Muezzins: the good, the bad and the terrible

It’s a pitty that Islam doesn’t hold its muezzins to quality standards. There are a few good, some passable and a lot of terrible ones. In Damascus, I had a very old muezzin by my window. Frequently interrupted by painful coughs, his cracked voice would rock me up at 5am. But near me in Bamako, a beautiful, smooth singing calls to prayer early morning. It’s a sweet way to wake up… or to be lullabied back to sleep…


Anyway, the best muezzin I’ve ever heard sang from an ex-cathedral in Turkish-occupied North Nicosia, in Cyprus. You could listen to him from every part of the southern half of Nicosia’s old city, the Christian one… maybe to remind them the islamisation of the north?


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