An aerial view of Cairo's traffic and compressed houses with new houses project (Reuters)
Sudanese refugee Mohannad had only been in Cairo a few weeks when his landlady told him he would have to pay triple the rent if he wanted to keep his apartment.
He had arrived with his wife and three children in the Egyptian capital -- 2,000 kilometres (1,200 miles) north of his home in Khartoum -- two weeks after the brutal war between Sudan's rival generals broke out on April 15.
Mohannad, 35, signed a six-month lease for a furnished apartment for 6,000 Egyptian pounds ($195) per month -- the average monthly income for an Egyptian family, according to official figures.
But "my landlady told me that the rent had gone up to 18,000 pounds," said Mohannad, who like others interviewed by AFP gave only his first name to protect his privacy.
At around the same time, he found out his home in the Sudanese capital had been broken into and looted.
When he refused the increase, "she said she had other Sudanese takers who were willing to pay 25,000 pounds".
Mohannad and his family eventually packed up and left.
Inflation in Egypt hit a record high of 36.8 percent in June, and the pound has lost half its value against the US dollar since early last year.
Purchasing power in the import-dependent economy has been slashed as families struggle to make ends meet.
New arrivals face the same hardships, with realtors reporting a sharp increase in demand in the satellite city of 6 October, west of Cairo.
Sudanese families scramble to find housing there, near the offices of the United Nations refugee agency UNHCR.
Within weeks, "there was nothing left to rent, after a period of stagnation on the local market", said Mohamed, an independent realtor who asked to be identified by first name only, fearing scrutiny by authorities.
And rents have soared well above market prices.
"The average rent for a furnished apartment used to be 7,000-8,000 pounds, now it's up to 10,000 and more the closer you are to the UNHCR offices," the realtor told AFP.
Another broker, who also requested anonymity, said rent prices in the traditionally well-off neighbourhood of Heliopolis in eastern Cairo used to be similar to 6 October rates before the influx of Sudanese refugees, but within months have climbed to 12,000 pounds.
Ashraf, a Sudanese man in his 40s, managed to rent an unfurnished apartment for his family of nine in Hadayek al-Ahram, a working class neighbourhood near the Giza pyramids.
But within a week of moving in, "prices for the same type of unit had gone up from 3,500 to 5,000", he told AFP.
The main cause of the surge in prices across Cairo is not the arrival of many Sudanese, according to real estate market analyst Mahmud al-Lithy Nassef.
"As residents of central Cairo move out of the city to new satellite cities, they've converted their old units to sources of revenue," he said.
The analyst pointed to past surges in demand.
Iraqis, Yemenis and Syrians have all flocked to Egypt to escape conflicts in their countries, and yet the local market had always stabilized, he said.
But until it does, some refugees are being left with nowhere to turn.
Jamal Mustafa to Asharq Al-Awsat: I Couldn’t Provide Bribe Demanded by Judge, So I Was Jailed for Another 10 Yearshttps://english.aawsat.com/features/5085869-jamal-mustafa-asharq-al-awsat-i-couldn%E2%80%99t-provide-bribe-demanded-judge-so-i-was
Jamal Mustafa to Asharq Al-Awsat: I Couldn’t Provide Bribe Demanded by Judge, So I Was Jailed for Another 10 Years
Saddam Hussein and Jamal Mustafa Sultan.
In the final installment of his interview with Asharq Al-Awsat, Jamal Mustafa Sultan, a former Iraqi official and Saddam Hussein’s son-in-law, delves into his arrest, the collapse of hopes for resistance against US forces, and the turmoil that followed the American invasion of Iraq in 2003.
Mustafa faced a harsh journey during the 2003 US invasion of Iraq. He traveled to rally tribal leaders to defend Baghdad, only to return and find the city occupied. Declared a fugitive, his face appeared on the US “most-wanted” playing cards.
Mustafa fled to Syria but was denied asylum and sent back to Iraq, where he was arrested. Accused of leading resistance and car bombings, the court found no evidence to convict him.
In 2011, a judge offered him release in exchange for a bribe, which Mustafa could not afford. His proposal to sell family land to pay was rejected, leaving him imprisoned for another decade. He was eventually freed over lack of evidence.
After his release, Mustafa went to Erbil, where Kurdish leader Masoud Barzani invited him for a meeting. Barzani welcomed him warmly and asked how he could help. Mustafa requested assistance in obtaining a passport, praising Barzani’s generosity.
Mustafa shared that Saddam respected Barzani, once calling him a “tough but honorable opponent.” He also revealed that, before the 2003 US invasion of Iraq, Barzani had assured Saddam that Kurdish forces would not fight the Iraqi army.
Recalling the lead-up to the war, Mustafa said Saddam tasked him with reconnecting with tribal leaders to encourage them to resist the invasion.
He delivered personal messages from Saddam, along with financial support, to help tribes host Iraqi soldiers stationed nearby. Mustafa later traveled to the Anbar province to rally tribes and bring them to defend Baghdad.
This account offers a rare glimpse into the behind-the-scenes efforts to resist the US invasion and the complex relationships that shaped Iraq’s history.
As the US invasion loomed, Mustafa met with thousands of tribal leaders to rally support for Baghdad’s defense.
“During the war, I met with over 4,500 tribal sheikhs from across Iraq,” he said. But when he returned to Baghdad after a trip to Anbar, everything had changed. “The city had fallen, and everything was in chaos.”
Mustafa tried to locate his associates but found no one. On April 11, 2003, he sent his driver to search for allies.
By chance, his brother, Lt. Gen. Kamal Mustafa, located him. “He told me we needed to leave Baghdad. I hadn’t planned to leave, but he convinced me it was the logical choice—we had no weapons, no men, and no resources. Staying would only mean capture.”
The brothers fled to Ramadi, where tribal leaders offered them refuge, and from there, they attempted to seek asylum in Syria. After just two days, Syrian authorities sent them back to Iraq.
Back in Baghdad, Mustafa and Khalid Najm, Iraq’s last intelligence chief, stayed with a university friend, Dr. Hafidh Al-Dulaimi. While there, Al-Dulaimi’s nephew suggested surrendering to Ahmed Chalabi’s forces, but Mustafa refused.
Shortly after, armed men stormed the house. “They came with tanks and masks,” Mustafa recalled. He and Najm were arrested on April 21, 2003—a day he will never forget.
Mustafa shared his experiences in US detention after his capture. “The interrogations were relentless, often involving psychological and physical pressure,” he added.
“They focused on weapons of mass destruction—’did Iraq have them, and where were they?’ Everyone faced the same questions. They also asked about US pilot Michael Scott Speicher, whose plane was shot down during the Gulf War. Though his remains were later found, the Americans kept questioning us, believing more was being hidden.”
Life in the detention center was highly controlled. Detainees were grouped in blocks of seven and given 30 minutes of outdoor time. Sultan recalled a chilling moment when Ahmed Hussein, Saddam’s office chief, told him during exercise: “The president has been captured.”
“We had clung to hope that Saddam’s freedom could lead to Iraq’s liberation,” Mustafa said. “His arrest shattered that hope and signaled the occupation’s permanence.”
He also described mysterious construction in the prison. “We saw carpenters working constantly. Eventually, they built a wooden barrier, blocking the corridor from view. We could only guess what it was for.”
When asked if Saddam had led the resistance before his capture, Mustafa confirmed: “Yes, the resistance began after the war. It wasn’t planned in advance because, at that time, the focus was purely military—army against army.”
“After the occupation, a new phase started. Battles unfolded in stages, and Saddam was leading the resistance during this one. He was the hope of the resistance, of the Iraqi people, and of Arabs and Muslims,” Mustafa revealed.
His remarks offer a glimpse into the post-invasion dynamics and the symbolic role Saddam played during Iraq’s turbulent transition.
Mustafa also recounted the difficulty of reaching his family after his arrest.
“After my capture, I lost all contact with my family. I didn’t have any phone numbers for my brothers, friends, or colleagues. Even if I had, phone lines had been disrupted—many exchanges had been bombed, and communication in Iraq was severely impacted,” he told Asharq Al-Awsat.
Mustafa recalled an encounter with the International Red Cross during his detention.
“The Red Cross offered me the chance to write a message to my family, as is their usual practice. But I was at a loss—who could I write to? I had no idea where my brothers or family were. I didn’t know anything about their whereabouts.”
Then, Mustafa had an idea. “I thought of Ammo Baba, a well-known football coach in Iraq. I didn’t know his address, but I remembered the address of the Police Club, where I had been president. I decided to write the letter there, addressed to Ammo Baba, asking him to pass it on to my family.”
Mustafa’s story highlights the communication challenges and isolation faced by detainees during the Iraq War.
He then described the prolonged separation from his family following his arrest. “I had no hopes of hearing from my family when I sent my letter through Ammo Baba,” Mustafa said.
“The situation was too difficult. After two and a half to three months, I received a response from Ammo Baba. He sent his regards, inquired about my health, and included a message from Yassin, a coach who worked with me. Along with the letter, they sent me sportswear—a shirt and shorts.”
Mustafa’s communication with his family may have been limited, but the letter served as a lifeline.
“A couple of years later, I received the first message from my wife, Hala, after two years in detention.”
When asked if he had been separated from his family for 18 years, Mustafa confirmed: “Yes, I hadn’t seen them or my children for 18 and a half years.”
“There were no visits or conversations, except for a brief period when we were held by the Americans. During that time, they allowed us five minutes a week to speak with our families. I would split the time—two and a half minutes with my mother and siblings, and the rest with my wife and daughters,” he said.
However, he revealed that after 2010, communication was cut off entirely.
“When we were transferred to Iraqi custody, they stopped allowing any contact. I was careful not to make calls with the Iraqis, as I feared enemies or foreign agents could record them,” explained Mustafa.
Mustafa’s story underscores the isolation he endured and the limited means of contact with his loved ones during years of detention.