The Crescent Observer Society, aka the Maankyker Society, usually go check out the new moon on the 29th day of the fast, at sunset.
If sighted, Eid ul Fitr would be the next day. If not, Muslims will fast 30 days (a full moon cycle) and Eid will be the day thereafter.
The joyous day of Eid is heralded in with the melodious and moving sounds of the takbeer...Allah hu Akbar [God is greater (than anything)].
I remember the first time in my life that I ever completed fasting for a full Ramadaan.
I was only six years old and motivated by my grandmother’s inspirational words: “ Siefie, jy is nou oud genoeg om te pwasa, soema heel dag, en as ek jou vang agter die bak eet, dan gee ek self vir jou falaka [a hiding] met die jaart besem!”
I decided to do it. Not that she gave me much of a choice.
Besides the threats, which were all well-intended I’m sure, she also bribed me with labarang klere of my choice if I managed to fast the full 30 days.
At that time it was my biggest dream to yak a Nevada pants, paisley shirt and a chocolate brown Grasshopper. So, of course, I took up the challenge and before I knew it, toe was ek oppie berg (halfway through the fast).
The thing that stood out for me was going to the night prayers at mosque.
Every night my granny used to fill my Oros cooldrink bottle with aanmaak drinks, and I would make my way to mosque for the full 20 prayers of Taraweeg.
MEMORIES: Drinking my aanmaak drinks while doing Taraweeg prayers as a child
However, just when I thought I could take a break from Taraweeg salah in the last 10 days, Sheikh Rooibaard, who was the sheikh of Eastridge Masjid in Mitchells Plain at the time, gave a lecture about the most blessed night which is found only in the odd nights during the last 10 nights of Ramadaan.
He was speaking of Laylah tul Qadr, the Night of Power, which is better than a thousand months of constant praying.
So under his guidance, I ventured on a search for this holy night.
Now, at six years old, I’m not sure if I was blessed with it, but as I got older, I am still continuing the search.
My excitement for labarang is still the same as it was back then, though, with the only difference being that it’s not the Nevada I’m looking forward to, but something more valuable – the time we get to spend with our families.
The sound of the takbeer evokes even more meaningful memories now, like the trip to the Koebes (graveyard) to go and visit our loved ones that we lost, and yes, just to say slamat to mense. What a simple yet powerful word, slamat!
Back when I was a child, saying slamat meant somebody was going to give me a ½ cent in return, now it means shaking the hand of a fellow Muslim and saying congratulations, we made it, I am happy to be able to see you, and embrace you on this blessed day, who knows if we will be here to say slamat next year?
So slamat my broe, slamat vir die labarang.
With that said, I pray that when this blessed month of Ramadaan ends, that the spirit of giving and loving our fellow man continues on throughout the rest of the year.
That the interest we have shown for the poor continues to grow and that we continue to care for one another until there is not one day that anybody in the Cape has to go sleep cold or hungry.
I have felt the spirit of giving and sharing innie Kaap this Ramadaan and beg you, fellow Muslims and fellow Capetonians, let it live with the birth of labarang.
Eid Mubarak to each and everyone of you.