“Lori Iro” At Funerals: The Hypocrisy Of Posthumous Praise -By Isaac Asabor

In Nigeria’s contemporary culture, a funeral is no longer merely a solemn ceremony to honour the dead, it has become a grand stage for performative storytelling, exaggerated virtues, and outright lies. The Yoruba phrase “Lori Iro”, meaning “based on lies”, has never been more apt than when used to describe the farcical eulogies delivered at many Nigerian funerals. This growing trend of hypocritical posthumous praise is not just disingenuous; it is morally corrosive.

Time and again, we see society transform the lives of the deceased into fiction. Suddenly, individuals who were known in their communities for cruelty, neglect, or corruption become “angels,” “heroes,” and “philanthropists.” Relatives and acquaintances who had long abandoned the person in life now drape themselves in flamboyant “Aso Ebi”, mouthing off speeches they never lived by.

Where were all these loving relatives and devoted friends when the deceased needed help, companionship, or forgiveness? Where were the tributes when the person was alone, sick, struggling, or in need of encouragement? In death, suddenly the absence of love and accountability is covered with poetic lies and empty flattery, Lori Iro!

We live in a culture that celebrates perception over principle. A man who lived a selfish, arrogant life is described as “humble.” A woman who tormented her family with bitterness and neglect is suddenly “a mother to all.” Public officeholders who looted state coffers and oppressed the weak are hailed as “nation-builders.” This sanitization of character is not about love, it is about guilt, fear, and image management.

Families often lead this charge. Whether out of shame, social pressure, or the desire to rewrite history, they allow or even initiate false narratives about their departed loved ones. Clergymen, instead of speaking truth or exercising restraint, often join in, offering sermons that suggest every soul is heaven-bound regardless of how they lived.

It is a collective delusion, a theatre of falsehood where truth is buried deeper than the casket. Some defend this trend by saying, “We should not speak ill of the dead.” But does that justify lying? Is it respect to ignore the pain someone inflicted in life, simply because they have died? Is it love to gaslight the survivors of abuse, neglect, and trauma, by praising their abuser with words that erase the hurt?

This culture of posthumous lies does not only insult the truth, it traumatizes those who were wronged. Imagine a widow who suffered domestic abuse listening to a pastor declare her husband “a great man of peace.” Or children who never knew a father’s love, hearing him described as “devoted and selfless.” Such contradictions not only invalidate real experiences, but also make healing more difficult.

The motivations behind this mass deception are clear. There is fear, fear of being labelled disrespectful or heartless for refusing to pretend. There is guilt, guilt from not being present or supportive when the deceased was alive. There is image consciousness, the need to appear gracious or noble, even if it means denying reality.

But in doing so, we are building a culture where truth doesn’t matter, where death is a PR campaign, and where evil is excused with good grammar and glossy brochures.

It is this same mindset that allows corrupt politicians to imagine that they will be immortalized with statues and airports, despite decades of betrayal and exploitation. It is the same spirit that lets abusive family members cry crocodile tears at gravesides they never visited during the deceased’s life.

What we must understand is this: the truth may be uncomfortable, but lies are destructive. Lies distort history. They send the wrong signals to the living. They make people believe that no matter how badly you treat others, someone will eventually sing your praises, “Lori Iro”.

The Bible is unambiguous. Galatians 6:7 says, “Do not be deceived: God is not mocked. For whatever a man sows that shall he also reap.” And Hebrews 9:27 reminds us, “It is appointed unto men once to die, and after this, the judgment.” In other words, your funeral tribute will not save you from the truth of your actions.

God is not swayed by designer caskets, expensive wreaths, or choir performances. He sees the heart. He knows the motive. The Judge of all flesh is not a mourner at your wake; He is the final authority on your life.

So what should we do? We must stop living for posthumous applause and start living with purpose. Be the person today that you want to be remembered as tomorrow. Let your kindness be felt in real time. Call that family member. Visit that old friend. Apologize to that person you hurt. Give without announcing. Help without expecting applause.

If you want to be remembered as loving, then love now. Do not expect someone to lie about your generosity when you hoarded wealth like a miser. Don’t hope to be described as humble when arrogance was your trademark.

Religious leaders must also rise to the occasion. Funerals are not PR gigs. Pastors and Imams must resist the pressure to whitewash sin in the name of comfort. Offer the family solace without desecrating the truth. Speak with compassion, yes, but not with falsehood. Silence is a dignified option when honesty would hurt.

Ultimately, there is a better way to honor the dead, with honesty, grace, and integrity. You do not have to spill all their flaws, but you also should not fabricate virtues. Describe them as they were: flawed, human, sometimes great, sometimes not. Acknowledge complexity. It is far more respectful to speak the truth gently than to lie loudly.

In the end, “Lori Iro” may impress the guests at a funeral, but it will never rewrite God’s record. Your deeds are your eulogy. Your character is your legacy. And your truth, not the sugar-coated version, is what will echo in eternity.

Let us abandon the theatre of falsehood. Let us bury this culture of hypocritical praise. And let us build a society where truth is honored in both life and death. That, indeed, is the only kind of tribute that truly matters.