Back in 2005, Muhammad Ahmad told the BBC that: "Rather than being a joy, to listen to the call to prayer is a daily torture to the ears." I could deeply sympathise with the description of the morning prayers given by Ahmad, a Cairo resident. My apartment is directly opposite a mosque and the morning call to prayer manages to rip into my sleep even with ear plugs firmly implanted (yes, yes, I know such firm implanation can't be good for the ears... but severe lack of sleep will also have bad effects...).The BBC describes beautifully how:
"Just before dawn, Cairo resident Muhammad Ahmad is jolted out of his peaceful sleep by a thunderous azan, or call to prayer, roaring out from huge speakers attached to a very modest mosque two streets away.
A few moments later a second, even louder muezzin's voice joins in - not in time or in tune with the first call to prayer - summoning him to do his duty, this time at the local prayer hall just around the corner.
Over the next few minutes, at least half a dozen other voices of varying tunefulness join in - distorting the sound of the azans and making them sound like a military order.
Being invited to rise and pray is one thing, but discordant bellowing is quite another. ...
"Just before dawn, Cairo resident Muhammad Ahmad is jolted out of his peaceful sleep by a thunderous azan, or call to prayer, roaring out from huge speakers attached to a very modest mosque two streets away.
A few moments later a second, even louder muezzin's voice joins in - not in time or in tune with the first call to prayer - summoning him to do his duty, this time at the local prayer hall just around the corner.
Over the next few minutes, at least half a dozen other voices of varying tunefulness join in - distorting the sound of the azans and making them sound like a military order.
Being invited to rise and pray is one thing, but discordant bellowing is quite another. ...
"Some of the mosques blast not just the roughly dozen sentences of the call itself," he wrote, "but all of the verses and actual prayers intoned by the local imam."
When all the local mosques do the same thing competing with one another in volume, what should be an announcement lasting at most two minutes goes on for 45 minutes, keeping the entire neighbourhood in a state of high alert.
"I'm not an irreligious man," he explains.
"But there were no loudspeakers at the time of the Prophet. Now, rather than being a joy, to listen to the call to prayer is a daily torture to the ears."
When all the local mosques do the same thing competing with one another in volume, what should be an announcement lasting at most two minutes goes on for 45 minutes, keeping the entire neighbourhood in a state of high alert.
"I'm not an irreligious man," he explains.
"But there were no loudspeakers at the time of the Prophet. Now, rather than being a joy, to listen to the call to prayer is a daily torture to the ears."
The main point of the article is to describe the controversy that arose in 2005 when the Ministry of Religious Endowments attempted to unify the call for prayer and have it broadcast from one spot. The opposition was allegedly huge, with citizens claiming that America had backed this idea (to silence radical muezzins in individual mosques), or that the Egyptian government was attempting to get its own message across by destroying the range of calls given by different muezzins.
So, 2 years later, nothing is resolved. And many people living in Cairo (yes, that would include me!) are left to suffer through a microphoned cacophony of tuneless prayers.
