Two worlds of banking lie here and there, between developing and advanced economies. The first struggles to move beyond its current stage, while the second reaps the fruits of its stability and retains its status. As for our so-called respectable banks, they remain lost without a clear direction. They are neither part of a struggling state’s developmental journey nor members of the global elite, being far from qualifying for the latter. Yet oddly, they act as though they belong among the giants.

In the UK, for instance, a low-income citizen can walk into any bank, big or small, and within minutes open an account with a zero balance, no questions asked. Stranger still, the bank issues an ATM card, allowing them to withdraw funds should fortune ever smile upon them. Even more remarkable is that the bank renews this card year after year and sends it to the customer’s address, despite the account remaining empty.

Have the British lost their minds? Of course not. They are simply safeguarding the potential for this account to become active someday, guided by their ingrained economic culture, which prioritises integrating all citizens into the banking system. This ensures the availability of comprehensive statistics and data to support sound economic decision-making when required.

In Italy, where the social and economic landscape bears some resemblance to Egypt’s—particularly in the prevalence of small businesses, crafts, and family-run enterprises—the banking sector has, for over two decades, encouraged individuals engaged in small and micro-economic activities to open accounts. This initiative, dubbed ‘personal companies’, targeted trades that required only one person to operate and was also offered free of charge. Have the Italians consumed so much pizza that their judgement has been impaired? Not at all. It is merely the inevitable shift away from the informal economy.

While no one denies the informal economy’s significant role in cushioning states during major economic crises, it simultaneously blinds decision-makers, leaving them adrift in a stormy sea, unable to discern the shoreline. Neither sinking nor reaching safety, they remain in limbo. The larger the informal economy, the less accurate economic indicators become, increasing the margin for error in decision-making—at times to the point of absurdity.

This invisible sector of Egypt’s economy accounts for approximately 52% of its entire economic activity. In other words, the accuracy or effectiveness of economic decisions is, at best, 48%, if one dares to quantify it this way.

Yet, amidst the chaos of our banks—perched on the ladder of development, somewhere between struggling below and steadfast above—one finds the absurdity of a boutique targeting only beautiful or wealthy women. If a modest individual, struck by an ambitious dream to open a small bank account, approaches in the hope of improving their prospects—or perhaps aiding the state in recognising them—they are swiftly swept away by a polite yet firm rejection.

The encounter might go something like this: a sharply dressed, well-groomed bank employee, with a charming smile, gently explains, ‘We are sorry, but we cannot open an account for you with less than 5,000 pounds. And if your balance drops below this threshold at any time, we will deduct a fine from your account as punishment for your transgression.’ The bewildered aspirant, fearing debt before they have even begun, retreats, cursing their foolish dream of self-improvement. This practice is not exclusive to any one bank but is a common feature of institutions afflicted with the ‘illness of modernisation’—a phenomenon frequently celebrated by officials in every media outlet by day. Meanwhile, the broomstick that sweeps away these dreamers may well be the only tangible result of Egypt’s banking sector reform and liberalisation.

This article is originally published by AlBorsa in Arabic and later AI-translated by South Push.