The Chaos and Comedy of Moroccan Eid Family Gatherings

Surviving a Moroccan Eid gathering requires patience, strategy, and a strong sense of humor.

Fez– Eid Al Fitr in Morocco isn’t just about breaking the fast, it’s about testing your patience, social skills, and ability to dodge the world’s most unnecessary questions.

It’s the one day of the year where you’re forced to interact with every possible branch of your extended family, from the overly curious aunt to the Gen Z cousin who malfunctions when someone says, “Marhba bikom”

The interrogation squad

Before you even step into the house, the interrogation committee is stationed at the entrance. When are you getting married? “Did you get a job?” “Are you pregnant yet?”

These aunts and uncles have the memory of elephants and the persistence of debt collectors.

If last Eid you said you were studying, expect a full-on thesis defense about your career choices this year.

And if you’re single? May God help you because they’ve got a mental list of “nice young people” for you to consider.

The Gen Z struggle

You know that one cousin who spends the entire gathering glued to their phone? The moment they’re forced to interact with elders is pure comedy.

Someone hits them with a long, poetic Moroccan greeting:

“Ela slama, labass? Kif dayr(a)? Kidayrin walidik? Kighadi(a) mea lqraya?” All they can muster is a panicked, barely audible “Lhamdullah.” Their social battery was at 5% before they even walked in, and now they’re completely out of charge.

Ah, Moroccan “Swab.” The tradition where every younger person must kiss the hand of every older relative and their cheeks 5 times at least.

If you thought dodging embarrassing questions was hard, try surviving a kissing session.

One wrong move and you’re smothered in a combination of floral perfume, musk, and whatever Eid pastries they were snacking on.

There’s always that one uncle who grabs your hand like you’re signing an unbreakable contract and an aunt who forces a second round of kisses just to make sure.

Of course, Eid wouldn’t be Eid without the legendary Moroccan feast. Grilled Chicken, rfissa, tagines, pastries…the table is a masterpiece.

But just when you think you can finally relax and enjoy, the Tupperware Mafia strikes.

Mothers, aunts, and grandmothers work with military precision, packing leftovers into every available container. If you’re too slow, say goodbye to your favorite dish.

Blink twice, and someone’s already packed the entire plate of bastilla for their kids.

The vanishing of kids

At the beginning of the day, the house is overrun with hyperactive kids. But once they collect their Eid money (Eidiya), they vanish like magicians.

They reappear only when they need a second round of cash or when their parents threaten them with a “3mri baqi nkhrjek meaya.”

Yes, Moroccan Eid family gatherings are chaotic. They’re loud, exhausting, and full of unavoidable social acrobatics.

But at the end of the day, they’re also hilarious, heartwarming, and a reminder that no matter how much we complain, we wouldn’t trade this madness for anything.

Until next Eid, when we’ll act surprised that it’s happening all over again.