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Al-Ahram Weekly 20 - 26 January 2000 Issue No. 465 
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Published in Cairo by AL-AHRAM established in 1875 |
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Al-Ahram Weekly 20 - 26 January 2000 Issue No. 465
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| Published in Cairo by AL-AHRAM established in 1875 |
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Egypt Region International Economy Opinion Culture Features Profile Travel Living Sports People Time Out Chronicles Cartoons Letters The faces behind the numbers
By Fatemah Farag
After reading a bunch of figures on the labour market in 1999 and pondering their accuracy, the question remains: what does all this mean in real life?
For someone like Karima Abdel-Fattah, there has been much on offer. Working at a slick advertising company which makes brochures for a wide selection of companies opening up and expanding under a policy of investment promotion, she has much to be happy about. She works in a fancy office and makes a salary that finances imported clothes and a mobile phone, not to mention a life style which includes salsa lessons, dining out at Cairo's trendy night spots and vacations to her favourite island in Greece.
Her mother offers a contrast. "I was also a young professional like Karima, but in my days there were not that many job opportunities and the stores did not have such nice things to buy. Even if you had the money to buy a better car it was not available. Egypt has definitely changed for the better."
Mohamed Khayri, a graduate of the Faculty of Commerce at Cairo University, is not so sure. He also has been employed by a multi-national, but the set-up is not as fancy; he delivers fast food. "People from my district [the working class area of El-Marg] cannot find jobs," he explains as he leans against the company motorcycle waiting for an order. "I consider working for this company a lucky break. The work is okay, not in my field of course, but then how many graduates have been lucky enough to find jobs."
Not far from where he stands is a micro-bus depot. On a five-minute break sipping tea is Abdel-Fattah, a driver. "The government no longer offers jobs and my family cannot sit around and wait. I have a diploma and so does my brother. My brother went for one year to Iraq and saved some money which we added to my father's life savings and we paid the down payment on the car you see there," he said, pointing towards a shabby, dangerous-looking vehicle. "We work the thing day and night to make the instalments. We know of too many people who were thrown into prison because they could not keep up with the payments."
It is a tough life, but there are those who are even worse off. "The worst thing is not to have any work at all," claimed Mahrous, who has come to Cairo from Assiut in search of day work. "I used to do seasonal work in agriculture. But this is very difficult to find these days, so I came to the city." Every day, Mahrous will come to the men's market in the working-class district of El-Zawya El-Hamra in search of a contractor to buy his labour power for the day.
In villages such as Mahrous', people are finding it more and more difficult to make a living. "I cultivate one feddan," explained Fardous, "Following the new agricultural law, I have to pay over LE1,000 per crop as rent in addition to very expensive fertiliser and seeds. In the end the crop does not amount to much. I have seven children and my husband is dead. My children work with me and on the land of other farmers. They do not make much but we are farmers and know nothing else. We never had enough money to learn anything else," she added despondently looking at the dirt floor beneath her.
