The Assessment Trap: Overemphasising Memorisation, Ignoring Tarteel

Introduction: A Familiar Dilemma

For many years, I’ve found myself seated at high tables with anxious competitors before me and hopeful parents in the back rows. My role has varied — teacher, judge, organiser — but the setting is always similar: the hush before a Quran competition round, the weighty responsibility felt by everyone in the room. Our community prizes Quran memorisation, and rightly so. But the longer I’ve been involved, the more concerned I’ve become that the obsession with perfect recall is warping our collective sense of what truly matters in the recitation of the Book: the spirit of Tarteel, or measured and melodious recitation.

This article is a reflection borne of first-hand experience, observations, and, I hope, the wisdom to admit our mistakes. I offer these thoughts not as definitive answers, but as an invitation to rethink our priorities and the way we nurture Quranic excellence in the next generation.

The Lure of Memorisation: Why We Favour It

Why does Hifz attract so much attention and prestige in our competitions and classrooms? There are clear reasons:

• Quantifiable Achievement: It’s easier to measure. Either the child recited the ayah or they didn’t. This lends itself to scoring and ranking.
• Cultural Expectations: Many communities associate status and pride with how much of the Quran one has memorised, sometimes more than how beautifully it is recited.
• Pressure from Stakeholders: Parents and sponsors often prefer clear, numerical progress, which memorisation scores provide.
• Lack of Training: Judges and teachers may lack confidence or expertise in assessing Tarteel, so they default to areas they feel qualified to mark.

As an organiser, I’ve been party to these dynamics. The entry requirements, the marking rubrics, the event certificates — all tend to revolve around how many pages a child has memorised, how many errors of recall they made.

The Cost: What Gets Lost Without Tarteel

This bias towards memorisation, though understandable, comes at a heavy price. Every year, I see learners recite dozens of pages with machine-like precision but no engagement with the rhythms, pauses, or beauty of the Quranic recitation. I’ve heard ayat rushed through in monotone, as if racing towards a deadline, the melody and meaning set aside in favour of faultless recall.

Tarteel — the art of reciting with deliberation, proper pace, and beauty — is a lost priority. Many competitors, and even teachers, see it as optional decoration, rather than an essential act of worship. Some key issues I have encountered:

• Loss of Reflection: Rushing through memory work, children rarely pause to consider the meanings of the words or connect with the verses. This diminishes the transformative power of the Quran.
• Bad Habits: Poor pacing, lack of attention to madd (elongations), or ignoring waqf (pausing rules) become entrenched, harder to unlearn later.
• Emotional Disconnect: Recitation without soul or melody strips the Quran of its emotional resonance both for the reciter and the listeners.
• Narrow Praise: Children receive applause for ‘x’ number of pages, but rarely for deep, thoughtful recitation. This sends the wrong message about what we value.

I have had students come to me after years of memorisation, worried they “never learnt how to recite the way the Imam does.” It’s both a personal and community-level loss.

Understanding Tarteel: Beyond Surface-Level Recitation

Tarteel denotes more than reading beautifully. Rooted in the command, “and recite the Qur’an with measured recitation” (Qur’an 73:4), it is about pacing, clarity, and adherence to the rules of Tajweed. But more crucially, it encompasses the intention and soulful connection formed during recitation. Some dimensions I believe we overlook:

• Pacing: Not too fast to become unclear; not so slow the meaning loses connection.
• Pausing: Understanding natural breaks, stopping, and starting where appropriate.
• Rules of Tajweed: Proper pronunciation, elongation, nasalisation — but not rote application; rather, weaving them naturally into recitation.
• Emotional Presence: Reciting with humility, awe, and consciousness; intending to comprehend and embody the words.

The Prophet (peace be upon him) did not simply memorise; he recited so that hearts were moved. In every well-run competition I’ve judged, the audience stirs not at the count of flawless ayahs, but at the rare child who recites with both precision and beauty.

The Assessment Trap: How Our Methods Sabotage Good Tarteel

Here is where experience as an organiser becomes instructive. In many competitions, Tarteel or Tajweed is quickly tacked on: a few points for “melodious recitation”, perhaps, or deduction for gross errors. Meanwhile, dozens more marks ride on memorisation.

I have witnessed:

• Children reciting faster to finish within tight time limits, prioritising speed over Tarteel.
• Judges falling back on technical marking because subjectivity in Tarteel assessment feels daunting, even intimidating.
• Well-intentioned teachers drilling pages for competition at the expense of daily Tarteel practice, believing “there’s just no time” to do both.

Rubrics that do not reward correct pausing, pace, or melody, reinforce the message that these qualities are non-essential. Once entrenched, this attitude persists through senior competitions — and, unfortunately, in the prayer halls themselves.

Restoring Balance: Practical Steps From the Field

Change does not begin in web articles or conference speeches, but through revisiting daily practices and competition culture. Over time, and not without resistance, I have found several ways to honour and integrate Tarteel into both teaching and judging. Here are some practical recommendations I have implemented — with honest outcomes:

1. Reform Competition Marking Schemes

I worked with fellow organisers to reconsider the weight given to each area. A 70/30 split in favour of memorisation is common, but we experimented with 60/40, or even half-and-half, shifting those extra points towards recitation quality, pace, and Tajweed. Sometimes, this was met with concern (“Will that be fair?”), but the overall improvements in recitation standard made it worthwhile.

2. Provide Clear Guidance and Training for Judges

Marking Tarteel can seem subjective, but we found that simple breakdowns — for example, allocating specific points to pausing, pronunciation, melody, and pace — made a significant difference. Pre-competition workshops for judges equipped them to make decisions with confidence, not guesswork. Even those new to Tarteel assessment felt more capable.

3. Honour Performance, Not Just Recall

Certificates and announcements should acknowledge outstanding Tarteel, not only flawless memorisation. One of my proudest moments was presenting an award for “Most Thoughtful Recitation”. The recipient, a nine-year-old, may not have had the longest Surah by heart, but her delivery moved the audience to tears. That’s success worth celebrating.

4. Integrate Tarteel into Daily Learning

I encourage teachers (myself included) to start lessons with slow, attentive recitation — even just half a page, focusing only on melody and Tajweed, with no pressure to memorise. Some students improved more in six months of this approach than in years of mere rote learning.

5. Make Time for Reflection

Space for discussing meanings, stories, and emotional reactions to verses creates an environment where students look forward to application, not just retention. Even in competitive settings, a few minutes’ pause for reflection before recitation helped calm nerves and foster presence.

Advice for Teachers, Parents, and Organisers

After years of working alongside so many families and educators, my advice boils down to a few heartfelt suggestions:

• Resist the urge for shortcuts: True excellence is slow and deliberate. Don’t rush to complete milestones at the expense of foundational skills.
• Celebrate process, not outcome alone: Praise students for effort in Tarteel as much as correct answers. Avoid measuring progress solely by quantity.
• Normalise errors and correction: Mistakes in pacing or Tajweed are not shameful; they are learning opportunities. Model humility as learners yourselves.
• Seek teachers and mentors who embody Tarteel: Children emulate what they hear. Find people who recite with both correctness and feeling.
• Design assessments that matter: If you’re a decision-maker, balance your rubrics to reflect the Quran’s own priorities — “Recite and ascend”, not just “Remember and repeat”.

Conclusion: Towards a Deeper Culture of Quranic Excellence

Competitions can be engines of motivation and learning — if designed with balance and wisdom. The next Hafiz or Hafiza should be someone who not only remembers the words but also brings them to life with their tongue and heart.

My journey through decades of competitions has shown me that the greatest impact comes from recitation that marries knowledge with beauty. Let us resist the assessment trap. Let us nurture in our children, and in ourselves, not only sharp minds but open hearts tuned to the melody of revelation.

If you need help with your Quran competition platform or marking tools, email info@qurancompetitions.tech.