Anti-tobacco campaign met with
defiance in smoke-happy Cairo
by Stephanie Rice, August 2008
CAIRO
— Like many Egyptians, Amr Khalafallah
is rarely without a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. "I smoke three packs a day," Khalafallah
said while puffing on a Marlboro cigarette on the patio of a popular downtown
cafe. "I know it's a bad habit, but I don't care."
In
Egypt, smoking is more than a habit – it's a national pastime. Taxi
drivers light up as they swerve through traffic-choked streets and veiled women
sit in trendy coffee houses, a cell phone in one hand and a cigarette in the
other. In the evenings, it's impossible to escape the smell of flavored tobacco
wafting from the crowded cafes where men and women drink sugary tea and smoke
tobacco in water pipes.
According
to the World Health Organization, Egypt has the highest cigarette consumption
in the Middle East, with more than a quarter of the country's 80 million
inhabitants smoking. An estimated 60 percent of men and 3 percent of women use
tobacco in some form, although the number of female smokers is thought to be
underreported because of cultural taboos that make women less likely to admit
they smoke. In comparison, about 28 percent of
American men and 19 percent of American women use tobacco.
While
the smoking rate in the United States has decreased steadily since the 1980s, a
2003 analysis by the World Health Organization found that in Egypt, the number
of smokers is increasing at a rate of 8 percent each year.
Lung
cancer and heart disease are among the leading causes of death here. According
to the same organization, Egypt spends an estimated $545.5 million treating
tobacco-related diseases each year.
The
government is attempting to reverse that trend with a new nationwide
anti-smoking campaign. Since Aug. 1, the Ministry of Health and Population has
required cigarette labels to display photos that warn consumers about various
health risks. The images are dramatic – one depicts a man lying in a
hospital bed with an oxygen mask, while another shows a limp cigarette to
symbolize impotence.
"Most
people know smoking is harmful but they don't imagine that they may be the one
who will catch a disease," said Mohamed Mehrez Mostafa, director of the ministry's Tobacco Control
Department. "We hope this will make them think twice."
But
in a country where it's rare to find a restaurant with a non-smoking section, Mostafa knows persuading people to give up tobacco is an
uphill battle. The new packages have been met with hostility
by many smokers who admit they have been unnerved by the provocative images.
Most, however, say they have no intention of quitting.
"The
picture bothers me, I don't like it," said Hossan
Ajlan as he enjoyed a cigarette at a busy coffee
house on a downtown alley. "So I rip up the packages as soon as I buy them
and use this instead." He picked up a shiny metal tin from his table and
flipped it open, revealing a well-stocked supply of cigarettes. "I
actually like this better anyway."
Ahmed
Abdul Haggag, who sells cigarettes, soda and candy
from a small kiosk nearby, said his customers have had similarly creative
responses to the new packaging. "Some of them save the old boxes and
transfer the new cigarettes into them," he said. "Others are willing
to pay a little extra for the old ones without the picture."
A
package of the local Cleopatra cigarettes usually runs about 50 cents. When the
new labels came out, Haggag and other venders
promptly raised the price of the original packs, distributed before the
campaign went into effect. Most customers seem happy
to pay an extra 5 or 10 cents to savor their nicotine guilt-free.
"I
can't enjoy the ones with the picture," said Ayman
Abdul Salam, relaxing on a smoke break from
his job as a salesperson at a men's shoe store. "I feel like they taste
different."
"My
cigarettes are 3 pounds (50 cents) but I would pay 10 pounds ($1.80) for a
package without the picture," he added, a good-natured grin revealing a
mouthful of nicotine-stained teeth. "I don't care how much it costs."
Salam
scoffed at the idea that anyone would actually be motivated to kick the habit.
"Everyone is like me," he said. "We're all upset about the
picture, but no one is actually going to quit."
But
Salam's younger friend and coworker, Mohamed Samir,
disagreed. "I see that guy on the box, and I imagine it's me," said Samir, who smokes two packs a day. "It's very bad, and
I'm thinking of quitting."
At
a cigarette stand down the street, Sayid Yakoub, a 36-year-old wearing a traditional white galabiyya, grimaced at the sight of the sickly
oxygen-mask-wearing man staring back at him. "Do you have any
others?" he asked.
The vender, Mostafa Abdel Hamid, rummaged around behind the stand and handed over a
plain red-and-white box of Marlboros. Yakoub happily
paid 5 cents extra. "The picture just makes me feel uneasy," he
explained. "With these," he held up the coveted photo-free box
– "I can sleep easier at night."
While
it seems unlikely that diehard smokers like Yakoub
will be giving up tobacco anytime soon, proponents of the new campaign point
out that at the very least, the graphic warnings are initiating a discussion
where anti-smoking campaigns have been nonexistent.
Mostafa, the tobacco control director, said his department, which
currently consists of three people including himself, plans to distribute
pamphlets warning about the dangers of water pipes and secondhand smoke in
coming weeks.
"It's
about raising awareness, getting people to think," he said.