Al-Ahram Weekly On-line
22 - 28 February 2001
Issue No.522
Published in Cairo by AL-AHRAM established in 1875 Current issue | Previous issue | Site map

Ruffled feathers

By Reem Leila


photo: Randa Shaath
It is one of the ultimate tests of any self-respecting homemaker's mettle: the trip to the poultry shop. There, the ritual is well known: the potential purchaser selects a fowl from one of the cages stacked floor to ceiling, the vendor extracts the reluctant bird, the discerning client jabs at its breast, assumes an air of dissatisfaction and shakes her head in adamant disapproval ("her" head, for such tasks -- unlike the selection of fruit, for instance -- are the province of women), points out another, repeats the poking process, sniffs in resignation, then nods. Thereupon the vendor whips out the knife, slaps the squawking victim down on the block and slits its throat without more ado. The deal is concluded, and the home-maker takes herself home, there to pluck her chicken, wash it and prepare it as she sees fit.

Poultry shops can be found all over Cairo; the birds are brought in on small trailer vans, in piles of crates roughly lined with straw, and shoppers on their morning grocery rounds can pick out those they deem worthy of consumption. On an even more ad hoc scale, peddlers bearing a cage or two attached to a bicycle will stop and cut a chicken's throat by the side of the street before turning it over to the consumer. Dorriya Essameddin, an employee at the Ministry of Electricity, sums up the attitude of many chicken eaters pleased with this informal arrangement. "My family cannot eat something if they don't know where it came from. I can't swallow a bite if I didn't see the bird being slaughtered in front of me. Besides, I have to check it before it is slaughtered, to know whether or not it is good. I would never buy a chicken from the supermarket already slaughtered. Who's to say where it's been?" As for frozen chicken -- Essameddin turns up her nose in disgust. The very idea is unspeakable.

Decree 1835/2000, however, aims to put an end to casual chicken killing. Poultry, according to Minister of Agriculture Youssef Wali, must be slaughtered in slaughterhouses, regardless of whether the act itself is carried out manually or mechanically. The decree further stipulates that all slaughterhouses are to be moved outside the city. Poultry shops and slaughterhouses alike will be granted a two-year grace period during which they must comply with its terms. The centralisation and isolation of the process have been justified on environmental grounds, since the waste generated by slaughterhouses is said to be a source of pollution. Sanitary considerations have also been cited, since closer supervision theoretically means improved hygiene, and the elimination of diseased birds from the food chain.

Hassan Aidaross, head of the Veterinary Service Authority (VSA), says the decree was issued only after careful research. "It has established certain conditions that slaughterhouses must fulfil," he explains. "In the past, slaughterhouses received a licence from the Local Council. Now, they must apply for a licence to the Ministry of Agriculture, besides receiving a certificate of approval from the VSA. These are the only authorities qualified to issue licences."

Besides redistributing bureaucratic competences, the decree also states that a slaughterhouse must cover a minimum space of 200 square metres, to be divided into two sections: one where the poultry is slaughtered and cleaned, and another where it is prepared and wrapped for sale. Daily logs must report the condition of the birds, as a guarantee that they are fit for human consumption. "The new decree," notes Aidaross, "will mean that slaughterhouses are environmentally sound. Egypt is already suffocating from pollution; there is no need to increase it." The VSA plans to resort to a specialised company to dispose of poultry waste, he adds.

The decree, however, also means that a thriving cottage industry, made up of hundreds of thousands of small vendors, for whom the breeding and sale of chickens is a crucial source of income, will be eliminated in favour of larger firms, which can afford to invest in a slaughterhouse, thereby benefiting further from economies of scale. While housewives will still be able to breed chickens, pigeons and ducks on the rooftops, as is now the case all over the country, they will be forced to sell them in secret, to a small circle of relatives and friends. Against this harm to low-income households, the decree's benefits include minimised risk of disease borne by chickens that are ill or slaughtered in unhygienic conditions, and the elimination of gory scenes involving blood and feathers from the capital's streets.

Poultry shop owners, at any rate, are up in arms. They will be forced to transfer their activities outside the city, to one of the new slaughterhouses, or see their business shut down. They fear -- rightly, it would seem -- that their clientele will disappear once they are no longer easily accessible.

Sayed Ismail, who sells chickens in Imbaba, sees the new decree as "a disaster." Like most poultry vendors, he cannot afford to convert his shop into a manual slaughterhouse, let alone put down the capital required for transfer to other premises. "The idea of moving us all outside the city is absurd. No one will buy from us anymore," he protests. Sha'ban Hosni, the owner of a small slaughterhouse where chickens are slaughtered the traditional way, by hand, is equally frustrated. The decree, he believes, is unfair to small entrepreneurs like him. "I am old, and I have three daughters who bring in no income," he explains. "My only option is to sell out, or close down. My health is not good enough to allow me to commute long distances every day. That means I will soon be unable to feed my family," he says in despair.

The decree, then, could make things very difficult for many vendors. Hussein El-Sayed, who inherited a small slaughterhouse from his father, feels the problem lies in a misunderstanding between poultry sellers and the government. "Most manual slaughterhouses are considered no more than large poultry shops," he maintains. "The ministry is not aware of the difference in status."

Aidaross agrees that consumers will no longer go to poultry shops for their dinner. Instead, they will have to buy chicken from the supermarket, which in turn will be supplied by the new slaughterhouses. The poultry will reach the purchaser slaughtered and plucked. "Having shops selling chickens all over town is hardly a civilised image," he explains.

According to Mona Mukhtar, a veterinarian at the VSA, poultry having passed through the slaughterhouse will obtain an official certificate stating its fitness for human consumption. "It's much safer for people to buy a chicken that is guaranteed to be 100 per cent healthy, instead of checking it themselves," she says. "There are many diseases that ordinary people cannot detect in a superficial examination of the bird." Since consumer protection is the aim of the new decree, she adds, poultry shop owners who do not comply will be subject to a host of penalties, ranging from fines to seeing their establishments forcibly closed down.

The majority of slaughterhouses that operate on a partially or fully mechanised basis will not face a real problem, however, since they deal mainly with bulk distribution. The owner of one partially mechanised slaughterhouse said he did not care whether he stayed where he was or moved to a site outside town. "I will carry on selling to supermarkets, just as I do now. If the government tells me I have to move, I will -- it makes no difference to me," he shrugged. "All we ask for is that the new place be well prepared. We need water, electricity and drainage."

All of those affected by the decree, however, are equally confused as to whether the government will provide them with space for free, in exchange for the shops they currently occupy, or whether they will be asked to purchase new premises they can ill afford. Poultry shop owner Ashraf El-Sayed, from Bulaq, is puzzled. "I don't understand: are we supposed to sell our shops and buy shares in a slaughterhouse, or can we turn over our shops to the government and receive a slaughterhouse in exchange?" he demands. "I can't sell my shop -- that's ridiculous. I don't have any extra money, and I certainly can't afford to move outside the city in the hope that people will come all the way out there for a chicken or two. The government should ask our opinion before taking such decisions," he concludes firmly.

It seems clear, however, that the state will not take responsibility for providing anything beyond the site itself, and the extension of utilities such as water and electricity. "It is up to the people to adjust, each according to his circumstances," says Mukhtar.

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