Sticks and Stones; five prayers on the rustic streets of Zanzibar, Tanzania

| 1. Fajr |  The labyrinth comes to life at dawn. Men in white kufi skull caps drift to the mosque in Baghani. The crisp white robes trail behind as they abandon their shoes and ascend the staircase and are subdued in prayer. Windows of houses open and washing is daintily left to hang dry in the tepid sea breeze. Children burst through gates and closed doors to the narrow alleyways, stopping to purchase a sweet on their way to school or the madrasah. The youngest children walk hand in hand with their mothers. As the sunlight spreads across the labyrinth, owners begin sweeping their shop fronts with a bucket of water to wash away sand and salt. The fruit stalls at Darajani are delicately arranged in bursts of colour and types.   

| 2. Dhuhr |  The sound of teaspoons stirring sugar in freshly poured chai echoes through the streets in Vuga. Men form crowds at corners, in restaurants, outside shops, at the market or on ordinary concrete steps.  Sometimes they are reclining with a small glass of spiced tea in hand, more often just there to be part of the action. By the gardens at the waterfront women do the same, gossiping in circular groups wearing patterned green hijabs or yellow chadors. Couples walk beside each other through the gardens, watching fishing boats on the turquoise horizon and ferries arriving at Port.     

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| 3. 'Asr |  A young tailor's hands delicately stitch fabrics of a black niqab, the veil for women covering everything except the eyes. The sewing machine is older than the tainted bricks of his shop, which is covered in fabrics of every pattern and shade of colour. It is still Africa, after all. Around the crown of the head on the piece of fabric, he uses glue to assemble coloured jewels which will glimmer like silver in sunlight. Around the cuffs he follows the same system. Green, red, white; repeat. Women shift in and out of the shop, greeting with 'salaam alaikum' or Peace be upon you, and then getting straight to business. Eid Mubarak is just around the corner and garments need to be made.  

|  4. Maghrib In the afternoon shadows of the Old Fort, people move towards the noise and performance on the beach. Amidst fishermen cleaning their boats and families walking on the sand, are a group of young men showing off their tricks in midair. Flipping from an old spare tyre, the airborne silhouettes take turns to back flip onto the sand to raging applause. For youth, the island life is slow paced, supple, allowing for endless hours to be spent learning tricks, kicking a football or practicing English with mzungo's.      

|  5. Isha'a Darajani market is alive and breathing by night. Gas lanterns shed light on the masses sitting at tables, on mats or on wooden stools selling their stocks of crispy fish and squid. Women's hands mould a simple dough and lightly fry chapatis, a South Asian flatbread on small flat-iron pans. Skewers of beef and goat sizzle on open fires and the smell of rich infused spices changes the flavour in the air.  A man wheels his cart of fresh palm dates shouting in Swahili, a woman next to him carries a basket of freshly picked papaya on her head. The cauldrons of tea bubble for the final round of the day as darkness engulfs the labyrinth.