The Cherished Role of the ‘Naffar’ During Ramadan

In the early mornings when the world sleeps, the Naffar walks the streets, a storyteller with no words, just a horn and a melody carved into history.

Fez – With every Ramadan, the old cities in Morocco come alive with sounds that only belong to this holy month.

Kids open their eyes to melodies they don’t hear any other time of the year. That sound brings joy, excitement, and a special kind of warmth to Ramadan nights. And when we talk about Ramadan traditions in Morocco, we can’t skip the “Naffar.”

The Naffar walks through the narrow streets, holding his long copper horn. He wears the traditional Moroccan djellaba, a red tarbouch hat, and yellow belgha (traditional shoes). His presence isn’t just a job, it’s a piece of who we are, a piece of our history that refuses to disappear.

Naffar’s role is simple but beautiful. He wakes people up for suhoor, just like the “Mesaharati” in other Arab countries. But in Morocco, the Naffar stands alone.

This is the only job in the country that exists for just one month every year. The moment Eid is announced, the Naffar disappears until the next Ramadan. His role is sacred, even with all the modern ways people can wake up now.

For decades, the Naffar has been part of Moroccan Ramadan nights. His work started with pure intention, volunteering to wake up his neighbors for suhoor. And after a month of service, he walks around to collect small gifts and tips, a thank you for his efforts.

The word “Naffar” itself comes from the instrument he plays , a long brass horn. But it also has roots in the Arabic word “Nafir,” meaning a call or alarm to gather people. This name fits perfectly because that’s exactly what the Naffar does, he gathers the spirit of Ramadan in his melodies.

Even today, some Naffars refuse to let this tradition die. They hold on to their fathers’ and grandfathers’ legacy, not because it pays well, but because they love it.

Even if they only get a few coins, they still walk the streets with pride, making sure this art, this memory, and this feeling never fades.

Some cities still use fire cannons from old towers to announce iftar or suhoor, but no sound can replace Naffar’s voice. His calls, his prayers, his songs, they aren’t just sounds. They’re art, culture, and a deep-rooted beauty that belongs to Morocco and nowhere else.