It is three weeks to your birthday. You have sent out those birthday party invitations, included detailed directions to the venue, promised there would be jollof rice and small chops, and even hired a DJ.

But the result is quite disappointing. Five confirmed attendees, twelve "Let me check my schedule" responses (meaning: not coming), and your mother asking if she can bring her women's fellowship group.

But your funeral? That place is gonna be packed. People standing, people outside in the compound and an invitation won’t be needed. And that is just the sad reality.

The uncomfortable truth is that death is a better party planner than you will ever be. Your funeral will have people you have never met, distant cousins from the village, and that neighbour who never greeted you while you were alive.

Here is why your final send-off will have better attendance than any celebration you throw while breathing.

Reason 1: Guilt is a Powerful Motivator

When someone invites you to their birthday party, you run a quick mental calculation: Do I like this person enough to give up my Saturday evening? Will there be anyone else I know there? Can I get away with just a card and a gift box?

Birthday parties are optional social obligations with multiple acceptable escape routes. "I have a prior commitment" works. "I'm not feeling well" works.

Funerals, however, operate on an entirely different social contract. Missing someone's funeral brands you as a shameless person that no amount of explanations can erase.

It does not matter if you barely keep in touch with the person, if you have a legitimate conflict, or if you are genuinely terrified of open caskets. The guilt will find you.

It will haunt you at 3 a.m. when you are scrolling through Instagram and you come across an old post. It will whisper to you every time someone mentions the deceased's name.

The deceased has become the ultimate guilt-trip artist, wielding their own mortality as leverage. And unlike your birthday invitation, they won't be around to hear your excuses.

Everyone knows this, which is why they show up. You can't disappoint a corpse, but you can certainly disappoint everyone else by not paying your respects.

Reason 2: Free Food Hits Different When It's Somber

Let's talk about catering. At your birthday party, people expect cake, even if it is a bento cake. Small chops might work and jollof rice might likely be optional. It does not have to be something elaborate, just enough for everyone to snack on.

But, funeral receptions? That is where the culinary magic happens. If the deceased is Yoruba, you are most likely to start with mouth-watering palm-oil fried akara. Then, the jollof rice, the amala, the iyan and many more is most likely to be on the menu for the day.

Asides the packed menu, there is also something beautifully honest about funeral food. No one's trying to impress anyone. No one's counting calories.

It is comfort food in its purest form, served with the understanding that everyone present is having a rough day and deserves that second helping of jollof rice.

Reason 3: You Can't Ghost a Corpse

The underrated aspect of funeral attendance is that the guest of honour won't notice if you slip out early, avoid eye contact, or spend the entire time awkwardly standing in the corner.

The birthday person, however, will absolutely notice that you arrived fashionably late, didn't sing during the birthday song, and left before the cake cutting. They will remember. They might cut you off or bring it up at the next social gathering.

This creates a paradox where funerals are actually lower-pressure social events than birthday parties. Sure, the emotional stakes are higher, but the social performance requirements are lower.

You can show up, express condolences with the phrase you asked Chat-Gpt on the way over, eat some food, and leave without anyone judging you for not staying until midnight.

The deceased won't be offended. They won't post passive-aggressive Instagram stories about fair-weather friends.

They won't remember who cried the hardest or who brought the nicest flowers. This freedom from judgment ironically makes people more willing to attend. It is the ultimate low-commitment social obligation that somehow carries maximum social credit.

Reason 4: FOMO Doesn't Apply to the Dead

Birthdays are annual events, which psychologically gives people permission to skip them. "I'll catch the next one," we tell ourselves, fully believing we will be more available, more energetic, more fun next year.

We believe that there will always be another birthday party, another cake, another awkward rendition of that song we all pretend to know the words to.

Funerals, however, operate on the scarcity principle. This is it. The finale. The last episode of a series that doesn't get renewed.

You either show up or you miss your only chance to pay respects, to say goodbye, to be part of this person's final chapter. That one-time-only pressure is incredibly effective at filling seats.

There is also an element of social proof at play. Everyone else will be at the funeral, which means if you are not there, your absence will be conspicuous.

FOMO works in reverse; instead of fear of missing a good time, it is the fear of being the one person who didn't care enough to show up.

Reason 5: Crying is Socially Acceptable

Perhaps the most overlooked reason funerals attract crowds is that they give us permission to feel things publicly. Modern life does not offer many socially sanctioned spaces for emotional vulnerability.

Crying at your birthday party raises eyebrows and concerned questions. Crying at a funeral? That is just called "attending a funeral."

Funerals are one of the few remaining cultural spaces where expressing genuine emotion isn't just accepted but expected. You can be sad, angry, confused, or even relieved without anyone asking if you are okay or suggesting you see a therapist.

There is comfort in collective grief, in knowing everyone else in the room is processing something heavy too.

Birthday parties, by contrast, demand performance. You must be happy, grateful, enthusiastic. You must smile for photos and pretend you love that gift card to a restaurant you'll never visit. The emotional labour required is exhausting, which makes people want to avoid them.

The Uncomfortable Conclusion

So yes, your funeral will probably have better attendance than your birthday party, and that is both darkly funny and profoundly sad. Perhaps the real takeaway here isn't about death at all, but about how we treat the living.

We save our flowers, our best meals, and our guaranteed attendance for when it is too late for any of it to matter.

Maybe we should treat the people in our lives with the same urgency we show the dead. Show up to their birthday parties. Bring that banging jollof. Make them feel valued before their absence becomes permanent.

Or, you know, just take comfort in knowing that when your time comes, the turnout will be fantastic.