Ramadan in Morocco: The Holy Month in the Mirror of Our Excesses... 444
As Ramadan is here, Morocco shifts its rhythm and clock. Streets slow down by day and light up at night. Mosques fill up, hearts tighten around the essentials: faith, patience, solidarity, piety.
*On paper, Ramadan is a month of restraint, piety, and self-focus. In economic reality, it paradoxically becomes a month of excess and waste. In fact, one must conclude with the paradox of the Moroccan table.*
A few hours before iftar, markets burst with activity. Bags overflow. Baskets grow heavy. Bills do too.
According to data from the High Commission for Planning, food already accounts for the largest share of Moroccan household budgets, especially for modest classes. **During Ramadan, food spending rises sharply, sometimes significantly, per consumption surveys, due to concentrated purchases over a short period and social pressure around the iftar table. Social pressure, but also pressure from the media, particularly television.Citizens are bombarded with messages promoting consumption as a marker of social success.** This translates to an 18% increase in spending. That's no small thing. It also means a sharp rise in demand for food products, not always necessities, putting upward pressure on prices.
Yet, a non-negligible portion of this food sadly ends up in the trash. Levels can be alarming. Dumpsters overflow with prepared foods, cakes, pastries, bread, and other flour, butter and sugar based preparations. **According to a FAO study, this waste can reach nearly 85%.** In other words, a citizen spending 1,000 dirhams on food staples throws away the equivalent of 850 dirhams as waste. Astonishing.
*Food waste in Morocco is structural, as highlighted by several FAO-backed studies. Ramadan amplifies it through multiplied dishes, domestic overproduction, impulse buys, and abundance seen as synonymous with hospitality and well-being.*
The paradox is cruel: at the very moment spirituality calls for moderation, society settles into a display of abundance, in response to a silent social pressure.
*Waste isn't just an economic issue. It's become cultural. Overall, a Moroccan citizen throws away about 132 kg of food per year, per a UNEP study. The FAO says 91 kg. Ramadan contributes significantly.*
**The ftour or Iftar table has become a space of social representation. Failing to multiply dishes is sometimes seen as a lack of generosity, even stinginess. Chebakia, briouates, harira, multiple juices: the implicit norm demands variety. People put on airs. Ramadan's founding values take a serious hit. Sobriety is forgotten.**
This pressure weighs even more on modest households, as recent years' food inflation has eroded purchasing power. When budgets are tight eleven months out of twelve, Ramadan becomes a month of disproportionate financial strain. The holy month turns into a tough budgetary equation.
The media have crafted a "Ramadan spectacle." At nightfall, a near-generalized ritual begins: television.
National channels concentrate their prime programming around the post-iftar slot. Light series, repetitive sitcoms, hidden cameras, family-oriented telefilms. All backed by unprecedented advertising bombardment. Ramadan has become peak advertising season.
Food ads multiply, processed products invade screens, and commercial logic overshadows educational or cultural missions. The month of spirituality becomes an audience battle.
Television doesn't create overconsumption alone, but it accompanies it, normalizes it, and sometimes celebrates it.
Spirituality is thus put to the test. Ramadan is meant to teach hunger to better understand those who suffer from lack. Yet the contrast is striking: while some families struggle to provide essentials, others throw away surpluses. This contradiction raises questions about the responsibility of public authorities and media figures.
Morocco isn't alone. In several Muslim countries, international organizations warn annually about the waste peak during the holy month. It's a recurring issue in regional public policies.
But beyond the numbers, the question is moral: how to reconcile fasting and excess? How to preach restraint while practicing abundance? How to refocus the holy month?
The solution isn't guilt-tripping or punitive. It's cultural. The duty today is to:
- Rehabilitate simplicity in religious discourse.
- Value modest tables as a sign of awareness, not poverty.
- Encourage food redistribution initiatives.
- Rebalance audiovisual programming with more educational, social, and spiritual content.
Ramadan doesn't need to be spectacular to be intense. It doesn't need to be costly to be noble. It doesn't need to be abundant to be generous.
Ultimately, the question isn't just economic. It's existential:
Do we want to *live* Ramadan... or *consume* it?
**Waste is unacceptable. Religion explicitly condemns it.**