In Iraq, Generous Middle East Tradition of 'Istiftah' Lives on

An Iraqi man sells nuts in the old bazaar in Erbil, the capital Iraqi Kurdistan. (AFP)
An Iraqi man sells nuts in the old bazaar in Erbil, the capital Iraqi Kurdistan. (AFP)
TT
20

In Iraq, Generous Middle East Tradition of 'Istiftah' Lives on

An Iraqi man sells nuts in the old bazaar in Erbil, the capital Iraqi Kurdistan. (AFP)
An Iraqi man sells nuts in the old bazaar in Erbil, the capital Iraqi Kurdistan. (AFP)

As the sun rises over Erbil's historic bazaar, shopkeepers sweep their stoops and eagerly await the "istiftah" -- the first customer of the day, believed to be a good omen.

For a country as famously hospitable as Iraq, where lunch tables are often overflowing with platters of meat as big as truck tires, the custom of "istiftah", which means "opener", is subtle but sweet.

The first customer of the day gets to name his or her price for the goods or service being purchased, without the usual process of haggling and compromise that is quintessential to street markets.

"The first customer is exceptional," said Hidayet Sheikhani, 39. "He's carrying wealth and well-being straight from God to the businessperson in the early morning."

Sheikhani sells traditional black-and-white embroidered scarves and hats in the bazaar in the bustling center of Erbil, the Kurdistan region's capital.

Shopkeepers arrive in the bazaar's brick alleyways around dawn, roll up the metal shutters of their shops and pour an obligatory glass of sweet tea to start their day.

It's a tradition as old as time -- not only in Iraq, but all across the Middle East.

Sheikhani inherited it from his grandfather, who had a shop in the same marketplace a century ago.

At the time, he said, the "istiftah" tradition set the tone for the rest of the day.

Shopkeepers who had not yet sold anything would put a chair outside their shop, as a signal to their colleagues.

Those who had made their first sale would direct any incoming shoppers to the other shops, until everyone had had their "istiftah".

Only then would they accept a second customer.

That went for both Muslim and Jewish shopkeepers, said Sheikhani, as Erbil was home to a thriving Jewish community until the mid-20th century.

'God will make it up to me'
The origin of the "istiftah" tradition remains disputed.

Some say it hails from the Hadith, a record of the words and actions attributed to the Prophet Mohammed, in which he pleads to God, "Oh Allah, bless my people in their early mornings".

But Abbas Ali, a lecturer at the College of Islamic Studies in Iraq's Salahaddin University, said the custom's prevalence among other faiths indicates it may not be related to Islam at all.

"It's possible it was merely an ancient custom that was practiced for a long time -- and good traditions often become religious rituals," Ali told AFP.

Either way, it lives on, even among young businessmen.

Jamaluddin Abdelhamid, a 24-year-old with a wispy goatee, sells roasted nuts, sweets and spices in the bazaar.

"Often, a customer requests honey because they're sick. It usually costs 14,000 Iraqi dinars (less than $10) per jar, but they ask for it at 10,000 and I agree because it's the 'istiftah'," he said.

"I know God will make it up to me somewhere else in my day," said Abdelhamid.

Rejecting a first customer's request -- no matter how steep the discount is -- leaves him guilt-ridden.

"I spend the whole day feeling sad, asking myself how I could have rejected God's blessing," Abdelhamid said.

Tradition under threat?
It goes beyond the old bazaar: even taxi drivers, plumbers and mechanics have adopted it.

"Whatever cash I earn first in a day, I kiss it and raise it to my forehead as a sign of gratitude to God," said Maher Salim, a 46-year-old car mechanic in Erbil.

But an "istiftah" never goes for free.

First customers often offer a very discounted price for their early-morning purchase, but it's frowned upon to request something at no cost at all.

"Even if it's my brother, I'll take something symbolic from him -- even just 1,000 Iraqi dinars," Salim told AFP.

There's one creeping threat to the beautiful balance of the "istiftah": shopping malls.

As Erbil has developed over the last decade, large malls have cropped up across the city, offering convenient and speedy shopping experiences to its residents.

Mohammad Khalil still buys his groceries -- bread, yogurt, cheese and vegetables -- every morning from small shops near his home, showering the shopkeepers with prayers for blessings and good health as he walks out.

Interactions at malls, he complained, are comparatively cold.

"There's no sense of istiftah there -- everything is about the computer system," Khalil told AFP.

"Most of the time, the people who work in the mall shops aren't the actual owners, so they don't even care about the tradition."



Crops Wither in Sudan as Power Cuts Cripple Irrigation

FILED - 27 August 2024, Sudan, Omdurman: Young people walk along a street marked by destruction in Sudan. Photo: Mudathir Hameed/dpa
FILED - 27 August 2024, Sudan, Omdurman: Young people walk along a street marked by destruction in Sudan. Photo: Mudathir Hameed/dpa
TT
20

Crops Wither in Sudan as Power Cuts Cripple Irrigation

FILED - 27 August 2024, Sudan, Omdurman: Young people walk along a street marked by destruction in Sudan. Photo: Mudathir Hameed/dpa
FILED - 27 August 2024, Sudan, Omdurman: Young people walk along a street marked by destruction in Sudan. Photo: Mudathir Hameed/dpa

Hatem Abdelhamid stands amid his once-thriving date palms in northern Sudan, helpless as a prolonged war-driven power outage cripples irrigation, causing devastating crop losses and deepening the country's food crisis.

"I've lost 70 to 75 percent of my crops this year," he said, surveying the dying palms in Tanqasi, a village on the Nile in Sudan's Northern State.

"I'm trying really hard to keep the rest of the crops alive," he told AFP.

Sudan's agricultural sector -- already battered by a two-year conflict and economic crisis -- is now facing another crushing blow from the nationwide power outages.

Since the war between the regular army and the paramilitary Rapid Support Forces began in April 2023, state-run power plants have been repeatedly targeted, suffering severe damage and ultimately leaving farms without water.

Like most Sudanese farms, Abdelhamid's depends on electric-powered irrigation -- but the system has been down "for over two months" due to the blackouts.

Sudan had barely recovered from the devastating 1985 drought and famine when war erupted again in 2023, delivering a fresh blow to the country's agriculture.

Agriculture remains the main source of food and income for 80 percent of the population, according to the United Nations' Food and Agriculture Organization (FAO).

Now in its third year, the conflict has plunged more than half the population into acute food insecurity, with famine already taking hold in at least five areas and millions more at risk across conflict-hit regions in the west, center and south.

The war has also devastated infrastructure, killed tens of thousands of people, and displaced 13 million.

A 2024 joint study by the United Nations Development Programme and the International Food Policy Research Institute (IFPRI) found that nearly a third of rural households have lost irrigation and water access since the war began.

Without electricity to power his irrigation system, Abdelhamid -- like thousands of farmers across the country -- was forced to rely on diesel-powered pumps.

But with fuel scarce and prices now more than 20 times higher than before the war, even that option is out of reach for many.

"I used to spend 10,000 Sudanese pounds (about four euros according to the black market rate) for irrigation each time," said another farmer, Abdelhalim Ahmed.

"Now it costs me 150,000 pounds (around 60 euros) because there is no electricity," he told AFP.

Ahmed said he has lost three consecutive harvests -- including crops like oranges, onions, tomatoes and dates.

With seeds, fertilizers and fuel now barely available, many farmers say they won't be able to replant for the next cycle.

In April, the FAO warned that "below average rainfall" and ongoing instability were closing the window to prevent further deterioration.

A June study by IFPRI also projected Sudan's overall economic output could shrink by as much as 42 percent if the war continues, with the agricultural sector contracting by more than a third.

"Our analysis shows massive income losses across all households and a sharp rise in poverty, especially in rural areas and among women," said Khalid Siddig, a senior research fellow at IFPRI.