Three years ago, I was privileged to spend the Ramadan fasting period in this remarkable city. That year, Ramadan coincided with the Easter and Lent periods, and I shared my impressions of this extraordinary place with readers. I recall noting the harmony and tolerance that allowed minority Christian groups to hold street processions celebrating Easter, as well as the city’s orderliness and the abundance of historical monuments that attracted millions of visitors from all over the world.  This time, I have another opportunity to be in Cairo for some weeks and have found a few more things to share.

I flew out in early February when the controversy of shutting down schools throughout Ramadan in some Northern states was raging. I filed the issue in the recesses of my mind as one of those things to look out for. Truly, when I settled down and fasting had started, I looked out. I lived on the 6th of October City, a Cairo suburb. There were several schools and universities in the vicinity, and the first chance one morning I had, I looked out to find schoolchildren walking down the street. As you would expect, they were all primmed up, heaving school bags, chatting excitedly, on their way to school.

Later in the afternoon, I watched the self-same procession, which repeated itself in the evening. The schools were, for all purposes, working here. On further inquiry, I learnt that rather than close schools here, they adjusted the school timings to make it convivial for both students to avoid the tough evening times. Some of the schools and universities even provided evening meals for those students who had to remain till the close of day.

All this made one wonders why we had to close schools in some parts of the North during Ramadan. I grew up in Maiduguri in the late 1950s and went to primary school in the early 1960s. Most of the people went about their daily affairs barefoot. We went to school barefoot and endured the torrid sun Maiduguri was endowed with. There were no school closures during Ramadan, and happily enough, Borno did not join that bandwagon. I hope next year there will be some soul-searching from the offices of those who initiated this policy.

Ramadan in Cairo can be exhilarating. Here, Ramadan is celebrated throughout the month. I lived in a row of rectangular buildings with flats rising to six or seven floors. This is typical of these sights, and you could see a replication in all the clusters of cities springing up around Cairo. In this period, here, whole streets and buildings were gaily covered with elaborate buntings welcoming the month. Normally, most of the city is quiet in the morning apart from schoolchildren activity, the streets are almost bare, with only a few groceries in action. However, as the evening harkened, the city stirred. All shops have come alive, and the streets are once more clogged with vehicles, even though driving here is hardly without rancour. There is a great deal of civility among drivers here.

By the time of Iftar, the Ramadan evening mealtime, approaches, the streets would be so full of people that you would think everybody was out there. The restaurants that lined the streets had their tables all decked out under brilliant lights, would be crowded with farers. You can bet that there would be a lot of eating and drinking tea here till far into the night. However, the most telling feature of Iftar is what one uncovers away from these gaudy lights. There is joy of giving and sharing that permeates the whole breadth of society. At mosques, there would be a lot of sharing of food and drinks. As there is probably a mosque on every street, the sharing of food and drinks goes along imperturbably, without the hassle you watch in our climes. When you go around the neighbourhood, you find houses and even corner shops leaving neatly covered food and drinks for those in need.

The communality of sharing goes beyond the precincts of the mosques. It goes into the community, where during the Iftar period, there is a lot of community engagement. Everybody seemed to be engaging in a festivity of sorts. Shops and supermarkets temporarily lock their doors to treat all the employees at Iftar. I walked to a supermarket for a small purchase. I found it under lock but with all the lights on. From where I stood in the foyer, I could see the employees gathering around a makeshift table full of bowls of food and vegetables, a sure sign that a feast was going on. You can also run into streets where all the neighbours would be out with their carpets and lamps breaking fast together. That’s how Iftar was celebrated in our communities before years of insecurity brought us to this sorry pass. It was communal, and it was joyful.

Away from Cairo, I know that back home, there has been heavy involvement of governments and mosques feeding large numbers during Ramadan. It is all well and good if it is well coordinated and supervised. However, I would like to see communities own up to these feeding programs and internalize them. When done properly, it will all add up to the joys of Iftar during Ramadan. I wish our readers a happy Eid Mabrouk.