Why Quran Competitions Don’t Feel Fair — Even When They Are
Across the decades that I have participated in Quran competitions — as a contestant, organiser, judge, and teacher — I’ve repeatedly witnessed a peculiar phenomenon: competitions that are run with meticulous attention to fairness, transparency, and integrity, still often leave participants and their families feeling something was unjust. Over the years, this recurring sense of “unfairness” has forced me to examine the structure, culture, and communication surrounding Quran competitions, looking beyond just the mechanics of marking and into the less tangible, but deeply influential, aspects of the experience.
In this post, I want to explore the roots of these feelings, share my own observations, and offer practical advice to organisers, teachers, and participants about navigating the unique pressures and expectations of Quran competitions. My hope is that by surfacing what sits beneath the surface, we can collectively foster a more supportive, realistic, and spiritually-aligned culture around this noble endeavour.
The Mechanics of Fairness — And Their Limits
It’s important to recognise that “fairness” in competitions, particularly those involving Quran recitation or memorisation, is generally approached with the utmost seriousness. Marking guidelines, blind judging, random starting points, and rigorous standardisation are all employed to equalise opportunities and outcomes as much as possible.
- Judges are usually experienced and trained, often rotating or marking independently to prevent bias.
- Standard marking grids with clear criteria for tajweed, memorisation accuracy, voice, and fluency are widely adopted.
- Tabulation is cross-checked and audited, sometimes in front of participants.
And yet, with all these safeguards, discontent can still run high. I’ve attended heated parent meetings, witnessed contestants sobbing after results, and even been accused of bias, despite knowing that everything was executed “by the book.” Why does this happen?
Cultural and Emotional Dynamics at Play
The Subjectivity of Human Judgement
Despite our best attempts to standardise, the art of Quran recitation is, inescapably, a domain involving human perception. The emotional impact of a tilawah, the weighing of minor hesitation versus an exceptional voice, the interpretation of the ‘beauty’ of a recitation — all involve subjective elements, within the boundaries of clear rules. Two judges may award slightly different marks for the same recitation, reflecting their unique training and sensibilities. This is not evidence of corruption or incompetence; it’s a natural by-product of evaluating a living tradition.
Expectations and Aspirations
The Quran occupies a sacred space in the hearts of communities. For many children, parents, and teachers, a competition is not just a test of skill, but a deeply emotional moment representing years of effort, hope, and identity. It’s common for families to frame a child’s success or failure as a validation (or questioning) of parenting, teaching, or even personal piety. In such an atmosphere, any result short of victory can feel like a personal injustice, irrespective of the objective fairness of the process.
The Weight of Sacrifice
Many contestants and their families have made extraordinary sacrifices to prepare. Early-morning lessons, holidays devoted to revision, social events forfeited — these investments are seen as entitling the contestant to a reward. When the medal goes elsewhere, it’s easy for the mind to jump to conclusions:
- “The judge must have a bias!”
- “They favoured locals!”
- “My teacher was not respected!”
Rarely is the emotional investment matched to the slim statistical chances of winning among strong competitors.
Common Sources of “Unfairness” — Honest Reflections
Opaque Marking and Communication
One of the biggest sources of frustration is the lack of clear communication about the marking process. Even when marking is fair, if participants don’t know:
- How marks are awarded and weighted
- What constitutes critical versus minor errors
- How tie-breaks are resolved
then gaps appear for suspicion to grow. Over the years, I have come to believe that transparency is as important as technical fairness. When results are announced without explanation, it fuels uncertainty and speculation.
Comparisons Across Diverse Abiilties and Backgrounds
Especially in younger or entry-level categories, children come in with vastly different levels of support at home, access to quality teachers, and natural aptitude. Even with strict age or juz’ boundaries, ability can vary widely. So, a child who improved massively from struggling to fluent may still be beaten by someone with a “head start.” To contestants and parents, this can feel deeply dispiriting. The system may be fair, but life outside the system isn’t.
Handling of Mistakes and Pressure
In my years of judging, I’ve watched brilliant students freeze or stumble under the glare of scrutiny. A student who makes a rare mistake can score lower than another who is less advanced overall, but had a good day. Explaining that competitions reward performance “on the day”, while a student’s actual effort or daily skill might be higher, is a subtle but painful truth for many families. Again, it feels unfair, but isn’t — it’s simply the nature of live performance.
Lessons for Organisers and Teachers
1. Communicate Early, Communicate Often
From registration onwards, detail the rules and marking schemes clearly. Host pre-competition briefings. After the event, offer to debrief marks with participants (even individual feedback if possible). Demystifying the process builds trust and helps contestants see how outcomes were reached, even if they’re disappointed.
2. Emphasise Educational Value and Growth
Frame competitions as catalysts for development, not endpoints. Celebrate personal milestones in memorisation, tajweed, or confidence — not just the trophy. Encourage teachers to recognise growth regardless of rank, and to share these stories with parents.
3. Train Judges — and Support Them
Invest in judge training not only on technical rules, but also on communication and handling difficult conversations. Judges are often volunteers under immense pressure; support them with peer check-ins and clear roles. Rotate judging panels to reduce the risk or perception of bias.
4. Provide Channels for Feedback
Create a formal (and calm) process for participants or families to raise concerns, rather than relying on informal “grapevine” complaints. When possible, invite an independent observer to audit or review the proceedings.
Advice for Participants and Families
- Set realistic expectations. Remind children (and yourselves) that competitions are a moment in time, not a full measure of worth, sincerity, or future potential.
- Value the journey. Reflect on the discipline, progress, and deeper connection to the Quran attained through preparation, regardless of medals.
- Understand the odds. In fields with many participants, only a few can place. The difference between first and fifth may be a single slip, not a deficiency in effort or value.
- Channel disappointment positively. Allow room for sadness, but model resilience. Help your child process feelings, learn from errors, and plan for the next step.
- Appreciate diverse strengths. Some excel at stage performance, others at quiet consistency. Recognising this can temper envy or hurt.
The Deeper Purpose: Beyond Winning
It’s easy to lose sight of the true ethos behind Quran competitions. Ultimately, the aim is to motivate, build community, and elevate the Quran in our hearts and lives. Judges and organisers are imperfect, but so too are all processes shaped by human hands. Our children — and we ourselves — will benefit most when we hold firm to the spirit of gradual, sincere growth.
In my own experience, some former “losers” have gone on to become outstanding reciters, imams, or teachers — buoyed by perseverance, not medals. Those who learnt to accept setbacks with grace often became the most effective mentors to the next generation.
So, the next time you attend or help organise a competition, remember: despite best efforts, feelings of unfairness may arise, but they’re not proof of actual injustice. Often, they reflect the depth of care and passion our communities pour into these endeavours. Let us meet that passion with honesty, compassion, and a renewed commitment to the broader mission we serve.
If you need help with your Quran competition platform or marking tools, email info@qurancompetitions.tech.