There was a time when public space in Cairo meant more than just physical access. It meant watching kids fly kites on the corniche, sharing tea in a quiet garden in Zamalek, or catching a breeze on a bench at the International Park in Nasr City.
Today, those same benches are often fenced off, paved over, or priced out. In a city of 23 million, where can the public still be public?
From the once-lively Nile Corniche now broken up by cafés with cover charges, to gated promenades and walkways lined with security guards, Cairo’s public spaces are no longer for the public at large.
While parks, streets, and gardens still exist, they are limited in number, and those that remain have lost much of their soul as places of belonging, equality, and shared visibility. What is being lost is not just physical access to space, but the right to participate in the city’s life, regardless of income, background, or class.
Cairo’s Divided Urban Landscape
Across Cairo, entire neighborhoods operate as self-contained urban bubbles, shaped by who controls them, and who is excluded from them. Urban theorists refer to these pockets as heterotopias: spaces where people live, work, and socialize under distinct social, economic, and political conditions.
Cairo today is increasingly a city of divided urban pockets, each shaped by different political and economic logics. Downtown, with its state-built infrastructure and wide boulevards, still reflects remnants of mid-20th-century state planning.
In contrast, areas positioned at the far eastern and western edges of Cairo reflect a more recent shift toward elite privatization and profit-driven development, creating urban enclaves that often feel disconnected from the rest of the city.
But here lies the paradox: both public and private models fall short of serving the wider public.
A 2022 study by architect Ahmed Sayed Abdel-Rasoul Ali, published by Benha University, compared state-managed public spaces with privately governed ones.
It found that while public sector projects often aim to promote accessibility and social diversity, they tend to struggle with limited funding and declining upkeep. Private spaces, on the other hand, emphasize safety, order, and aesthetic appeal, but are typically designed with a narrow demographic in mind.
In both cases, public space increasingly mirrors the socio-economic group it is meant to attract, rather than offering equal access and inclusion across backgrounds.
A Park Once for Everyone
Take the International Park in Nasr City, once a proud display of multiculturalism with pavilions funded by embassies from around the world. In its early days, it was used by school trips, joggers, families across classes, and the district’s middle-to-upper-income residents. Today? It tells a very different story.
Following a shift in policy that requires each park to fund its own upkeep, the International Park has leaned heavily into mass events, introduced photography fees, and struggled with maintenance. Once popular with schools and residents alike, it is now a shell of its former self, drawing primarily visitors from less affluent backgrounds.
What this shows is that “public” no longer means shared. It often means neglected, until it is ripe for private reinvention.
The Cost of Public Space
On the other end of the city, spaces like Mamsha Ahl Misr offer a polished, controlled version of urban life. Launched in 2019 by the Ministry of Housing, the 54-kilometer walkway includes shops, cafés, booths, and public event spaces.
While the entrance fee is relatively low at EGP 20 (USD 0.40), access to this public space still comes at a cost. Visitors are funneled toward commercial activity, making the experience feel more like a curated shopping promenade than an open, accessible public environment.
Even green spaces have become curated experiences. Various parks in Egypt now charge entrance fees, which can pose a barrier for residents seeking accessible green spaces.
For example, the dog park in Heliopolis charges EGP 20 (USD 0.41) per person, while Child Park has an entry fee of EGP 20 (USD 0.41). These costs can discourage regular visits, especially for families or individuals on tight budgets who may prioritize other expenses.
Why Public Space Matters for Mental Health
The loss of accessible public space does not merely change the city’s landscape, it also affects the well-being of its people. According to a 2019 study published in the International Journal of Development and Sustainability, access to green and open spaces is closely linked to improved mental health, reduced stress, and stronger community bonds. In a bustling, crowded city like Cairo, a simple public bench under a tree is not a luxury, it is a vital psychological necessity.
Without space to rest, walk, gather, or simply be, the city feels overwhelming. Those with the fewest resources, the ones who most need affordable respite, are often the first to be excluded.
As Cairo’s public spaces become more commercialized and access comes with a price, the role of public spaces is changing. But if these places no longer belong to everyone, what kind of city is being created, and who is left out?
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