Executive Funeral Services.

Executive Funeral Services. Contact information, map and directions, contact form, opening hours, services, ratings, photos, videos and announcements from Executive Funeral Services., Funeral service & cemetery, Kisii.

We operate in Kisii, Kisumu, and Nairobi, and we offer the following services:
-Coffins
-Hearse services
-Photography & Videography
-Suits & Gowns
-Tents & Seating arrangements

Let’s speak plainly about death in Kenya. When it happens, grief is rarely the only burden. Families are suddenly pushed...
12/05/2026

Let’s speak plainly about death in Kenya. When it happens, grief is rarely the only burden. Families are suddenly pushed into calls, contributions, transport, mortuary arrangements, programme planning, food, tents, service providers, and decisions nobody is emotionally ready to make. Promises come slowly. WhatsApp groups get noisy, then quiet. And in the middle of it all, the family is expected to stay strong while carrying both sorrow and logistics.

That is the gap π‘­π’‚π’“π’Šπ’‹π’Š π‘Ίπ’‰π’Šπ’†π’π’… was built to close. This is not a last-minute harambee message when the family is already exhausted. Once you are registered, it steps in when you lose a loved one and helps organize the funeral support you need with dignity, speed, and order. We handle the heavy work so the family can focus on what matters most: mourning, praying, receiving visitors, and honoring the person they have lost.

Grief is heavy enough. It should not come with confusion, begging, and humiliation. Fariji gives families peace when they need it most. Register by sending a WhatsApp message to 0769 372 750 or visit www.fariji.org. Ensure support is only one call away when your family needs it most.

Some lives become the quiet foundation on which whole families learn how to stand. Wilkster Bonareri Bosire was one of t...
11/05/2026

Some lives become the quiet foundation on which whole families learn how to stand. Wilkster Bonareri Bosire was one of those lives, a woman shaped by faith, hard work, humility, and the steady love that holds a home together through many seasons. Born in 1942 in Kitutu Masaba, she grew into a woman of grace and responsibility, a devoted wife, mother, grandmother, great-grandmother, farmer, businesswoman, and faithful member of Nyambaria Seventh-day Adventist Church. Her hands worked the soil, her heart welcomed people, and her wisdom kept peace within the family and community. Even in her final years, when illness slowly weakened her body, the strength of her spirit remained clear in the love of those who cared for her and the memories she leaves behind. We were honored to walk with the Bosire family as they prepared a dignified farewell for their beloved mother, helping them celebrate a life well lived with care, order, and compassion. May God comfort the family, may her legacy continue through the generations she nurtured, and may Mama Wilkster rest in eternal peace. πŸ•ŠοΈπŸ€πŸ™πŸ½

π‡πšπ©π©π² πŒπ¨π­π‘πžπ«β€™π¬ πƒπšπ² 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐑𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐭𝐑𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐒𝐧 π‡πžπšπ―πžπ§πŸŒΉπŸ•ŠοΈSome of us no longer buy flowers for Mother’s Day.We carry them to graves....
10/05/2026

π‡πšπ©π©π² πŒπ¨π­π‘πžπ«β€™π¬ πƒπšπ² 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐑𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐭𝐑𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐒𝐧 π‡πžπšπ―πžπ§πŸŒΉπŸ•ŠοΈ
Some of us no longer buy flowers for Mother’s Day.
We carry them to graves.
We whisper the words into the air
and hope somehow, somewhere,
our mothers hear us.

Because what is a mother, really,
if not the first home we ever knew?
The first voice that called us by name.
The first hand that held us
before the world knew what to do with us.

And then one day, she is gone.
Just like that.
Her chair is empty.
Her phone number still sits in your contacts
like a wound you cannot delete.
Her leso, her Bible, her handbag,
her old sweater with that familiar smell,
all remain behind
like small stubborn evidence
that love once lived here.

You miss her in strange places.
Not only at the grave.
You miss her when food tastes almost right
but not quite.
When something good happens
and she is the first person you want to tell.
When life becomes hard
and you realize nobody prays for you
quite like your mother did.

So Happy Mother’s Day
to the mothers who now live beyond our reach.
To the women who raised us with tired hands,
quiet prayers, hard truths,
and love that survived even their own pain.
To the mothers whose voices still guide us,
whose warnings still save us,
whose laughter still returns
when the house grows too quiet.

We are still your children.
Even here.
Even grown.
Even broken by missing you.

And maybe that is the mercy of love:
death can take the body,
but it cannot take the habits of the heart.
We still hear you.
We still carry you.
We still become you in small ways
without noticing.

Happy Mother’s Day, Mama.
Rest where pain cannot reach you.
Your work is still alive in us. πŸ•ŠοΈπŸ€

🌹 π‘‡π‘œ π‘’π‘£π‘’π‘Ÿπ‘¦ π‘ π‘œπ‘’π‘™ π‘šπ‘–π‘ π‘ π‘–π‘›π‘” π‘‘β„Žπ‘’π‘–π‘Ÿ π‘šπ‘œπ‘‘β„Žπ‘’π‘Ÿ π‘‘π‘œπ‘‘π‘Žπ‘¦β€”π‘¦π‘œπ‘’ π‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘’ π‘›π‘œπ‘‘ π‘Žπ‘™π‘œπ‘›π‘’. π‘†β„Žπ‘’ 𝑙𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑠 𝑖𝑛 π‘¦π‘œπ‘’ 𝑠𝑑𝑖𝑙𝑙, 𝑖𝑛 π‘’π‘£π‘’π‘Ÿπ‘¦ 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑙𝑒 π‘‘β„Žπ‘–π‘›π‘” π‘¦π‘œπ‘’ π‘‘π‘œ.

10/05/2026

You have buried too many people in the last few years to still pretend that life is long. It isn’t. It is laughably short, and most of us are wasting it on things that will not fit in the coffin. One day, people will gather around your name and speak well of you, because funerals are generous like that. They are full of polished speeches, careful omissions, and grief dressed for public viewing. But that is not the real eulogy. The real eulogy happens later. In the kitchen. In the car. Three years from now, when your daughter burns the onions and laughs because that is exactly how you used to do it. When your son ties his child’s tie and realizes his hands have become your hands. When someone says β€œmy friend” in your voice and the room goes quiet for a second. That is what survives. Not your title. Not your car. Not the WhatsApp arguments with people who may not even come to your burial. What remains is the texture of how you made people feel.

So ask yourself, if you died tonight, what would your people miss? Your achievements will grow cold with your LinkedIn profile. Your plots will change hands. Your clothes will be folded into bags. But would they miss your voice? Your kindness? Your stubbornness? The way you showed up, or the way you always had an excuse? Whether you know it or not, you are writing your obituary every day, in real time, through every call ignored, every grudge carried, every apology postponed, every β€œI love you” swallowed by pride. What is life, man, if the people who knew us best must struggle to find one soft memory when we are gone? Travel light. Forgive where you can. Call your mother. Make peace with your father, even if he was difficult, especially if he was difficult. Stop accumulating things you cannot take with you and start leaving moments other people can keep. Because when the soil is poured, the tents come down, and the mourners return to their lives, the only thing standing between you and erasure is the quality of memories you left behind. Make them good ones. Make them worth keeping. πŸ•ŠοΈ

Today, we join family, friends, and loved ones in laying Mama Osebe Motondi to rest, with hearts made heavy by the silen...
08/05/2026

Today, we join family, friends, and loved ones in laying Mama Osebe Motondi to rest, with hearts made heavy by the silence her passing has left behind. Her absence will be felt in the small, familiar places where love often lives β€” in the morning routines, in the shared laughter, in the gentle presence that made home feel whole. Mama Osebe’s life was a gift carried through kindness, strength, patience, and the quiet dignity with which she touched those around her. As grief moves through the family like a tide, we stand with them in prayer and compassion, honoring a woman whose story will not end with this farewell. May the earth receive her gently, and may her memory remain alive in every heart she loved, every life she shaped, and every season that carries her name forward. πŸ•ŠοΈ

𝑭𝒐𝒓 π‘©π’‚π’ƒπ’š π‘¨π’…π’Šπ’†π’ πŸ•ŠοΈSome goodbyes are too heavy for words. Some names are too tender to say out loud. Adiel is one of them....
06/05/2026

𝑭𝒐𝒓 π‘©π’‚π’ƒπ’š π‘¨π’…π’Šπ’†π’ πŸ•ŠοΈ
Some goodbyes are too heavy for words. Some names are too tender to say out loud. Adiel is one of them. You came into this world small and perfect, wrapped in the kind of love that only a long-awaited child receives. You were your parents' joy, their answered prayer, their reason to wake up smiling. In your short time here, you taught the people who loved you what it means to hold something preciousβ€”how to slow down, how to memorize a face, how to fall completely and helplessly in love with a tiny human who hadn't yet spoken a word.

You will not get to grow into the boy your parents imagined. You will not chase footballs in the yard or come home from school with grass-stained knees. You will not learn to write your own name or laugh at your father's terrible jokes. And that is the cruelest part of all of thisβ€”not just that you are gone, but that all the versions of who you were going to become are gone with you. πŸ’”

But Adiel, sweet boy, please know this: you were not here for nothing. You were here long enough to be adored. Long enough to make your parents into a mother and father. Long enough to be photographed, sung to, prayed over, and held against the chest of people who would have given anything to keep you. Your tiny life rearranged the hearts of everyone it touched, and those hearts will never go back to the shape they were in before you.

You will live on in the way your parents love. In the way they speak your name. In the way they pause at the sight of other little boys with cheeks like yours. In the way they will, one day, find the courage to laugh againβ€”and feel you laughing with them. πŸŒ…
Rest gently, sweet one. πŸ‘Ό
You were loved.
You are loved.
You will always be loved.
Until we meet again, baby Adiel. πŸ’œ

Mama Josephine Mogere Ombui lived as a woman of love, strength, faith, and service. She was a devoted wife, mother, in-l...
06/05/2026

Mama Josephine Mogere Ombui lived as a woman of love, strength, faith, and service. She was a devoted wife, mother, in-law, grandmother, friend, and hardworking business lady whose kindness touched many homes. Her family remembers her as a source of peace, guidance, encouragement, and unconditional love. Though her passing has left a painful silence, her life remains a beautiful lesson in resilience, generosity, and faith in God. May her family find comfort in the memories they shared, strength in the love she gave, and peace in knowing that her legacy will continue to live on through all who knew and loved her. Rest in eternal peace, Mama Josephine. πŸ™πŸ½πŸ•ŠοΈ

Address

Kisii

Telephone

+254769372750

Website

https://youtube.com/@executivefuneralserviceskisii?si=UChpDV-fhgTj7QUt

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