Sent abroad, then shut out

For many Egyptian women, the Gulf represents not just a destination for work; for many, it means financial survival. As inflation rises and stable jobs in Egypt remain scarce, domestic work, home nursing, and service-sector jobs abroad offer wages that sustain entire families, positioning migration as a golden opportunity despite the risks.

In 2009, the Ministry of Manpower and Migration contracted 500 Egyptian women to work as school cleaners in the Gulf. Amid a freeze on domestic government hiring, the move was framed as a necessary solution. At the time, MP Mustafa Bakri condemned it as an “insult” and warned the project would “jeopardize the future prospects of these girls and women.” Despite the political outcry, the deal proceeded. 

Today, the landscape has shifted entirely. In April, the same ministry—now renamed the Ministry of Labor—issued a decree barring Egyptian women from working abroad in cafes, restaurants, and domestic service roles. The government cited a desire to “preserve the dignity and safety of Egyptian women from potential exploitation or unsuitable working conditions.” Yet this decision was met with equal backlash to the 2009 controversy. 

The primary destination for Egyptian labor

Arab countries remain the primary destination for Egyptian expatriate labor. Saudi Arabia leads with approximately 3.5 million Egyptians, representing 52% of total work permits issued since 2017. Jordan follows with 1.25 million, the UAE with nearly one million, Kuwait (where Egyptians make up 21.8% of the total workforce) with 700,000, and Qatar with 250,000.

While these statistics do not provide a gender breakdown, Egyptian women in the Gulf are concentrated in healthcare, education, and service roles. The International Labour Organization (ILO) classifies domestic work as one of the most vulnerable sectors due to its private nature and contractual systems that limit worker mobility.

Fatima Mohamed, 33, has spent five years navigating the highs and lows of domestic work in Saudi Arabia. “The first house I worked in was a shock; they didn’t respect me,” she tells Al Manassa. “I didn’t stay long because they kicked me out.”

“The second house was slightly better,” she added, “But I was deprived of my most basic rights: no vacations, no visits to my family—just constant work and long silences.” Born in the Sharqiya Governorate, Fatima earned her commerce diploma in Egypt but struggled to find work until she moved abroad.

She now finds her source of income banned under the Ministry of Labor’s new directive. The sole provider for her ailing mother and younger sister, Fatima cannot afford to stop working while seeking “suitable” employment.

Equally blindsided by the decree was Hassania Ahmed, 46. “The state wants to impose its guardianship over Egyptian women abroad? If so, it should provide alternatives that offer a decent wage,” she told Al Manassa.

A nursing diploma holder from Egypt’s Menoufiya Governorate, Hassania's journey in Saudi Arabia began five years ago when her husband, already working in the Kingdom, sent her an invitation for Umrah, a “lesser pilgrimage” to Mecca.

“When I arrived, someone told my husband a local family was looking for a home nurse to care for a Saudi woman,” she tells Al Manassa. Hassania regularized her status through the Egyptian Ministry of Labor, obtaining a professional license that she renews annually. For her, the ban means an abrupt stop to the very work that sustains her family.

A claim of “compounded discrimination”

The decision has sparked fears among female workers, who risk losing their livelihoods. With inflation soaring and the cost of living in Egypt spiraling, many see the ban as a death knell. Human rights groups have been quick to react; the Egyptian Initiative for Personal Rights (EIPR) called for its immediate cancellation, arguing it violates the fundamental rights of women to work and move freely.

“Irrational economic policies stifle domestic job opportunities for women, yet when they seek to improve their lives by working abroad the state imposes bans and discriminatory conditions,” the EIPR stated. They noted that this “compounded discrimination” specifically targets women with limited education lack access to the labor protection systems available to wage workers.

This “compounded discrimination” targets women with limited education who often fall outside labor protection systems

Dr. Walaa Ismail, founder of the Mothers in Exile Initiative, argued the ban may be counterproductive, since it contained no mention of financial support for families losing their primary income. “Instead of protecting workers, it may expose some to further exploitation from their sponsor (kafeel) if they try to circumvent the ban,” Ismail explains.

Furthermore, she argues that the Egyptian state has failed to provide a safety net or psychological support for these workers. She contrasts this with the Philippines, which, since 2021, has consolidated overseas worker protections under a single agency—the Department of Migrant Workers. The department’s global network of on-site offices provide legal aid, mandatory insurance, and formal grievance mechanisms; Egypt, Ismail argues, has no equivalent.

A belated decision

Other voices support the decree, viewing it as a necessary measure to regulate the employment conditions of Egyptian women abroad. Among them is Rami Labib, president of the General Union of Egyptians in Bahrain, who told Al Manassa the decision is “long overdue,” given the rising number of women working abroad without adequate awareness of their rights.

Labib argues that many of the problems stem from recruitment through informal channels and private contracts that fall outside government oversight, making violations harder to monitor.

Fawzi Badawi, Gulf lead for the Union of Egyptian Youth Abroad, welcomed the move as a “significant step toward preserving the dignity of Egyptian women.” He hopes the decree will protect women from exploitative environments and lead to tighter oversight of recruitment agencies.

The Ministry of Labor remains silent on the decree’s specifics and Al Manassa did not obtain a response from the ministry about the government’s ultimate goal. This leaves a sharp divide between those who view the ban as essential protection and those who fear it will drive women into riskier, informal labor.

For workers like Hassania, the state has chosen the path of least resistance: prohibition disguised as protection. She argues the government should instead “support its citizens abroad by activating embassies and addressing violations with rigor.” Fatima is not yet considering a return to Egypt. Neither can she shake the mounting anxiety over the Ministry of Labor’s decision and its looming consequences.