It did not take the scene more than a few minutes to prove its strangeness. A man wearing the clothes of a delivery worker bearing the “Talabat” logo, riding an electric scooter through the streets of Cairo, carrying an order to a customer. The reply came quickly when “Mina” realised that someone was filming him with a mobile phone camera: “I am a doctor of pharmacy.”
Pharmacists in Egypt suffer from overlapping difficulties, most notably the erosion of the working capital of individual pharmacies and legislative stagnation accompanied by institutional paralysis resulting from the imposition of judicial receivership on the General Syndicate of Pharmacists in February 2019.
On 13 February 2019, the Court of Urgent Matters ruled to impose judicial receivership on the General Syndicate of Pharmacists following disputes within the Syndicate’s board, and the ruling was actually implemented on 30 April 2019 with the appointment of a judicial receiver to run it, which led to the suspension of syndicate elections and the absence of a legitimate negotiating umbrella to review government assignment decisions, reach fair tax agreements, or oblige companies to comply with the terms of Decree 499.
And data indicate that the number of pharmacists registered with the Syndicate reaches 370,000. Egypt has 74 faculties of pharmacy, only 23 of them at public universities, which graduate together about 25,000 a year.
However, the situation of pharmacists is not isolated from other professions that suffer from low wages. According to statements, the average wages of pharmacists range between EGP 8,000 and EGP 12,000, while annual urban inflation was recorded at 14.5% in August 2026.
Mai Abdel Samad, a pharmacist who graduated in 2022, tells Zawia3 that a pharmacist’s salary in private hospitals in 2024 ranged between EGP 5,500 and EGP 5,800 a month, according to her experience at a large private hospital, and adds that this wage was when she had one year of experience.
“Mai” did not turn to work in medical promotion, according to her, because she prefers clinical work, explaining that the work system relied on shifts lasting up to 12 hours, from 8 a.m. to 8 p.m. or from 8 p.m. to 8 a.m., and she describes the hours as “extremely exhausting”, claiming that she used to spend the entire shift working on her feet.
As for salaries in government hospitals, they hover around EGP 6,000 to 6,900 and may reach EGP 7,200 in large hospitals, according to the experience of “Mai”, who currently works at a government hospital, and she adds that government work does not impose a shift system, which gives the pharmacist more room to use for freelance work or to continue studying.
She adds that working for companies may be more profitable for a pharmacist, but, as she describes it, it does not give them any practical experience, only marketing experience, noting that companies are in all cases a better option from the financial point of view only.
Mahmoud Ali graduated from the Faculty of Pharmacy in 2021, imagining that the long years of study would lead him to a job at a pharmacy or a pharmaceutical company, but after entering the labour market he discovered that the equation was different; the job for which he holds a pharmacy degree does not give him the income he expects, while the chemistry he studied was opening another, more flexible door for him.
“Ali” turned to private tutoring, as he explains to Zawia3, and his day is no longer tied to the number of prescriptions he dispenses or the hours he stands behind the pharmacy “counter”; instead, he now teaches the chemistry curriculum to secondary school students, drawing on his scientific background.
As for Rami Khaled, who graduated from the Faculty of Pharmacy in 2023, he went straight to an “English customer service” job, receiving over 8 hours a day complaints from foreign customers about satellite dish cable connections and disrupted satellite channel broadcasts.
“The degree is no longer the most valuable asset,” “Khaled” tells Zawia3, adding: “I work at Concentrix, and the salary of the English account there is higher than any salary my pharmacist colleagues receive.” For “Khaled”, moving from the profession to another job has become a purely economic decision.
“Yehia Amin”, a colleague of “Khaled”, also works in customer service for a bank. “Amin” tells Zawia3 that he did not fail in pharmacy, but economic calculations forced him to take this decision, though he practises the profession by working some hours at night in a pharmacy. He adds: the return from the job no longer matches the years of education.
Your Own Business Needs Money, and a Government That Does Not Raise Prices
The most prominent challenge facing pharmacists currently is the high cost of establishing a private pharmacy, as pharmacist Mohamed Adel says, explaining that a newly graduated pharmacist who does not have enough capital may find it very difficult to start his own project.
“Adel” estimates that establishing a modest pharmacy may require about EGP 500,000 at least, covering preparation of the premises, licences, furniture, shelves, lighting and other basic expenses, and that is before building up a large stock of medicines.
The high cost of establishing a pharmacy has led to arrangements in which some investors turn to a pharmacist to register the pharmacy in his name or register him as its manager, in return for a monthly fee, according to “Adel”, who explains that the value of the fee differs according to the area and the nature of the agreement, and in some cases may be around EGP 3,000 a month if the pharmacist’s role is limited to registering his name as manager without actually working inside the pharmacy.
Changing medicine prices are a major challenge for pharmacies, according to “Adel”, because the pharmacist may buy a medicine at a new price while still having stock on the shelf at the old price, which creates a loss, as he is forced to sell at the old price printed on the package and buy at the new, higher price.
Pharmacist Mohamed Sherif tells Zawia3 that successive medicine price increases impose a reality of “selling at two prices” for the same medicine inside the pharmacy, but by virtue of the legal obligation and the compulsory pricing printed on the package, the pharmacist is forced to sell the old stock at the price printed on it, which prevents him from collecting the actual replacement value of the medicine, and results in the erosion of the working capital and the cash liquidity needed to repurchase the same quantities at the new price.
On another front, according to “Sherif”, expired medicines drain cash liquidity, as distribution and production companies impose prohibitive conditions for taking back expired products or delay accepting returns through regular periodic mechanisms, despite the Egyptian Drug Authority adopting medicine return initiatives such as the “Wash Out” project; however, practical obstacles on the ground prevent recovering the value of these frozen medicines, which turns part of the capital into direct financial losses.
The economic crisis of pharmacists is also exacerbated by estimated tax assessment, according to “Sherif”, as the Tax Authority assesses the pharmacist on the basis of deducting operating expenses at a rate of only 7.5% of total sales, while the actual operating costs (electricity bills, water, labour wages, rents and government fees) exceed 20% of total sales, and this difference artificially inflates the tax base and burdens pharmacies with financial obligations beyond their capacity.
Ministerial Decree No. 499 of 2012 regulates the pharmacist’s profit margin, setting a discount of up to 25% on local medicines and 18% on imported medicines; however, production and distribution companies do not comply with its terms, and factories and companies are demanding that the decree be amended to reduce the profit margin to 23% for local and 15% for imported medicines; indeed, the companies have deducted 5% of the prescribed discount and counted it towards their own profits.
A pharmacist usually deals with two main sources for the supply of medicines: pharmaceutical companies and warehouses, according to “Adel”, who explains that the basic difference between them appears in discount rates and the availability of items, as the companies’ discounts in most cases hover around 25%, and may fall to 18% or 16%, while the rates are lower for certain items such as infant milk and insulin.
Some warehouses grant higher discounts depending on the item, as “Adel” says, reaching 30%, 32% or 35%, while for some items they can rise to 50%, 60% and even 70%, as he states from his experience.
“Adel” gives the example of an item priced at EGP 100, a type of sexual stimulant, noting that he obtains it from a warehouse for EGP 30, that is, at a 70% discount. The pharmacist explains that relying on companies alone makes the pharmacy’s profit margin limited, especially when the pharmacist is forced to offer discounts to customers to attract sales.
“If the pharmacist obtains a 25% discount from the company, then gives the customer a discount of 10%, he is left with a margin of only 15% before deducting rent, electricity, water, staff salaries, taxes and wastage,” as “Adel” says, adding that the matter does not stop at the profit margin, as the pharmacy also bears the cost of expired or damaged medicines.
“Adel” gives the example of a modest pharmacy achieving monthly sales of EGP 100,000, noting that if the profit margin is 25%, the gross profit reaches EGP 25,000, but this amount decreases as soon as workers’ wages, rent, utilities, cleaning, internet and other operating expenses are deducted.
According to the example “Adel” gives, workers’ wages reach about EGP 8,000 a month, with rent of around EGP 4,000 in a modest location, then the cost of commercial electricity at EGP 1,500, water at EGP 200, internet at EGP 700, a cleaning worker at EGP 3,000 and cleaning supplies at 500 and cleaning supplies are added, before reaching taxes and the remaining obligations, noting that what remains of the EGP 25,000 may barely exceed EGP 5,000, and that is without counting the pharmacy manager’s wage. “This calculation drives pharmacists to order medicines from warehouses,” as “Adel” says.
Amr El-Shamy, a young pharmacist, tells Zawia3 that in return for being registered, on paper, as the manager of a pharmacy in a modest location he receives about 3,000 a month, but at the same time he works by the hour at a well-known pharmacy chain, and his monthly wage does not exceed EGP 10,000.
“El-Shamy” says that the crisis of young pharmacists is growing with the decline in opportunities for government assignment, after graduates used to rely on it as an almost guaranteed path from study to work, providing them with a job and the benefits linked to it.
With the absence of the government assignment path, the pharmacist has come to face more difficult options, including working in a private pharmacy, opening his own pharmacy if he has the capital, or combining more than one job, as “Adel” says.
Work in private pharmacies relies on a system of pay in return for working hours, where the pharmacist can increase his income by increasing the number of hours or working more than one shift, as “Adel” says, noting that some pharmacists may be forced to move from lower-income areas to more upscale places in search of better opportunities and salaries.
Between Two Laws: Medicine Contains a Deadly Poison
The pharmacy profession is run by an old law, as “Sherif” says, adding: although some legal amendments and regulatory decisions have been introduced over successive decades, the current text struggles to keep pace with commercial transformations and the actual size of the medicine market in recent times.
Law No. 127 of 1955 is the basic legislation regulating the pharmacy profession and setting the rules of work within pharmaceutical establishments.
The issue of injections inside pharmacies also demonstrates the conflict between customary service practice on the ground and regulatory criminal texts, according to “Sherif”. For decades, citizens have been accustomed to obtaining intramuscular and subcutaneous injection services inside pharmacies as a quick community service that relieves pressure on emergency hospitals.
After several incidents, following cases of severe anaphylactic shock in some patients as a result of injecting drug compounds such as antibiotics that led to death, criminal cases were brought against pharmacists on charges of manslaughter and practising medicine without a licence, which led to the issuing of official decisions banning the administration of injections of all kinds inside pharmacies to avoid criminal liability.
Mostafa Magdy, a pharmacist, tells Zawia3 that the spread of mobile medicine delivery apps such as “Shefaa”, “Yadawy”, “Dawa Masr”, “Dawa Plus” and “Talabat” provide services connecting the patient with nearby pharmacies and allow uploading photos of prescriptions, dispensing medical insurance medicines and facilitating home delivery.
But these platforms impose discount rates and brokerage commissions on the pharmacies contracted with them, which takes part of the pharmacy’s profit margin for the benefit of the app, according to “Magdy”.
The Law on the Practice of the Pharmacy Profession, No. 127 of 1955, prohibits selling or brokering the sale of medicines outside licensed pharmaceutical establishments, and syndicate bodies consider that dealing with these apps is unregulated e-commerce that bypasses the direct responsibility of the managing pharmacist for dispensing and handling medicine.
Finally, how does a young man spend years of his life learning a profession and then discover that the best way to make a living may be not to practise it? The testimonies of pharmacists reveal that they are forced to search for sources of income sufficient for them, amid the high cost of establishing a pharmacy and the erosion of working capital as a result of changing medicine prices and problems with returns and expired medicines, alongside operating expenses and taxes.
Pharmacists do not have the luxury of establishing private pharmacies after losing the advantage of government assignment, so they did as “Mina” did, who was forced to work delivering orders after closing his private pharmacy (which he inherited from his father) because of its accumulated debts, while he turned to “delivery” to earn his daily bread.
