31/10/2025
Life in the Shadow of Death
Losing a loved one is undeniably one of the hardest chapters in a person’s journey. And in every passing, there is always a coffin serving as the final home of a soul.
Yet, we rarely ask: Who are the hands that shape these homes? Who are the people who face death every day not as an ending, but as a means of living?
With every cut of wood and every nail driven, there is silence. Inside a humble workshop in the town of San Matias, Pampanga, men and women quietly build coffins not for themselves, but for others.
One of them is Jona Lascano, who learned the craft of coffin-making from her uncle when she was young.
“Nagsimula ako dalaga pa lang, halos 20 years na din,” (“I started when I was still single—almost 20 years now,”) she said, while fixing the lid of a coffin.
For Jona, every piece of wood she touches carries a story, a farewell, a final moment.
Working beside her is Jericho, who has been crafting coffins for eight years. He learned the trade from his father, who once taught him that poverty can be overcome through perseverance, a lesson he now applies as he works to provide for his own children.
To them, the coffin is not a symbol of misfortune. It is a way of preserving life in the shadow of death.
In the nearby town of Paombong, the M.A. Nunag Funeral Home Service and Metal Casket stands as a testament to resilience. It is owned by the couple Arnel and Malou Nunag.
Like Jona and Jericho, the couple also began as ordinary workers, once employees in a coffin workshop owned by Arnel’s wedding godfather, who was also his former employer.
But life’s hardships pushed them to start their own workshop.
“Na-realize namin ng asawa ko, bandang 2011, maliit na ang sweldo ng mister ko. Sabi ko, ‘Hindi puwedeng ganito. Ano’ng gagawin natin?’ Kaya sinabi ko sa kanya, bakit hindi na lang tayo magpaalam sa ninang na mag-solo ng paggawa ng casket,”
(“My husband and I realized around 2011 that his salary was too small. I told him, ‘We can’t live like this. What should we do?’ So I said, why don’t we ask permission from our godmother to start our own casket-making business?”) shared Malou Nunag, smiling as she recalled those early days.
The beginning was not easy. But with determination, they slowly built their business, which now has two branches in addition to their main office in Paombong. Ironically, they are now the suppliers of coffins to the funeral home once owned by Arnel’s former boss.
In their eyes, a coffin is not a symbol of finality.
It is a reminder of lives that once loved, cared, and are now being given a dignified rest.
They are the people who meet death every day not to embrace it, but to give it a form of respect.
While the world rushes to keep up with life, they quietly build its resting places faces behind the coffins, hands that carve rest for others while continuing to fight for their own tomorrow.
Via Jasmine Bongcayao, The Axis.