Suva.
“Someone dies in other hospitals around Fiji every day so definitely you’re looking at a potential million dollar industry.”
He has a valid point, if one considers the recent population figures released by the Secretariat of the Pacific Community. 
Based on their Crude Death Rate for Fiji, this year’s national death figure would stand at a little over 7000. If they were all to be bought a casket at a low price of $200 each, that would equate to roughly $1.4 million changing hands in Fiji just for caskets alone. 
We are having a conversation about the dead.  The curiosity lies in whether the business of being an undertaker, unique as it is, could be one to deliver profits.
Tugi, who used to run his small business as a funeral director out of Samabula a few years ago, believes there is money to be made in it.
It may not be your every day corner shop or vegetable stand, he points out, but it is just as necessary and important to the living.
This was partly why he set up Tugi Funeral Homes when he returned from the United States of America some years ago.
Business has since become tough, forcing him to relocate back to his home in Wailoku, Tamavua.
But what he established became the first such funerary intermediary facility that sought to cater specifically for what can turn out to be quite taxing Fijian burials—taxing for the living that is; although he admits, he is available to anyone who seeks his service regardless of ethnicity.
“When we started in 2005, things were very different,” explains the former union man. 
“It was very rare for Fijians to come to us to buy a casket for $500—they usually go for caskets priced at above $500.
“But times have changed. The cost of living has gone up, everyone is trying to budget and this has had its impact on our business as well.
“Still, you cannot dismiss the fact that death can be a very costly business for the Fijian. I started my business to try to respond to that. It’s just a part of our Fijian culture that we do the best we can for our dead. 
“We have protocols that need to be followed and as a result, we can mourn our dead for up to seven days. But if you look at that in terms of what we have to spend—feeding relatives and accommodating those who come, maybe from the village—each day before the burial is an unplanned cost being borne by the living.”
Because of what tradition demands, Fijian funerals can be more costly than those of other ethnic groups, observes Tugi, and this is why catering for this niche can be quite rewarding.    
“I’ve noticed that we are very sensitive to our dead compared to the Hindus. For example, they can settle for a cheaper casket despite their financial status, because they cremate their dead—what’s the point in buying an expensive casket if you’re going to burn it?
“The Muslims bury their dead on the same day as part of their religious belief, whereas we Fijians go to great lengths to mourn our dead.”    
In an age where there is increasing debate among the Fijian community on whether it may be logical to let go of some traditional protocols, Tugi insists the same cannot be said of matters relating to death.
The subject is so taboo that his efforts in the past to try to educate some to at least plan and have everything in place before they die have been met with reservations
“I lived in America for five years and things are very different there.  Before they die, they’ve got everything planned, so when their time comes, they don’t burden the living. 
“When I returned to Fiji, I tried to introduce that concept. I went to hospitals and spoke to patients who were in serious `condition`, urging them to plan ahead. It wasn’t very successful—people are not comfortable to talk about death when they’re still alive. I think there is a need to change according to time but it’s very difficult for us Fijians…we want to hold on so much and death becomes a very expensive business. 
“For a standard Fijian burial, we charge between $3000-$4000 and you wonder how they can afford it.  Imagine organising a very big gathering in a very short time and you only have that small window of time to fork out $4,000,” says Tugi.
Tugi’s ‘standard burial’ would include arrangements for most necessities—obtaining the death certificate, releasing the remains from the mortuary, getting the burial plot ready, erecting sheds, magiti, buses, hearse, police escort if needed, church service, and casket among others.
“We want to do the running around and let the family of the dead mourn their loss,” Tugi adds. 
What his costs do not cover however are the expenses that naturally crop up when the deceased’s immediate family try to cater for a gathering of ‘close relatives,’ which may include many families, clans, an entire village or, in some cases, many villages. 
Factor that in and the bill for a decent Fijian burial could run up to a few more thousand dollars and it is not uncommon to find the living having to deal with debts incurred from burying their loved one.
“One encouraging aspect for us Fijians is that when these relatives come, they help out—if not in cash than in other forms, like food, yaqona and they also help out. But it is still an expensive exercise for us and I hope the new generation of Fijians will come and change some things.  We can maintain the protocols but if we only teach ourselves to plan, we can handle the costs. If we don’t plan, it can get very expensive,” cautions Tugi. 

Undertaking the burden
The Yellow Pages of the 2010 Fiji Telephone Directory lists 12 funeral directors, all of them located in Viti Levu. 
This, however, does not limit the reach of their services nor their availability to transport their delicate cargoes.
At a very basic level, most undertakers offer coffins—both standard and personalised—as well as hearses and transportation of remains from the morgue to anywhere in Fiji or abroad. 
The transportation of remains to and from other countries—whether in the form of body or ashes—is all done through funeral directors, and they become a vital link between the deceased and his or her final resting place.
The exercise needs special attention like embalming and the provision of specially made caskets suited for air travel, not to mention the necessary documentations that have to be put through government and foreign government processes. 
So because of the nature of their service, funeral directors are available around the clock, and their work is arguably ranked among the least noticed and under-appreciated. 
“An undertaker’s job is not easy,” says Ramesh Kumar, managing director of Patton & Storck Ltd.
“Not everybody can do this kind of thing. I have to be available 24 hours a day. I go to sleep at night and maybe at one o’clock or two o’clock in the morning, the relatives may call and request for me to remove the body from the hospital and take it home. I have to do it. So I cannot go out or come home drunk because I have to be here. It’s part of my service,” said Kumar, who runs perhaps the country’s oldest funerary service. 
Patton & Storck, he says, “has been around for a century” and the company was established by two brothers in law and catered mostly for the white colonial community in Fiji. 
Times have changed though.  The original owners have migrated and Kumar is now managing the business on their behalf. 
Like Tugi, he has also been hit by tough economic times and has relocated to his home in Vatuwaqa.
Patton & Storck now caters for the general public, with a promise to “provide your family with a service that maintains dignity at common sense prices.”
Unlike Tugi however, Kumar does not believe it’s a lucrative business.
“I think that’s false,” he argues. “Yes people die everyday but the cost of materials are very expensive in Fiji. If I go according to expenses, what I use is very expensive, like a pair of handles for the coffin can be around $90.
“If you work out the timber, well they have very expensive timbers nowadays, and if I calculate everything by paying the labour and paying my electricity bills, I don’t make much profit.
“Whatever I make just keeps me going. If I try to put the price up on my coffins, nobody is going to come back to me. So, there’s money in there but it is also a competitive business.”
Kumar, who started off at Patton & Storck as a ‘broom boy’ when he was 16, has spent some forty years with the company but, he says, everyday is just “business as usual.” 
Little has changed since he started his involvement with the dead, he smiles. His friend Vijendra Prasad agrees. Prasad is the managing director of Federal Funeral Directors based in Toorak. He has spent over 20 years in the family owned business.
From his observations, business has actually slowed but little has changed in the attitude of clients over their dead. Wanting the best for your departed loved ones, he argues, is a sentiment expressed by everyone regardless of ethnicity. 
His coffins come at “competitive prices,” from $180 to $700. While clients tend to choose according to affordability, he observes they would be willing to pay more for coffins they believe would suit their loved ones. Price was not often the major factor for their choices.  
“A coffin is a respectable thing in which to carry the human body,” says Prasad, who, in the course of his work, has taken a philosophical view of death itself.
“When a person dies, you cannot just dump him. When a person dies, he becomes more respectful than when he was alive. Even a person in jail is given a respectable burial when he dies, so we all know this is where we will end up—death is our final resting home.”

More can be done
And there is more that undertakers could offer to grieving relatives during such difficult times as the death of a loved one.
Most of them want to provide more, if only the authorities would allow them. Tugi for example, points out concerns shared by other funeral directors – the lack of morgue space and burial space in hospitals and cemeteries. 
“We had asked government if we could build our own morgue but there was no response from the health authorities. The morgue `condition` at CWMH is very poor. A few times, I’ve had to drive all the way to Sigatoka or Korovou to get a body to be buried in Suva. The bodies are taken all the way there because the Suva morgue is full.  This is added costs to the relatives of the deceased so this is an area that maybe the government should seriously look into.”
Patton & Storck, who is still awaiting the Suva City Council’s approval to operate from home, also wishes it could build a funeral parlour and a little chapel which it can offer as part of its service. 
“I have the land to build the facilities—all I need is approval from the Suva City Council,” says Kumar. 
Also a grave concern is the lack of available space in cemeteries in Suva, Vatuwaqa and Nasinu to cater for the growing urban population.