CAIRO — For years, TikTok offered young Egyptians a rare escape. They sang, joked and filmed their daily lives for millions of followers. Now, many of them are behind bars.
In recent weeks, authorities have arrested dozens of teenage influencers, accusing them of violating family values and laundering money. Prosecutors say at least 10 cases are under investigation, with travel bans, asset freezes and device seizures already in place.
Critics argue the arrests are about control, not crime. Social media has long stood as one of the few platforms outside Egypt’s tightly managed state media. “There is a law that criminalises indecent acts,” said lawyer Marawan al-Gindy. “But what we need is consistent rules, not arbitrary enforcement.”
One of the most prominent cases is that of 19-year-old Mariam Ayman, better known as Suzy El Ordonia. With 9.4 million followers, she became a household name after a playful exchange with her father went viral. She is now in jail, charged with distributing indecent content and laundering the equivalent of $300,000.
In a final video posted before her arrest, Suzy seemed to sense what was coming. “Egyptians don’t get arrested just because they appear on TikTok,” she said, admitting that some of her jokes might have offended but insisting they were never meant to corrupt.
Her popularity stemmed from simple clips: sharing meals, dancing in the street, or filming with her sister, who has a disability. Many fans saw her as a symbol of resilience. “If I had 10 million pounds, I would spend half to move my family to a better home,” she told a podcaster shortly before both she and the interviewer were arrested.
Rights groups say the prosecutions lean on vague language in a 2018 cybercrime law criminalising content that offends “family values.” The Egyptian Initiative for Personal Rights has tracked at least 151 such cases over the past five years. “Videos that would pass on television are now being used to charge young people,” said EIPR lawyer Lobna Darwish.
The campaign has spread beyond female influencers. People with minority religious views, LGBT Egyptians, and even those whose private videos leaked without consent have faced charges. The Interior Ministry, which has its own TikTok account, has urged users to report “immoral” content.
Some Egyptians have echoed the crackdown, even circulating baseless claims that influencers were tied to organ trafficking. Analysts warn this climate of suspicion risks eroding trust further.
TikTok itself says it removes millions of videos from Egypt each quarter under its community guidelines. But representatives declined to comment on the latest arrests.
To many, the crackdown reflects a struggle over who gets to define morality—and who gets to profit. Social media adviser Ramy Abdel Aziz noted that while earnings from TikTok are modest compared to the West, they remain life-changing in a country with high unemployment. “It can be a huge source of income,” he said, “but not if every post can be turned into a crime.”
Financial experts argue the government is targeting the wrong people. “If there’s a crime, you look at the money flows, not the performers,” said Tamer Abdul Aziz, an anti-money-laundering specialist.
For Suzy’s millions of followers, the videos that once brought laughter now feel like evidence in a trial. And for Egypt’s young creators, the message is clear: fame can come fast, but so can the fall.
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