Between Vulnerability and Exploitation: Sudanese Refugee Women in Egypt and the Struggle for Survival (Part 1 of 2)

Sudan Media Forum

Cairo, June 28, 2026 - Since the outbreak of war in Sudan in April 2023, nearly 1.5 million Sudanese have fled to Egypt, according to data from the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR). Women and children make up the majority of those who arrived. For thousands of Sudanese refugee women, however, displacement has brought a harsh economic reality, forcing them to seek any available source of income after losing their jobs, savings, and livelihoods.

In factories, farms, and private homes across Egypt, Sudanese refugee women work long hours for low wages, often without employment contracts or legal and social protections. Many previously held professional positions in education, administration, or other skilled fields and possessed university degrees, yet the war has pushed them into physically demanding manual labor far removed from their qualifications and experience.

This investigation is based on field testimonies from Sudanese refugee women employed in manufacturing, agriculture, and domestic work across several Egyptian governorates. It also draws on interviews with legal experts and specialists in refugee and gender issues, as well as a review of Egyptian legislation and reports by international organizations.

Although the women interviewed come from different backgrounds, their testimonies reveal a strikingly similar pattern of vulnerability. Nearly all arrived in Egypt in 2023 or 2024 and hold refugee registration cards issued by UNHCR. Most found employment through brokers, intermediaries, or personal networks due to the absence of formal recruitment channels. Daily wages generally range between 150 and 300 Egyptian pounds for shifts lasting eight to twelve hours—and sometimes as long as sixteen hours. Delayed wage payments, arbitrary deductions, and the near-total absence of formal contracts or legal guarantees are common experiences.

From Professional Careers to Manual Labor

The transition from professional careers to manual labor was not an exception among the women interviewed for this investigation; it was the norm.

Among them are teachers, school principals, government administrators, university graduates in medical sciences, computer science, and accounting, and even the owner of a kindergarten. The war forced them to abandon careers they had spent years building, only to find themselves working in plastic, chocolate, and frozen-food factories, or on grape, strawberry, and berry farms.

H.A.M., a computer science graduate who previously worked in the accounting department of a government institution in Sudan, says that after arriving in Egypt she found no option but factory and farm work to support her family. She moved between packaging, chocolate, and plastic factories and also worked on berry farms, often putting in shifts of up to 12 hours a day.

She explains that many job opportunities are advertised online or shared informally among workers, while some are controlled by brokers who demand payment in exchange for employment opportunities—a practice she refused to participate in.

“Access to jobs usually comes through online advertisements or informal networks among workers,” she says. “Women often help each other find positions inside factories because there are no stable or formal recruitment channels.”

She describes working conditions as highly uneven. Some factories provide basic facilities, while others lack even minimal rest areas or essential amenities. Job responsibilities frequently change after employment begins. Tasks initially agreed upon as packaging work often expand to include loading and transporting products without additional pay.

“In some cases, women are required to load products and move them onto delivery trucks, even though the original agreement was limited to packaging work,” she says.

The experience of N.M.M., a former teacher and mother of five, is not much different. After fleeing Sudan and settling in an industrial city in Egypt, she worked in frozen-food factories and grape farms. Her daily wage gradually increased from 150 to around 240 Egyptian pounds, but irregular employment left her income unstable.

She says some employers prefer hiring workers from other nationalities, while Sudanese women are sometimes excluded because of their age or simply told they are not needed.

The lack of formal contracts, she adds, leaves workers at the mercy of brokers. She and her daughter were both victims of fraud schemes that cost them thousands of Egyptian pounds, with no mechanism for recovering their losses.

“I lost about 3,000 pounds in one incident involving both me and my daughter, and another 2,500 pounds in a separate case,” she says.

Yet what troubles her most is not the long working hours, but the necessity of leaving her children unattended for extended periods while she works.

For Z.M.A., a 55-year-old former vice principal, the shift from educational work to factories and farms was among the most difficult consequences of the war. She says she sometimes works two consecutive shifts totaling up to 16 hours a day to cover living and medical expenses. Older women face additional barriers in finding work because employers generally prefer younger laborers.

She notes that many workers do not even know who their actual employer is, as employment arrangements are often handled through contractors and intermediaries. This makes filing complaints or claiming rights extremely difficult, especially when wages are reduced because of alleged production or quality issues and workers fear losing their jobs altogether.

N.A.A., a former school principal from Omdurman, offers an even harsher account of working conditions. After arriving in Egypt, she found work in fruit and vegetable packaging factories. However, she says the tasks assigned to her went far beyond the original agreement, including carrying heavy sacks, cutting vegetables, and working long hours.

The physical strain left her with a herniated disc, chronic back pain, and respiratory problems caused by working in onion and frozen-fruit packaging sections under unsuitable conditions.

She recalls one experience in a factory where she agreed to a daily wage of 400 Egyptian pounds under a productivity-based system.

“After I packed 50 out of the required 55 boxes, I was shocked to receive only 300 pounds,” she says. “One hundred pounds had been deducted because I supposedly failed to meet the production target.”

Her account is echoed by A.A., another agricultural worker, who says: “Working conditions were unstable. Sometimes women were not paid at all, or they were dismissed at the end of the day without receiving any wages.”

In another incident, N.A.A. says the owner of a factory entered the production area intoxicated, shouting and slamming tables in front of workers. When she attempted to leave in protest, she was instructed to continue working.

Later, she suffered a finger injury in another factory, but the person responsible for first aid refused to treat her. She bandaged the wound herself to avoid losing a day’s wages.

“Some workers face discrimination and bullying from supervisors or even fellow workers,” she says. “I have diabetes, and some supervisors refuse to allow me to use the restroom when I need to, despite my medical condition.”

Summarizing the transformation imposed on her by the war, she says:

“I used to carry chalk and a pen. Today I am humiliated in jobs that have nothing to do with the years I spent studying and teaching. All I want is to return to my homeland.”

The experience of H.M.A., a computer science graduate and former kindergarten owner in Sudan, follows a similar pattern. Economic hardship pushed her into agricultural labor. Eventually, she had to bring her two daughters, aged 17 and 14, to work alongside her so the family could afford rent and basic necessities—a stark illustration of how the war has affected not only employment but also children’s futures and education.

“The first shift began at five in the morning in grape farms,” she recalls. “Then we moved to another farm to work in strawberry fields. The work required keeping our hands raised for long periods while handling grapevines or remaining bent over while harvesting strawberries. Breaks lasted no more than ten minutes.”

“At the beginning of 2024, each shift paid 150 pounds, so we worked two shifts a day to earn 300 pounds. Whenever school exams approached, we would stop one of the girls from working temporarily so she could study.”

M.K.A., 26, a graduate of a medical laboratory sciences program who now works on a strawberry farm, describes conditions as harsh.

“Workers receive only one short break for food after hours of continuous labor,” she says. “Food and drinking water are sometimes stolen, and there are no clear mechanisms for complaints or protection. I have repeatedly experienced racism and mistreatment.”

She also developed a skin allergy after direct exposure to chemical fertilizers without gloves or protective equipment. She highlights transportation risks as well, noting that vehicles carrying workers to farms were often overcrowded beyond capacity, increasing the risk of accidents and making the daily commute even more difficult.

D.B.A., 39, a mother of four, offers a different story. She arrived in Egypt in 2023 with an impressive academic and professional background. She is an industrial engineer, a medical school graduate, and a recipient of an award for Best Young Female Inventor in Syria. Yet these achievements did not shield her from the realities of displacement and precarious work.

She moved between several Egyptian cities in search of employment and eventually worked in factories and farms. Thanks to her expertise, she was promoted from factory worker to engineer. But she says the promotion brought new pressures and hostility.

She became an unwelcome competitor, she explains, and colleagues allegedly attempted to undermine her professionally by tampering with export shipments and shifting responsibility onto her.

She also experienced repeated verbal abuse and harassment. On one occasion, she says, an engineer shoved her violently, causing her to hit a wall. Even after she transferred to the human resources department, the psychological and professional pressures continued.

Her monthly salary was approximately 6,000 Egyptian pounds and could reach 15,000 pounds with allowances and bonuses. Yet deductions often reduced her earnings by nearly 4,000 pounds each month.

Eventually, she returned to daily-wage work in factories and farms, earning between 140 and 180 pounds per day. Later she worked as a caregiver for an elderly woman, drawing on her medical background, for 200 pounds a day. She left the job after experiencing sexual harassment from the homeowner’s son and returned once again to factory and farm work.

Among those interviewed, W.A.A., 39, who holds a university degree in business administration, had one of the more positive experiences. In Sudan, she worked in the public relations department of an airline company. In Egypt, she secured employment at a women’s clothing factory, working nine-hour shifts for a weekly wage of 750 pounds.

However, she notes that occupational safety measures were inadequate.

“One worker suffered an injury serious enough to require hospitalization,” she says.

After the factory owner discovered her computer skills and ability to manage documentation and administrative tasks, she was promoted to the accounting department with a monthly salary of 5,500 pounds.

• The Sudan Media Forum and its member organizations are publishing this investigation in two parts to reveal how the war in Sudan has pushed dozens of refugee women—many of whom previously worked in professional and administrative careers and held university degrees—onto factory production lines, agricultural fields, and into domestic labor after seeking refuge in Egypt.

Their testimonies demonstrate that academic qualifications and professional experience have not translated into employment opportunities matching their expertise. Instead, the urgent need for income has often exposed them to exploitation, abuse, and precarious working conditions, highlighting the profound vulnerability of refugee women living without adequate protection.