In the middle of last May, Asmaa Mansour Siam, a Sudanese refugee living in 6th of October City, was found killed inside her apartment, and it later emerged that she had been raped before being killed in a manner described as extremely brutal. According to the testimony of one of her female relatives to Zawia3, who asked not to be named, Asmaa began the morning of the incident as usual, taking her daughter “Lareen” to nursery and then heading to a nearby shop to buy household items. After returning, she received a person who knocked on the door of her apartment; she initially thought he was one of her relatives, so she welcomed him and let him into the home.
Her relative explains that receiving relatives warmly is a familiar practice in Sudanese culture, particularly if the visitor is a member of the household or a close relative. She says: “As soon as she went into the kitchen to prepare something to offer him, while still wearing the abaya she had gone out in that morning, the visitor took her by surprise with an attempt at sexual harassment, then beat her, before raping her and killing her with extreme violence.” She affirms that the body was later found covered with the “musallaya” (the prayer rug) in the bedroom.
When Asmaa was late in collecting her daughter from the nursery, the supervisor there grew worried, which prompted her to call the child’s father. When he was told that his wife had not come, he asked the childminder to wait a little, and went himself to the nursery to collect his daughter. On arriving home, he sat down for a few moments and then heard the screams of his little daughter, who had gone into the apartment ahead of him, only to discover her mother drowning in her own blood and covered with the prayer rug.
The victim’s relative says that the police arrived after receiving the report, but they beat Asmaa’s husband and her brother, without offering any justification for doing so, as she put it. Although the suspect was arrested, she points out that the authorities have not announced any details about the investigation, nor disclosed the identity of the perpetrator. She adds: “All we saw was the moment the suspect, named (Y.M.), was brought to the crime scene to re-enact it, without our being allowed to enter the apartment or take some basic necessities for the child, even after the re-enactment procedures were over.”
Affirming her rejection of any accusation or rumour about the victim, her relative says: “Later, rumours spread via the ‘Anbaa October’ page containing statements attributed to the perpetrator, through which he tried to tarnish the victim’s reputation with claims that are inconsistent with her morals and conduct, known to everyone, of respect, politeness and high moral character. All of this is lies and slander.” She continues: “The child, who saw her mother as a blood-soaked corpse, is now going through an acute psychological crisis; she suffers from involuntary urination as a result of the shock, and lives in a state of constant terror, repeatedly saying that ‘the criminal will come to kill her as he did with her mother’.”
The child’s psychological crisis does not stop at general anxiety, but has developed into painful behaviours. She refuses to go to the bathroom at night however great her need, and prefers to urinate in her clothes rather than go alone. During the day, she does not enter the bathroom unless I am standing beside her, for fear that “the criminal” will suddenly appear, as she imagines, according to her description.
Refugee women in Egypt face sexual violence without protection
Sexual assault on refugee women in Egypt remains a worrying phenomenon, as dozens of women asylum seekers and refugees are subjected to repeated sexual and physical violations, documented by rights organisations, most prominently Human Rights Watch. In a report it issued, the organisation documented 11 incidents of sexual violence that took place between 2016 and 2022, targeting seven refugee women and asylum seekers from Sudan and Yemen, among them a girl aged 11. All six women, including a trans woman (transgender), reported that they had been raped by men, while four of them said they had been assaulted on more than one occasion. The girl’s mother reported that a man raped her daughter inside Egypt.
Many refugee women in Egypt, according to testimonies gathered by Zawia3, agree on the weakness of the legal response to these violations, and affirm that they are unable to take legal action against the perpetrators. The common reasons for this inability include the absence of residence permits, the fear of deportation or security harassment, as well as the refusal of some police stations to file official reports. Human Rights Watch confirmed these obstacles, as three refugee women said that the police refused to register their reports, while three others indicated that they had been intimidated to a degree that prevented them from reporting at all. One of the women said that a policeman sexually harassed her while she was trying to report a rape.
In the same context, the United Nations reported that 2023 saw a 50% increase in reports of conflict-related sexual violence compared with 2022, and that women and girls made up 95% of the verified cases. In Egypt, the Central Agency for Public Mobilisation and Statistics reported that about 8 million women and girls are subjected to violence every year, in the absence of clear legislation that criminalises domestic violence and guarantees the confidentiality of victims’ data.
A tragic reality
Zawia3 spoke with a number of refugee women who confirmed that they had been subjected to incidents of sexual assault in recent years, in the absence of legal justice. Maryam (a Syrian refugee, aged 32), who lives in the Ain Shams district of Cairo Governorate, says: “I was living with my husband and children in a small ground-floor apartment. The owner of the building is an elderly man, and he seemed respectable. One day, I went up to the roof of the building to hang out the washing, and was surprised to find him waiting for me on the stairs. He came close to me and tried to touch me inappropriately. I pushed him away and screamed, but he did not back off; instead, he said to me: ‘If you speak, you will be thrown out of the apartment and you will not find shelter.'”
She continues: “I went back to the apartment frightened, and did not tell my husband for fear that a problem would arise leading to our eviction, especially as the rent of the apartment is low and we have no other option. Since that incident, I no longer go out alone, and I always make sure to wear several layers of clothing even inside the building.” She affirms: “I did not report it to the police, because I know that as refugees we have no real protection, and I do not want to lose the only shelter where we take refuge. Since then I have lived in constant fear and continuous anxiety, and I feel that I lost part of my dignity at that moment.”
Things are not much different for Amna (a Sudanese refugee, aged 27), who lives in the Faisal area of Giza Governorate. She tells Zawia3: “I was walking along a side street to buy a few things when a young man on a motorcycle approached me, harassed me verbally and physically, and then fled. I tried to catch up with him, but to no avail, and I decided to go to the police station. When I recounted what had happened, the officer asked me: ‘Are there witnesses? Do you have the motorcycle’s number?’, and I answered no. He said to me: ‘Then we cannot do anything. The street is in front of you; change your route and pay attention to your clothes.'” She adds: “I felt humiliated twice, once by the attacker and once by the security man who was supposed to protect me. I left the station in tears, and decided not to go out alone again. I fled my country because of violence and destruction, and here I do not feel sufficiently protected, neither by the law nor by people. I have come to feel that being a refugee means that I have no voice and no rights.”
Recounting her experience to us, Naglaa (a Yemeni refugee, aged 24), who lives in the Haram area of Giza, says: “My neighbour told me about a job opportunity in a small office, so I went there hoping to be accepted. A man in his forties received me and asked for my papers. I told him that I am a refugee and that my residence papers are still being processed. He smiled and said in a strange tone: ‘So you are in great need of work, and ready to do anything?'” She adds: “I understood his intentions immediately, and left the place quickly, feeling disgust and fear. Days later, I saw him in the street, following me with insulting words. I thought about reporting it to the police, but my colleague told me: ‘There is no point; they will say that you do not have official residence, and they may treat you as a suspect, not as a victim.'”
As for Fatima (a refugee from South Sudan, aged 30), who lives in one of the districts of Giza (she declined to name where she lives), she tells us: “I was working as a waitress in a restaurant in a working-class area. The manager treated me with excessive kindness, and I put up with his comments for fear of losing my source of livelihood. One day, he asked me to clean his office after work had finished, and when I went in, he closed the door and tried to harass me. I screamed and pushed him away, and some colleagues heard my screams. They decided to support me, and I went with them to the police station, but the investigation turned into a humiliating interrogation, as the officer asked me: ‘What were you wearing? Why did you go to the office alone?'” She adds: “The questions made me feel guilty, as if I were the one at fault. Days later, the restaurant owner informed me that I had ’caused problems’, and I was dismissed. I tried to find other work, but they all know each other, and I became ‘the girl who complains’.”
What the law stipulates
Hala Doma, a lawyer and legal researcher and head of the “Horreya” Office for Law and Legal Consultancy, explains in an interview with Zawia3 that legal rights differ according to the nature of the assault, whether sexual or physical, and even within the category of “sexual assault” itself, as legal procedures differ depending on whether the act took place online or in person, since each incident is classified as a separate crime under Egyptian law and is subject to a different legal track.
Hala points out that some crimes cannot be investigated except on the basis of a complaint filed by the victim personally, which represents a major obstacle for refugees or residents without official papers, as they are unable to go to the Public Prosecution or police stations to file a report, which effectively deprives them of the right to litigation. She adds that some assaults, such as beating or assault in public places, can in theory be reported by a third party or by one of the witnesses, even if the victim is not present, but practical application is different, as many of the bodies that receive reports tend not to deal seriously with such complaints and insist that the victim attend in person.
She notes that the greatest danger faces victims who do not hold legal papers, as they become liable to detention or deportation as soon as they report the crime, which leaves them with two options, each worse than the other: either keeping silent about the crime, or risking reporting it and facing legal consequences that may be harsh. Doma affirms that the principle in Egyptian law requires the investigation of any crime committed inside the country, regardless of the legal status of the victim, whether a registered refugee or a person who has not completed residence procedures. However, actual practice indicates that the absence of a stable legal status often weakens victims’ chances of opening official investigations or accessing justice.
In this context, Lama Fakih, Middle East and North Africa director at Human Rights Watch, believes “that refugee women and girls in Egypt not only live in precarious conditions and face the risk of sexual violence, but it also appears that the authorities do not care about protecting them, investigating incidents or bringing rapists to justice. The authorities’ apparent lack of interest in these cases leaves refugee women with no recourse to justice”.
The report issued by the organisation indicates that sexual violence against women and girls in Egypt has been a pervasive problem in recent years, as the government has largely failed to develop and implement appropriate investigation policies and systems or to enact the legislation needed to address the problem. In 2017, a survey conducted by the Thomson Reuters Foundation found that Cairo, where more than a third of the refugees in Egypt live according to the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees, is the most dangerous city in the world for women.
Many refugee communities in Cairo and Giza are located in poor neighbourhoods and areas with high crime rates. This exacerbates the risks faced by refugee women and girls, whom attackers appear to target on the basis of their actual or perceived vulnerability linked to poverty and legal status, according to the same report.
Human Rights Watch believes that the Egyptian authorities must carry out their legal obligations under domestic law and international human rights law, and conduct a thorough investigation into all allegations of rape. This includes filling in the first information report, a written document prepared by the police on receiving initial information or an allegation that a crime has taken place, which is the first step towards ensuring access to justice.
Weak legal protection and residence problems
Halim Heneish, a consultant at the Refugees Platform, believes that the most prominent challenges facing refugees in Egypt relate to weak legal protection, particularly in light of the procedural complexities associated with obtaining a residence permit. He explains in his interview with Zawia3: “When you go to a police station to file a report, you are usually asked to present an identity card. For refugees, the residence permit is the only document that proves their legal status and contains their official details.”
He adds: “We have been facing a crisis for years over the difficulty of issuing or renewing residence permits. This situation directly restricts refugees’ ability to exercise their legal rights. If one of them is subjected to a violation and does not hold a valid residence permit, he cannot go to the police, which leaves him in a weak legal position.”
Heneish points out that “many security personnel do not recognise the documents of the UN High Commissioner for Refugees, whether the yellow card, the blue card or even the travel permit. An official residence permit is often required alongside the UNHCR card, which obstructs the refugee’s ability to file any report”.
He continues: “At the platform we have documented many cases of refugees holding documents issued by UNHCR being arrested; some of them even had valid official appointments with it, and despite that they were detained.”
In cases of assault or physical violations, legal procedures become more complicated. Heneish says: “Sometimes we are forced to send the lawyer himself to the police station, to try, through his legal capacity, to file the report on behalf of the victim, particularly in cases where the presence of the victim or a valid residence permit is not required. But even issuing an official power of attorney is often met with insurmountable obstacles, because the victim does not hold the required documents.”
Heneish affirms that this fear of going to the police is not limited to refugees, but also extends to Egyptian citizens; however, it is aggravated among refugees because of the fragility of their legal situation. He adds: “Some police stations refuse to file reports for refugees if they do not have a valid residence permit. This is illegal behaviour, but it is practised in reality.”
He goes on: “Therefore, it cannot be said that resorting to the legal track is always worthwhile. Rather, having a lawyer alongside the victim becomes necessary, because procedures such as issuing a power of attorney become futile in the absence of the required papers.”
He cites an incident that took place last May, when the family of a Sudanese refugee girl reported her disappearance, but the police station took no action and opened no investigation, until the girl was later found killed. He comments: “This painful incident shows that police stations are not a safe environment for refugees, and do not provide them with even the minimum of protection.”
Heneish concludes by stressing that this fragile legal reality makes the refugee community an easy target for violations. He says: “The surrounding environment realises that refugees do not have the tools of legal protection, which makes them vulnerable to fraud and assault, because the attackers know that the chances of their being prosecuted are almost non-existent.” He adds: “Every day we receive complaints from refugees who have been subjected to violations, especially in workplaces, but those who manage to reach us or a lawyer represent no more than 10% of the actual number of victims. The rest resort to silence or to accepting the status quo, because they know that there is no real protection available to them.”
As of the end of March 2025, the number of refugees and asylum seekers registered with the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees in Egypt stood at about 942,000 people, representing more than 60 different nationalities. Sudanese nationals top the list, followed by Syrian, Eritrean, Ethiopian, South Sudanese, Somali, Yemeni and Iraqi nationals. Most of these refugees live in urban areas such as Greater Cairo and Alexandria, where the majority depend on humanitarian assistance because of economic challenges and the difficulty of accessing the formal labour market.
The United Nations defines a refugee as a person who has been forced to leave their country because of circumstances such as war, violence or persecution, and who is unable or afraid to return. The 1951 UN Refugee Convention defines a refugee as “a person who is outside his country of origin or place of habitual residence owing to a well-founded fear of being persecuted for reasons of race, religion, nationality, membership of a particular social group or political opinion, and who is unable or unwilling to avail himself of the protection of that country or to return to it because of this fear”.
Finally, the rape and murder of Asmaa Mansour Siam embodies one tragic face of a broader picture of suffering lived by thousands of refugee women in Egypt, where asylum turns from a refuge into an arena of constant threat. In the absence of legal protection, the failings of some security agencies and the lack of redress mechanisms, a culture of impunity becomes entrenched, and women’s bodies become a stage for repeated violations that no one stops. Girls and women such as Maryam, Amna, Naglaa and Fatima do not only carry personal wounds; they cry out in the name of an entire system threatened with moral collapse, if complicity and silence continue.
Editorial correction: The first version of the report attributed to the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees the statement that 2023 saw a 50% increase in cases of conflict-related sexual violence compared with 2022. The correct position is that these figures appeared in the annual report of the UN Secretary-General on conflict-related sexual violence, issued in April 2024.
