With Tabaski just two weeks away, a familiar anxiety grips household heads across Dakar, from bustling popular districts to affluent areas like Almadies. The price of sheep has once again surged. What was considered a reasonable 120,000 CFA francs yesterday for a suitable animal now stands at 150,000, often reaching 200,000 CFA francs. For those coveted ‘prestige’ sheep—the ones proudly photographed and shared on WhatsApp—the cost can easily climb to 300,000 CFA francs or more.

“How will I find this money?” is the question men repeatedly ask themselves, an annual ritual of dread. A disturbing aspect of modern Tabaski is its evolution from a religious observance into a compulsory social status symbol.

The eid sheep: a matter of money, not just faith

Mamadou Sall, a resident of Sacré-Cœur, earns approximately 60,000 CFA francs monthly. His stress begins as early as May. Barely two months later, he faces the daunting task of securing 150,000 francs—two and a half months of his salary—to purchase a sheep. This isn’t merely for a week’s worth of meat; it’s to uphold tradition, to ensure his neighbors witness his sacrifice, and to preserve his family’s standing.

Mamadou cannot secure a loan from a traditional bank; no bank would offer credit for a sheep. Consequently, he turns to his neighborhood tontine, where he borrows 150,000 CFA francs. But at what cost? Interest rates for tontines during Tabaski can soar to 30% per annum, sometimes even 50%. On a 150,000 CFA franc loan, this translates to immediate fees ranging from 3,750 to 6,250 francs, followed by repayments spread over 12 months.

Mamadou’s situation is far from unique. Between 35% and 45% of all credits extended by Senegalese microfinance institutions during the Tabaski period are specifically for the purchase of a sheep. This is a staggering statistic, indicating that nearly one in two loan applications during these critical weeks is for an animal consumed within the year.

Explosive price growth since 2010

In 2010, a sheep typically cost between 60,000 and 80,000 CFA francs. Today, the price ranges from 150,000 to 250,000 CFA francs, representing an increase of 87% to 275% in under 15 years. This inflation is not tied to general price inflation in Senegal but rather to speculation driven by demand concentrated over just two months. During Tabaski, demand is inelastic: people feel compelled to buy, regardless of the cost. Breeders and intermediaries exploit this reality, raising prices without apprehension.

Who is borrowing for the tabaski sheep?

For Tabaski 2024, the nation’s microfinance institutions reported a 62% surge in microcredit applications compared to typical periods, with the average requested amount fluctuating between 120,000 and 200,000 CFA francs. This represents an overwhelming wave of credit demands concentrated within a two-month window.

The informal debt architecture

Given the inaccessibility of traditional bank credit, a complex informal debt structure has solidified. Tontines, microfinance providers, and private informal lenders all thrive during the Tabaski season.

Tontine mechanisms see accelerated rotations. Interest rates within these informal credit circles typically range from 30% to 50% per year during Tabaski, transforming a 150,000 CFA franc loan into a total debt of 172,500 to 225,000 CFA francs after 12 months of repayment.

While microfinance institutions offer nominally better terms, they come with effective annual rates of 24% to 36%, reaching up to 48% for shorter credits (three to six months). A family borrowing in July for an August Tabaski faces immediate financial charges of 3,000 to 6,000 CFA francs on a 150,000 CFA franc loan.

Social media fuels the problem

The situation has worsened significantly over the past decade due to the pervasive influence of social media. Previously, only immediate neighbors might see one’s sheep. Now, 500 people on WhatsApp can view it—not just see it, but admire, comment on, and compare it.

A 2023 study by Cheikh Anta Diop University revealed that 67% of young Dakar residents report experiencing social pressure regarding the purchase of a sheep for Tabaski. Among them, 48% stated this pressure primarily stems from what they observe on social media. Senegalese influencers often promote prestigious sheep, and Tabaski videos frequently showcase affluent families acquiring expensive animals.

Meanwhile, struggling families feel inadequate and resort to debt to keep up. This burden falls particularly heavily on men. In Senegalese culture, the man is traditionally responsible for buying the sheep. If a man cannot provide a sheep for Tabaski, it is often perceived as a personal failure, a sign of insufficient means, or an inability to care for his family.

The hidden cost: reduced household consumption

Households that take out loans for Tabaski subsequently reduce their food and health consumption by 18% to 25% over the following three months. This leads to school children’s fees being cut, essential medicines going unpurchased. The true economic cost of maintaining appearances for Tabaski extends far beyond the sheep’s purchase price.

Even more concerning, some farmers divert their agricultural credits—intended for seeds and fertilizer—to buy a sheep. Between 8% and 12% of Senegalese agricultural credits are redirected for consumption during Tabaski. This means a farmer who could potentially increase their harvest by 30% sacrifices this opportunity for social prestige. When the next agricultural season arrives, they lack the necessary funds for investment.

Morocco’s solution from 25 years ago

In 1999, the King of Morocco made a pivotal decision: every impoverished Moroccan would be entitled to a sheep for Tabaski. This wasn’t framed as charity but as a right, acknowledging that religious celebrations should not be dictated by market forces.

Since then, Morocco has distributed millions of sheep. In 2023, the royal program, Zakat Al-Fitr Fund, provided over 2.8 million sheep. The annual cost? Approximately 450 million Moroccan dirhams, roughly equivalent to 43 billion CFA francs. When compared to the national budget, Morocco allocates less than 0.1% of its national budget to ensure all its less fortunate citizens can celebrate Tabaski without falling into debt.

Senegal’s inaction in the face of crisis

In stark contrast, Senegal invests virtually nothing. There is no comprehensive national program. While some municipalities and a few private religious organizations offer limited assistance, the rest of the nation is left to the mercy of usurious interest rates and the psychological burden of maintaining appearances.

Meanwhile, debt collection agencies in Senegal report a troubling trend: household over-indebtedness peaks three months after Tabaski. Families struggle to repay their Tabaski loans while simultaneously trying to meet basic needs. They cut back on food, forgo essential healthcare, and withdraw children from school.

The mental health toll is also significant. A 2022 study by the Dakar Mental Health Research Center revealed a disturbing pattern: calls to psychological helplines dramatically increase three weeks before Tabaski. Among men aged 30 to 55, the number of calls doubles. The anguish of not being able to afford a sheep, the shame, and the fear of social judgment weigh heavily on many.

How did we reach this point?

Firstly, there’s the pervasive need for social validation. Tabaski has transformed into a display of social status, a phenomenon not present in earlier times. Religious tradition has become intertwined with ostentatious urban consumption, a trend greatly accelerated by social media. Now, Tabaski has become a platform for: Look at my sheep. See how wealthy I am. Observe how respectable I am.

Secondly, there is a complete absence of public policy. The Senegalese government does not address Tabaski as a critical social issue. There is no national debate on the subject. Politicians rarely speak about it, and media coverage is minimal. Meanwhile, millions of households fall into debt each year.

Mamadou is already receiving calls from his tontine. Tabaski 2025 approaches. Sheep prices are rising. Interest rates are climbing. And the cycle begins anew.