The steps at Lakemba mosque on Thursday night hum with a contented quietness, and the smell of sweet bread baking fills the air. Two men sitting nearby rise to greet me, as outside, three 14-year-old boys stop to chat. They’ve just finished tutoring and are heading to the mosque for tarawih – the evening prayer – before visiting the Lakemba Nights markets. One of them proudly mentions, “He has his own shop. He’s selling juice!”
The first day of Ramadan brings good vibes, as the first boy explains. “It’s safe, not terrorism,” he says, adding, “We are not terrorists.” His words resonate in a suburb that has become a focal point for both celebration and controversy.
Community Spirit in the Face of Criticism
In the days leading up to Ramadan, Australian right-wing politician and One Nation leader, Pauline Hanson, reignited controversy with comments targeting Muslims, specifically singling out Lakemba as a place where people like her “feel unwanted.” Lakemba, located about 20km west of Sydney’s CBD, is a significant hub for Australian Muslims. Each year, a million people – both Muslim and non-Muslim – attend the Lakemba night markets during Ramadan.
The teenagers, eager to join the bustling crowd, encapsulate the community’s response to Hanson’s remarks. “She’s just stereotypical,” one says. “She’s just racist.” Sheikh Aref Chaker echoes this sentiment, stating,
“More than one million people [would] not come to a suburb where they do not feel welcome.”
As the sun sets and people break their fast, Lakemba comes alive. Smoke billows from beneath dozens of green and red tents along Haldon Street, carrying the warm aroma of savory meats and bread. Parents chase their toddlers, and groups of friends gather on curbs, hunched over steaming kebabs.
A Cultural Melting Pot
The night markets maintain their usual energy, promising to continue into the early hours of the next morning. I stop at a stall offering coffee and Nabulsi knafeh – a layered dessert of cheese, pistachio, crispy pastry, and saffron, all melded together by a sweet syrup. Bilal, a Lebanese vendor, insists that the Nabulsi version is the best. “Because it’s Palestinian!” he declares.
Bilal explains that the markets are special because they mirror traditions from their home countries. “We used to enjoy Ramadan markets every night,” he says. “So all the Australian people, the Chinese, the Indian, they get to know that, support it, actually love it. Australians coming all the way from Canberra, Melbourne, different states, they love it.”
Throughout the night, I sample an assortment of food – bright green coriander chicken, lime-drenched murtabak, the softest Malaysian beef and cheese rolls – and befriend many vendors who generously refuse payment for my drink or dessert.
Finding Home Away from Home
“You know, when you are far from home, sometimes it feels like you want something that feels closer to home,” says Excel, a visitor breaking fast with her mother from Jakarta, Indonesia. Sitting around a plastic table beneath the green light of a supermarket, they enjoy a spread of satay, camel burger, corn, and sugar cane juice. “It really hits home with the Ramadan vibe,” she says. “I think that’s really special and you can’t really find it.”
Yisra, a TikToker who stops to chat, describes the atmosphere: “The vibe is everyone’s breaking their fast, sitting with their family, everyone is happy. You’ve got the guy that comes around and gives you coffee. There’s excitement, you have all these lights. It’s peaceful, you know – it’s Lakemba. What is special is the community. They’re very giving. You’ve got a lot of people from different backgrounds. A lot of culture here.”
If Hanson feels unwelcome here, she is the only one. The community is accustomed to being the target of divisive political rhetoric. Their freedom to celebrate significant events with joy has been repeatedly overshadowed by grief over events affecting family and homelands overseas.
Challenges Amidst Celebration
There is also grief over events in Australia. In the last month, Lakemba mosque has received a series of threats, including a call to kill worshippers – which came just days after Hanson’s comments. In daily life, Australian Muslims have witnessed a surge in Islamophobic hate since the Bondi terror attack.
Earlier, Sheikh Chaker speaks with me about the “ambience of peace” that comes with Ramadan. The openness, friendliness, generosity, and tolerance that the holy month encourages. “These death threats, they take away from the ambience of peace,” he says. “People are feeling scared. They are not feeling safe to walk down to the mosque.”
Australia’s race discrimination commissioner called on Hanson to apologize earlier this week. Bilal El-Hayek, the mayor of Canterbury Bankstown, told the ABC on Friday that hate speech laws were “quite clear” with a reference to public incitement of hatred and violence.
Chaker wants Hanson to understand the impact of her words, suggesting they can be interpreted as a call to prejudice. “As someone aspiring to have a greater political presence in this country, you should have the qualities of a leader that unifies the people, that makes them feel safe, not that divides them or incites hatred amongst them,” he says.
The Lakemba Ramadan markets continue to thrive, a testament to the resilience and unity of a diverse community. As the festivities carry on, they serve as a reminder of the power of cultural exchange and the shared human experience.
