Gharam is an experience that mixes dervish twirling with both Islamic and Christian songs of praise.by Hader Farghaly
The followers of Sufism (Tasawuf), the mystical practice of Islam, believe that music has the power to transform the soul. When approached with purity and devotion, sound can bring humans closer to the divine. It is why people lose themselves in song, cry during worship, and reach ecstasy without consuming any substances.
Others claim that music distracts humans from the divine or feeds their ego; they might say it is especially forbidden during Ramadan. But in Egypt, music has always been an integral part of the Holy Month when people gather at night to be in community and deepen their spirituality.
“Both creation and Islam began with sound,” writes Egyptian Iraqi scholar and musician Dr. Ali Hussain. “The Divine Creative command Kun [Be] ushered life in the empty canvas of creation and, as Ibn al-‘Arabi states, also gave birth to the first instance of ṭarab (musical ecstasy) [...] Thus, Ibn al-‘Arabi emphasizes, God’s first movement of love towards us is speech and sound, while our first response of love towards Him is listening.”
From Sufi events to traditional music performances and modern concerts, Cairo’s rich sonic landscape swells to even higher frequencies during Ramadan. Regardless of whether you are a believer, a Muslim, a local, or a visitor, the spirit of Ramadan will catch you if only you open your ears to it. Not least when a group of men walks through your neighborhood shortly before iftar time, performing madeh to venerate the Prophet Mohammad with a mizmar, a tabla, and a singer.
Elsewhere in the city, the Mazaher are singing to the red spirits on a rooftop on the ancient mountain Moqattam. In the backyard of one of Islamic Cairo’s one-thousand-year-old buildings, Nuba Nour praise the prophet over four interlocking Nubian drum patterns. In a Jesuit Center somewhere deep in the city, Afnan Shaher twirls for one and a half hours to the voice of Alsheikh Sabry Salem and Rovan Hemaya.
The Arab Digital Expressions Fund in Moqattam hosted music nights every weekend through Ramadan.by Hader Farghaly
Many of these performances are special for their energy, not their planning. The members of Nuba Nour pause after every song to deliberate what to sing next. Their two dancers have not prepared choreography; they simply move and sing along, inviting the audience to join them in front of the musicians until every single person has gotten up to dance in a large circle.
Gharam
One of the most interesting events in Egypt this Ramadan was Hader Farghaly’s Gharam. Farghaly is a journalist and organizer; she hosts events that promote healing through art in her garden in Dahab. This March, she brought this intention to Cairo, creating Gharam and inviting listeners to immerse themselves in music about love for the divine, freedom, and the truest version of oneself.
Starting out with the oud, followed by the nay and percussion instruments, the singers’ voices carried the audience to a place that seemed to float far above the city, energized by Shaher’s never-ending twirls. People were mesmerized, clapping along, calling out to the singers, dancing, and smiling. Gharam was an experience of ṭarab.
“We all met for the first time on the day of the event,” Farghaly tells OkayAfrica. “We connected over iftar, and one hour before the event, I asked [Salem] what he’ll sing. He said Please let me do what I feel.’”
Farghaly had met each performer at a different time in her life, feeling a spiritual connection with all of them. Hemaya, with the angelic voice, is her flatmate. Salem is a well-known Maddah [religious singer] with a devoted following; Farghaly heard his voice in the streets of Cairo during the Mawlid celebration and followed it. Shaher is the founder of Dory, the first all-women whirling project in Egypt.
Every Gharam performance begins the same way and then grows into an experience that follows the performers’ intuition and improvisation.by Hader Farghaly
“In our culture, we usually mix mawlaweya [whirling dervishes] with inshad [the traditional Islamic art of vocal chanting or hymnody, focusing on devotional poetry, spiritual love, and praise of God and the Prophet Muhammad]. But Salem usually only works with men, because that’s the standard. It was very different to mix Shaher with Salem,” says Farghaly.
To further diversify the night, Hemaya sang Coptic Christian folklore and taranim [Christian devotional songs of praise] alongside Salem’s inshad. “Such an eclectic group, how did they even meet?” asked one Coptic attendee with a smile on her face. “When I post this on my IG, people will say, ‘what’s going on??’”
Farghaly felt that Ramadan was the perfect time to create such a performance. “It’s a spiritual concept, not a materialistic thing,” she says. “We didn’t think about money. We’re artists, and our connection with Gharam is spiritual; it comes from inside.”
At the same time, she knows the statement such a group makes, especially during the Holy Month. “In this time of war, there are countries trying to destroy our culture and make everything into one standard. We’re trying to resist this,” she says. “So even though we have short curly hair and tattoos and look different, we’re holding our culture and history inside of us in our own way.”
“I don’t see Gharam as a performance, but as a prayer for connection. It’s a message of all the souls that are trying to remember who they are and find God inside of them; the humans that decided not to go with the flow but choose their own way,” says Shaher.
“That’s Sufism for me: to go above any mortal thing that will end and connect with what’s behind the material things,” she continues. “There you’ll find a greater meaning that will help you overcome any weakness.”
In Downtown Cairo, the team at Underground Social offered an alternative Ramadan program at the French Institute. Co-founders Taymour Sharawy and Hossam Khaled have made it their mission to spotlight emerging visual and sound artists from mainly West Asia and Africa under the mantra “we will be seen, we will be heard.”
“I wanted to attend events that had substance, and there weren’t many, so we started doing them ourselves,” Sharawy tells OkayAfrica. “It’s a space to be and express yourself in a non-judgmental [environment]. There aren’t many places like that in Egypt.”
In the past four years, they have hosted the Nuits du Ramadan series at the French Institute, inviting people to enjoy a diverse music program for free. In February and March, they put on five concerts spanning several genres and languages. Their opening night was with French souffle collectif and local musicians such as Nancy Mounir, Ahmed Eid, and Salma Luka. Much like Gharam, the artists met during soundcheck and decided what to perform on the spot, improvising for over two hours and drawing the audience into their serendipitous magic.
“It’s not what you’d expect in a typical Ramadan night, not the classical songs and instruments,” says Sharawy. “We’re letting go of the norm. We’d much rather put someone like Huda Asfour in the lineup and expose people to something new, to look at the world differently.”
In his experience, putting on Ramadan concerts is not too different from the events UG Social organizes throughout the rest of the year. Upon further reflection, however, Sharawy notes that people are better behaved at Nuits du Ramadan, perhaps because of the institution they’re in or maybe because of the Holy Month.
“There’s an inherent air of spirituality in Ramadan. People tend to be overall lighter despite the fasting and the headaches throughout the day,” says Sharawy. “I think it’s because of this collective looking forward to iftar and spending the evening together. Everyone’s energy is channelled in the same direction, and somehow we’re all more aligned, even if you yourself are not practicing. But I think music is inherently spiritual in and of itself.”
Sharawy’s favorite moment this Ramadan did not happen during an event, but at home. “I got pretty emotional at one point, feeling proud of what we’d done, using our art and platform to provide relief from everything that’s happening,” he shares. “Seeing that we can do our thing and have an impact brings a sense of fulfilment and satisfaction.”
This relief might be in the form of getting people to actually stand up and move during a performance. “Sometimes people think they can’t dance during Ramadan, but it’s fun to see them get up and get hyped and have a good time,” he says.
Regardless of what one believes in or subscribes to, Cairo’s frequency has the ability to draw all kinds of people into its Ramadan magic. As the Holy Month concludes, the gatherings, connections, and collective care that took place during the past four weeks continue to reverberate through the city. Home to 22 million people, it is safe to say that at least a few souls have been transformed by music.
