With Morocco facing economic and environmental strain, King Mohammed VI has called for a pause on animal sacrifice, prompting families to adapt their traditional Eid al-Adha celebrations
A young man dressed as a sheep as part of a traditional Eid al-Adha practice in the High Atlas, June 5, 2025.(photo credit: Hassan El Kade)ByGIORGIA VALENTE/THE MEDIA LINE
Eid al-Adha, or the Festival of Sacrifice, is one of Islam’s most significant and symbolic holidays, commemorating the Prophet Ibrahim’s willingness to sacrifice his son as an act of obedience to God. Across the Muslim world, this holiday is marked by the ritual slaughter of an animal, representing the sheep that Ibrahim slaughtered instead of his son, communal prayers, and gatherings that emphasize generosity and community spirit.
In Morocco this year, the ancient practice of sacrifice took on a different tone. For the first time in decades, King Mohammed VI issued a royal directive urging Moroccans not to slaughter sheep for Eid, citing environmental concerns and economic hardships.
“Performing this rite under these difficult circumstances will cause real harm to large segments of our people, especially those with limited income,” the king stated in his message delivered by the minister of Islamic affairs. This decision comes amid a severe drought that has drastically reduced livestock numbers and driven up meat prices, with the cost of a sheep last year reaching the equivalent of nearly $600, more than the monthly salary of many Moroccans.
As Mustapha Ait El Caid, a certified tourist guide from Marrakech, explained to The Media Line, “The king said that he will sacrifice two sheep—one for himself and one for the people—so that everyone can symbolically participate, and so there will be more sheep next year and the prices will drop. It’s not mandatory to sacrifice every year, but some parents feel the need to do it, so their children don’t feel sad despite their economic hardships. For this reason, some people decide to donate sheep to the poor so that everyone can be part of the celebration.”
Despite the pause on the sacrifice, Moroccans remain deeply connected to the traditions that define Eid. Hassan El Kade, a tour guide and expert on Morocco’s High Atlas region, told The Media Line that the holiday is a “deeply communal and traditional celebration” in rural Morocco.
Meat is prepared for an Eid al-Adha feast in Zagora, Morocco, June 5, 2025. (credit: Mustapha Ait El Caid)
'It’s a moment of shared experience and community spirit.'
“Families start preparing days before the festival, cleaning their homes and making sure they have enough food because the holiday lasts for several days. On the day of Eid, men attend the early morning prayer at the mosque, then return home to perform the sacrifice, usually led by the father and son,” he said. “It’s a moment of shared experience and community spirit.”
El Kade emphasized that even though the sacrifice itself was postponed this year, many of the traditions endure. “One of the unique things in the High Atlas is the Bil Mawen—where young men wear sheepskin and masks, dance, and playfully chase people around asking for treats,” he said. “It’s a folkloric ritual that blends humor, mysticism, and community. There’s also music—we call it Ahwach or Ahouach—with chanting and dance, performed during community gatherings after Eid. It’s a time when the whole village comes alive.”
Ait El Caid also emphasized the importance of humane treatment. “Islam teaches us to respect the animal’s feelings,” he said. “We make sure the knife is very sharp so it’s done quickly and painlessly. If we have two animals, we never kill one in front of the other. The animal must face Mecca, and we say the name of Allah, because the sacrifice is for God alone.”
He also highlighted the division of the meat: “The meal is divided into three parts,” Ait El Caid explained. “One part is for the family during the three days of the celebration, another part is for the needy people, and the last part is for the family to save for the days after Eid.”
While these traditions remain strong in rural areas, both El Kade and Ait El Caid highlighted the differences in urban centers like Casablanca and Rabat. “In the cities, many people outsource the sacrifice to a butcher, and sometimes they receive precut meat,” El Kade said. “The community connection is not as strong as it is in the villages, where everyone knows each other and traditions are preserved.”
Ait El Caid agreed: “In cities, because of space, many families go to public slaughterhouses. There’s less of that togetherness, less of that shared work and celebration.”
Alexandra Barnier, a travel planner currently living in Canada, reflected on how social media has bridged the gap between past and present for Moroccans. “Younger generations are very proud of their traditions, and they share them on social media,” she told The Media Line. “It’s a way to keep the customs alive even as lifestyles change.”
“One of the reasons I love Morocco is the combination of modernization and traditions with Amazigh culture and native people,” Barnier said. “The people are incredibly attached to their roots—even though things change, the sense of identity and community is still so strong.”
She also emphasized the importance of traditional clothes. “On Eid, people wear beautiful traditional garments like the djellaba, which adds a special touch to the day,” she said. “It shows respect for the occasion and a connection to our cultural heritage.”
In Tunisia, Eid Al-Adha continues to be celebrated with a deep sense of family and community. Ouaji Raja, an Arabic teacher, described how the day begins with “Tasbihat Al Eid,” a special prayer recited by men in public spaces while women pray at home.
“After the Eid prayer, men go home to sacrifice the sheep for God,” Raja told The Media Line. “Then women prepare many Tunisian meals with the meat, and men do the barbecue. It’s a festive day where everyone comes together.”
She shared how important the culinary traditions are to Tunisians: “We have couscous with ossban—a traditional dish—plus kleya and mechwi, our barbecue. What’s special is that even the poorest get to eat meat. We always give a quarter of the sheep to the poor. It’s our way of making sure everyone can celebrate.”
“In the evening, after the meal, we gather together to drink tea, share stories, and listen to music,” she continued. “It’s a time to talk about the past, share blessings, and look forward to the year ahead.”
Like her Moroccan counterparts, Raja sees the family as the heart of Eid. “My special moment is when the entire family gathers to prepare the ossban,” she said. “It’s a complicated dish we only make once a year, and everyone helps—the men, the women, the children. It’s a time for laughter, stories, and working together.”
She also noted that while school teaches the religious significance of Eid, it’s at home where children truly learn. “At school, it’s theoretical,” she said. “At home, they see how it’s done—from the prayers to the food to the way we greet each other. That’s how they really understand the meaning of Eid.”
As Morocco adapts its traditions to environmental realities and Tunisia preserves its deep-rooted customs, Eid Al-Adha remains a celebration of faith, family, and community. “It’s not just about the sacrifice,” Hassan reflected. “It’s about hospitality, generosity, and keeping the community together.”