“I can’t wait for the sheep to die,” my friend confessed, with what can only be described as a sheepish smile. “Every morning when the first call to prayer starts at sunrise, they ‘baa’ right outside my window. But it isn’t cute; they sound like old men trying to scream and gargle water at the same time.”
Although I can’t attest to the accuracy of this comparison, the grunting and bleating of sheep were the soundtrack to my life during my first month in Dakar. Sheep were everywhere. They lined the streets, filled entire buses, and rode on the roofs of cars as everyone scrambled to buy and sell sheep for Tabaski (known outside of Francophone West Africa as Eid al-Adha).
The festival is celebrated internationally to mark the end of the hajj and commemorate Abraham’s willingness to sacrifice his only son to God. Judaism, Christianity, and Islam all recognize Abraham as their first prophet and derive their beginnings from his story of submission and faith. Islam is unique, however, in that it is the only one of the three major monotheistic religions to observe a holiday in honor of Abraham’s devotion. All Muslim adults who are able to afford a sacrificial animal (such as a goat, sheep, camel, or cow) are required to perform a sacrifice and distribute the meat among family, friends, and those in need.
In Senegal, Tabaski has a dramatic effect on the market for sheep and regional trade. The demand for sheep surges during the weeks leading up to Tabaski; according to my economics professor, Senegalese bought 750,000 sheep this year. Although Senegal has a robust livestock farming industry, domestic supply cannot keep up with demand. Thus, Senegal relies on neighboring countries such as Mali and Mauritania to import sheep and keep prices from skyrocketing. In order to facilitate this regional sheep trade, Senegal temporarily suspends import taxes on livestock and provides free water to traders along Senegal’s borders. Even with these measures to ensure a sufficient and affordable sheep supply, sheep are extremely expensive, and prices for a single sheep range between 50,000 CFA (about $100) to 200,000 CFA (about $400). However, because sheep have become a status symbol, size matters; “elite” bigger, stronger sheep can cost thousands of U.S. dollars. For context, the World Bank measured Senegal’s Gross National Income per capita to be $1,000 in 2015. Many Senegalese therefore take out loans to buy impressive sheep for their families.
Given these exorbitant prices, I’m glad that I didn’t have to worry about haggling for sheep and could just enjoy the festivities. And enjoy them I did. When I woke up on the morning of Tabaski, the happy, excited energy of my host family reminded me of Christmas morning. The big event happened during breakfast, about a foot away from where I was eating breakfast, to be precise. My host brothers killed our five sheep quickly, blood flowing down the drain in the dining room. I closed my eyes during the slaughter because blood makes me queasy, not because I felt bad for the sheep like some of my friends. The sheep in Senegal are raised outside and are killed in a halal, humane way, which is better than how most livestock are treated in the factory farming industry in the United States. While my host brothers skinned and cut apart the sheep, my host sisters started grilling the meat, which would be served throughout the day with fries, onion sauce, and mustard. Everyone then dressed up in their fanciest clothes and went around the neighborhood to socialize with friends and family for the rest of the day.
After Tabaski, I saw this really interesting New York Times article about Eid al-Adha potentially falling on 9/11 and how that would have affected Muslim Americans. I discussed the article with my host father, and he agreed with the author, explaining, “Here in Senegal, the population is 90 percent Muslim, and we respect Christians and other minorities because we are all Senegalese. Muslim Americans are Americans; they should be able to observe Tabaski while also remembering 9/11. It’s a question of tolerance and respect.”
Overall, celebrating Tabaski with my host family was an amazing experience because it enabled me to learn more about Islam, Senegalese culture, and, of course, sheep.
Opens in a new window