The Price of Hope: Egg Freezing in Egypt

As her 44th birthday approached without marriage, Sama Zain El-Din felt a tightening anxiety she could no longer ignore. The window for motherhood, she believed, was narrowing. So she decided to freeze her eggs—an attempt to extend time, or at least her chances of becoming a mother.

Preserving possibility, however, quickly proved more complicated—and far more expensive—than she had imagined.

Sama, who works in digital marketing, began searching for a clinic she could afford. “The procedure is only available in private hospitals,” she told Al Manassa, “and the prices are astronomical; most of them in dollars.”

As her online searches multiplied, so did the advertisements. Repeated queries on social media and Google triggered a steady stream of fertility-center promotions. “I didn’t know whether they were licensed or not,” she said. “But when I started asking about prices, they were somewhat more reasonable.”

Her confusion reflects a broader shift. In recent years, egg freezing has become more common in Egypt. The process involves hormonal stimulation injections, typically administered in the abdomen, allowing women—married or unmarried—to preserve their eggs for future use. What was once discussed in hushed tones has increasingly been reframed by specialized centers as a marketable service.

Private hospitals advertise prices ranging from $5,000 to $7,000 per cycle. Lesser-known Facebook clinics list prices between 30,000 and 70,000 Egyptian pounds per cycle (roughly $590 to $1,370) widening the gap between glossy medical branding and uncertain oversight.

A business of accumulation

Against that backdrop, Sama chose a private center that charged 67,000 pounds (about $1,315) which she described as “a good price compared to hospitals asking for 235,000 pounds,” (around $4,600).

The payment structure, too, was carefully segmented. The center did not require the full amount upfront. Instead, costs were divided among hormone medications, priced at around 30,000 pounds ($590), which the clinic supplied directly because they are not widely available in pharmacies. Lab tests cost about 5,000 pounds ($98), in addition to hospital, physician, and procedural fees. Annual storage of frozen eggs costs 3,000 pounds.

The financial calculus was daunting but manageable. The medical outcome was not.

Sama underwent the procedure. It failed.

Doctors told her her egg count was low, meaning she would need to repeat the cycle at the same cost. She borrowed money to try again. The second attempt failed too.

Now she faces the prospect of a third round she cannot afford. “I don’t have the money to do it again,” she said. “I felt like my savings were thrown away.”

Her disappointment soon turned into suspicion. She struggles to accept the doctor’s explanation and believes the center deliberately relies on repeated cycles to maximize profit. “It’s a policy to collect money and exploit vulnerable cases,” she said.

A growing demographic reality

Sama’s story unfolds within a demographic landscape that is quietly shifting.

According to demographic researcher Akram Alfy, analysis of data from Egypt’s Central Agency for Public Mobilization and Statistics suggests that 22 million women in Egypt are over age 30. Of those, 15.3 million are over 40, and nearly 7 million are between 30 and 40.

As for unmarried women—categorized in official data under the term spinster—the most recent figures were published eight years ago, Alfy told Al Manassa, placing the rate at about 3.5%. That translates to a minimum of 770,000 unmarried women today. If the percentage had doubled under current pressures—a statistically unlikely scenario—the number would reach 1.5 million.

Yet the demand for egg freezing cannot be reduced to marital status alone.

Sara Khalil, 35, has been married for six years. Her marriage, she said, was a love story. But her husband has struggled with infertility since the beginning. “He’s been undergoing treatment since we got married,” she said.

Sara works as an accountant. She previously attempted in vitro fertilization (IVF), unsuccessfully. Each day, she sees dozens of advertisements for private fertility centers—the same algorithmic chorus that followed Sama. Unlike Sama, she has decided she will not risk an unknown clinic. “I know it’s a trap,” she told Al Manassa.

The alternative, however, is financially punishing. Private hospitals charge up to 250,000 pounds (nearly $5,000) pushing her to search for other options. She turned to public hospitals but found no such services available. “No one seemed to understand what I was asking,” she said. “Those who did treated it like a luxury worthy of ridicule.”

Quiet legalization, limited access

Part of the tension lies in the gap between religious acceptance and public policy.

In 2019, Egypt’s Dar Al-Ifta lifted religious objections to egg freezing, issuing a fatwa that permitted the procedure under strict conditions to ensure lineage clarity. But religious approval has not translated into broad legal access or public funding.

The Health Ministry is working to regulate assisted reproduction through a draft fertility law referred to the Justice Ministry in 2024. The bill focuses primarily on medical egg freezing—such as for cancer patients—while mechanisms to support elective or social freezing remain unclear.

To ensure oversight, the proposed legislation imposes strict licensing requirements. Fertility centers would need separate permits and would be subject to international and national health standards distinct from ordinary clinics. Posthumous fertilization and surrogacy would be prohibited to protect lineage and professional integrity.

Elsewhere, governments have taken more expansive approaches. France covers a substantial portion of egg-freezing costs through its public health system. Japan has announced subsidies to help women delay childbirth. South Korea offers grants of up to 2 million won ($1,500). Puglia in Italy launched a “social freezing” program to assist low-income and older women.

Egypt, like Jordan and Tunisia, remains in a phase where reproductive preservation is largely commodified, offered at prices beyond the reach of many.

Who can afford fertility?

Within Egypt’s private clinics, demand appears strong.

Dr. Amr Abbasi, a consultant in obstetrics, gynecology and IVF, describes interest in egg freezing as “intense,” particularly among women who have never married.

He said the ovarian reserve can be assessed through ultrasound and the Anti-Müllerian Hormone (AMH) test, before freezing. The test evaluates egg supply and helps determine expected outcomes—a reminder that biology, not only finances, shapes the odds.

Dr. Salma Ezz El-Din, another obstetrics specialist, agrees that demand is rising but says the procedure remains largely limited to affluent women. High prices may push others toward unlicensed centers. “We don’t know whether they are prepared for everything from anesthesia to proper egg storage,” she told Al Manassa. “The whole thing has become a business.” She urged the Health Ministry to include the procedure under national health insurance.

Government officials, however, signal caution.

Hossam Abdel Ghaffar, the Health Ministry’s spokesperson, told Al Manassa coverage is not currently under consideration. Egg freezing, he said, “requires a law to authorize and regulate it first.” At present, the ministry treats fertility centers like any other medical facility, taking legal action when violations are proven.

In December 2025, authorities shut down nine private women’s health and fertility centers in Cairo and Giza for failing to meet infection-control and health standards—an acknowledgment that regulation remains uneven.

For lawmakers, the issue ultimately returns to resources.

Irene Saeed, a member of parliament’s health committee, linked state support to budgetary constraints. “The health budget barely covers basic needs,” she said, noting that the issue has not been formally debated in parliament.

The government, she argued, lacks the financial capacity to fund the advanced technology and storage infrastructure required. “We are still debating shortages in intensive care beds and neonatal incubators,” she said.

Talking to Al Manassa, Saeed expressed hope that the state might support egg freezing if economic conditions improve. Until then, limited availability—and scarcity itself—keeps prices high.

For women like Sama and Sara, time continues to move forward. Their hope of one day hearing the word “Mama” now collides not only with biology, but with cost, regulation, and the marketplace logic of private fertility care.