The tragic loss of two friends in the same week and the injury of a neighbour compelled me to reflect on a brutal, silent killer that confronts us each day: road accidents. This prompted me to write again about a problem that continues to strike a painful chord with many, including American University in Cairo graduate Karim Hamdy, who insists on holding reckless, exhausted, and drug-impaired truck drivers accountable.
Today’s piece addresses a similarly grave issue, beginning once more from a personal encounter. For those of my generation, few joys are as profound as reconnecting with a childhood friend. Such meetings collapse time, instantly transporting us back to an era when friendship was unfiltered and instinctive—defined not by adult anxieties, but by the sheer excitement of rushing to school to laugh and play with the one friend who helped us endure the burden of the school day and the severity of some teachers. These memories acquire even greater meaning when one sees that this childhood companion has gone on to achieve success—both professionally and socially.
I consider myself deeply fortunate that many of my childhood friends belong to this distinguished category. One such figure is my friend Dr. Gamal Abu El-Sorour, the former dean of Al-Azhar Medical School and a global pioneer in in vitro fertilization. He was elected president of the World Association of Obstetricians and Gynaecologists—an international recognition of his excellence.
What heartens me most is that a globally respected figure such as Dr. Abu El-Sorour has steadfastly declined foreign offers, choosing instead to remain in Egypt, committed to serving his country professionally and socially.
Last week, I had the privilege of meeting another childhood friend and exemplar of professional and social excellence: Dr. Sherif Mokhtar, the eminent cardiologist. His students and colleagues have honoured him by establishing a dedicated medical unit in his name at Qasr Al-Aini: the Sherif Mokhtar Critical Care Unit. In keeping with Dr. Mokhtar’s legacy of medical dedication and civic responsibility, this unit now spearheads a vital national initiative: a project to confront the threat of cardiac arrest—a project literally titled Save a Life. Its mission is to spare patients, their families, and their loved ones from the trauma of sudden death and to reintegrate survivors back into their normal lives.
As the project explains, cardiac arrest or sudden death is sorely under-documented in Egypt. Death certificates often resort to vague, formulaic phrases such as “sudden circulatory failure,” forcing experts to rely on foreign data, primarily from the U.S., which estimates a rate of 1 case per 1,000 individuals, and a stunning 1 per 50,000 among athletes.
I was particularly struck by this latter statistic. I had always assumed that athleticism protected against such risks. However, the deaths of two high-profile footballers in Egypt shatter this myth, revealing just how pervasive and misunderstood cardiac arrest remains. It is a far more widespread and devastating threat to public life than many of us realize.
The encouraging news is that the means of preventing this tragedy are far simpler than commonly believed. Immediate intervention by bystanders—without the need for medical personnel or equipment—can save between 50% and 80% of those who suffer a cardiac arrest before they reach the hospital. The Save a Life project outlines several strategies to combat this national threat, but three stand out as both critical and easily implementable, whether in responding to cardiac arrest or in preventive care:
First, resuscitation training must not be restricted to doctors or healthcare professionals. It should extend to family members, friends, students, company employees, and sports clubs. Collective training in schools and workplaces is essential to build a nationwide capacity to act in moments of crisis.
Second, public awareness campaigns must be intensified, especially for families with a history of cardiac illness. These individuals should undergo comprehensive screening using modern diagnostic tools, which are now widely accessible.
Third, more accurate data collection is essential for identifying vulnerable populations. A straightforward reform would be to replace vague terminology on death certificates with precise medical details, thereby producing more reliable national statistics.
There is no need to belabour the technicalities here. The Egyptian College of Critical Care Physicians has produced a clear and accessible document detailing the Save a Life initiative, requiring neither specialised training nor extensive time to understand. The critical question now is: What must we—as citizens, institutions, businesses, and policymakers—do to shield our families from this avoidable national tragedy?
Launched in 2014, the Save a Life campaign began as a national project aiming to screen 26,000 individuals across Egypt—from the Delta in the north to Upper Egypt in the south. So far, 13,000 individuals have been screened, thanks to funding from the National Bank of Egypt. The remaining half—another 13,000—requires a modest sum of 2.5 million Egyptian pounds to complete the project.
Astonishingly, this life-saving effort now faces the risk of collapse halfway through, all for lack of a relatively modest amount.
To put this in perspective: just two weeks ago, I came across an advertisement for a villa for sale in Egypt’s North Coast, near Marsa Matrouh and the Ras Al-Hekma project. Assuming there was no error, the asking price was 727 million Egyptian pounds—equivalent to nearly 290 times the amount needed to complete Save a Life. Shouldn't a national effort to save Egyptian lives be worth at least twice its cost, say 5 million pounds? That is, a mere 1/144th of the price of this villa.
Let us come together—citizens, institutions, business leaders, and the state—to support Save a Life and protect our families from sorrowful, unnecessary loss. For a price that is negligible compared to the cost of luxury, we can offer something infinitely more valuable: the preservation of human life.
*The writer is a professor of international relations and political economy at the American University in Cairo (AUC).
Short link: