When the jeep was stopped by two pickup trucks carrying armed men on a deserted road between Hurghada and Safaga, the guide, Ahmed, reportedly received 3,000 dollars in cash. He then turned the vehicle around and drove away, leaving two Polish tourists behind in the custody of the men who had intercepted them. Within 48 hours, both young women were reportedly transferred to separate Bedouin households for 4,000 dollars each and disappeared into the Eastern Desert of Egypt.
Kasia and Magda arrived at Hurghada International Airport on April 21, 2021. They had booked their trip through a Polish travel agency offering a one-week package that included hotel accommodation, transfers, and diving in the Red Sea. Both women were experienced divers and had been traveling together regularly since 2017.
Kasia worked as a graphic designer in Warsaw. Magda was 24 years old and in her final year of university, where she was studying international relations. They flew directly from Warsaw, with a travel time of about four hours. In April 2021, Egypt was only beginning to rebuild its tourism sector after the pandemic.
Although restrictions were gradually being lifted, visitor numbers were still far below pre-pandemic levels. Hurghada, the largest resort city on the Red Sea coast, relies heavily on tourism. The local economy had suffered badly during the previous year, and many hotels were operating with minimal occupancy.
Guides and excursion companies were competing for every customer. Prices for services had dropped, attracting budget travelers from Eastern Europe. The two friends stayed in a three-star hotel in Hurghada’s tourist district. During their first five days, they relaxed on the beach and completed three dives with an instructor at a reef near the shore. The weather was ideal.
The air temperature hovered around 32 degrees Celsius, and the sea had warmed to about 24 degrees. Underwater visibility was excellent. They saw turtles, stingrays, and schools of tropical fish. At the hotel, they met other tourists, mostly from Poland, the Czech Republic, and Ukraine. The atmosphere felt calm and carefree, with no obvious reason for concern.
On April 26, the sixth day of their stay, a local guide named Ahmed approached them.
He offered them an excursion to a Bedouin village in the desert. Such trips are very popular in Hurghada, and nearly every tourist agency advertises them. The usual program includes a jeep ride into the desert, a stop at a traditional Bedouin settlement, tea, camel rides, sunset viewing, and dinner with local dishes.
Tourists normally return to their hotels late in the evening.
Ahmed offered the tour for 50 dollars per person, around 30 percent cheaper than the rates quoted by official hotel excursion desks. Kasia and Magda saw no obvious reason to turn him down. They had read online reviews of similar trips, and many travelers recommended them as a chance to see the “real desert” and learn something about local culture.
Ahmed showed them photographs from earlier tours: smiling visitors sitting in a Bedouin camp, drinking tea, and posing beside camels. He had a business card bearing the name of a tourist company and a phone number. Everything appeared legitimate.
The women agreed and paid in advance.
Ahmed told them he would collect them the next day, April 27, at 3:00 p.m.
He arrived on time in a white Toyota jeep. Another man was in the vehicle, introduced as a colleague and driver. The women sat in the back seat. There were no other tourists in the jeep, even though these excursions are usually arranged in groups of six to eight people.
When Kasia asked about this, Ahmed explained, “Because it’s low season, not many people signed up today, so it’s just the two of you.”
That answer did not immediately alarm them, although investigators would later identify this moment as the first serious warning sign.
The jeep left Hurghada and headed south along the coastal road before turning west toward the desert.
For the first 30 kilometers, the road was paved, but after that it became a rough dirt track. The landscape changed quickly from coastal greenery to rocky hills and open sand plains. They drove for around two hours. The women took photographs through the windows and sent messages to their parents while they still had mobile reception.
About 45 minutes after leaving the city, the signal disappeared completely.
At around 5:00 p.m., the jeep reached a small settlement with ten to fifteen adobe houses and several tents. It looked like the sort of Bedouin village often shown to tourists. A few men in traditional clothing sat beside a fire, and camels stood nearby. Ahmed invited the women to get out and told them, “Now the program begins.”
They stepped out and looked around.
The place appeared authentic, though clearly poor. There were no other tourists in sight, which felt unusual, but Ahmed explained, “The previous group has already left, and the next one will arrive later.”
They were offered tea and invited to sit on carpets near the fire.
One of the Bedouin men spoke to them in broken English about life in the desert. Everything still resembled a standard excursion program. The two women relaxed, took pictures, and drank tea. As the sun started to sink lower, Ahmed said, “Soon we’ll watch the sunset, have dinner, and then return.”
It was around 6:00 p.m.
What happened next unfolded very quickly.
Two pickup trucks arrived at the settlement. Four men stepped out, and two of them were carrying Kalashnikov-style rifles. At that moment, the situation no longer resembled a tourist outing. Kasia and Magda stood up immediately, sensing that something was wrong.
Ahmed exchanged a few words in Arabic with the armed men. The conversation was brief.
Then one of the men took out a bundle of dollars and handed it to Ahmed.
He counted the money, nodded, climbed back into his jeep, and drove away with the second driver without looking back.
The entire exchange lasted less than five minutes.
In that moment, the women understood they had been deliberately handed over.
They tried to run, but were quickly restrained. Magda shouted and attempted to break free, but was struck and overpowered. Kasia’s arms were held tightly. Both women were tied with ropes, gagged with cloth, and pushed into the back of one of the pickup trucks.
All of it happened in the fading light of sunset, in front of others at the settlement who did nothing to intervene.
The operation looked practiced and disturbingly routine.
Investigators would later conclude that incidents of this kind had occurred in the region before, especially between 2009 and 2015. While the number of cases had reportedly decreased, they had not disappeared completely.
The pickups then separated.
Kasia was taken north.
Magda was taken northwest.
The ride was rough, and the women were thrown against the metal sides of the truck as it moved over uneven ground. Kasia managed to loosen the ropes around her hands slightly, but she made no attempt to flee. In the darkness of the desert, with no landmarks and no water, escape would likely have been impossible.
After around two hours, the vehicle stopped at a small settlement with several houses and livestock pens.
Kasia was pulled out, her legs untied, and led into one of the houses.
It was a simple structure: two rooms, adobe walls, an earthen floor, and almost no furniture. A kerosene lamp burned in one corner. She was placed on the floor in the back room, and the door was locked behind her. Outside, she could hear men and women speaking Arabic.
After some time, the door opened.
A woman in black clothing, around forty years old, entered the room. She untied Kasia’s hands and gave her water and bread. In broken English, she told her, “You must work and obey now. Otherwise, things will become harder.”
She also made it clear that escape was unrealistic.
“There is only desert around,” she said. “You cannot reach the city. It is too far, and there is no water.”
That first night, Kasia did not sleep.
She tried to understand what had happened and how she could possibly contact the outside world. Her phone had been taken while she was still in the pickup truck. The room had no window, and the door was locked from the outside. She listened to voices through the wall until, little by little, the sounds faded and the household went quiet.
Kasia cried silently.
She thought about Magda and whether her friend was still alive. She thought about her parents in Warsaw, who had no idea what had happened and were still waiting for a message. The last thing she had written to her mother, at around 4:00 p.m., was simple:
“We’re going on an excursion and will write in the evening.”
By morning, her situation had become clearer.
The woman who had brought her food was named Amina, the wife of the family’s head, Hamdi. The household consisted of Hamdi, Amina, their three children, and Hamdi’s seventy-year-old mother. They lived in primitive conditions, raising livestock and keeping goats and camels. The nearest settlement was 20 kilometers away. There was no electricity. Water came from a well. Food was cooked over an open fire.
Kasia’s role was explained to her directly.
She was expected to help with domestic tasks: carrying water, cooking, cleaning, washing clothes, caring for the animals, and assisting around the house from dawn until dark. She was given very little to eat—mostly flatbread and water, sometimes goat milk or dates. At night she was locked in the same room. During the day, she was watched by Amina or the older woman in the household. Hamdi and his teenage son both carried old rifles.
It was clear that any attempt to flee would be met harshly.
During the first few days, Kasia remained in a state of shock. She could not believe this was happening in 2021. She tried to tell Amina that her family would pay money for her release, but Amina answered calmly:
“We have already paid money for you. Now you belong here.”
Kasia had reportedly been bought for 4,000 dollars—a huge sum for the family, equal to several years of income.
Amina did not appear to see anything unusual in the arrangement. To her, it was simply a transaction.
Meanwhile, back in Hurghada, the alarm was rising.
When the women had not returned by the morning of April 28, hotel staff first assumed that they had been delayed or had spent the night elsewhere. But by the afternoon, when there was still no contact, the hotel called the police. In Poland, the mothers contacted each other and then called the hotel.
By the evening of April 28, it was clear the two women had vanished.
Egyptian police registered the case as a missing persons report. At first, it was treated as a standard disappearance—something that happens dozens of times each year in Egypt. But hotel employees soon told officers about Ahmed and the desert excursion. They handed over his business card and phone number.
Police tried calling the number.
No one answered.
They checked the company named on the card and discovered that it did not exist.
The business card was fake.
That was the first strong indication that the case involved an organized criminal setup rather than an ordinary disappearance. The matter was then transferred to a specialist anti-abduction unit.
Investigators searched for Ahmed using descriptions gathered from tourists and hotel staff. Many men fit the general description, but no officially registered guide under that name appeared in the database.
Security cameras from the hotel showed the women entering a white Toyota jeep. The license plate was unclear, but image specialists enhanced the footage. Police eventually identified the registered owner—a local man who said he had sold the vehicle two months earlier to an unknown buyer for cash, without completing any official paperwork.
The trail went cold.
The Polish Consulate in Cairo became involved and contacted the Egyptian Ministry of Interior. News of the disappearance reached Polish media outlets. The families gave interviews and publicly appealed for help. The Polish Ministry of Foreign Affairs sent a formal request to Egyptian authorities, turning the disappearance into a diplomatic issue.
Egyptian authorities launched a search across the desert area between Hurghada and Safaga—a vast region containing dozens of scattered Bedouin settlements.
Police questioned local residents, but Bedouin communities are traditionally closed to outsiders and often distrust government authorities. Most gave the same answer:
“We know nothing about missing tourists. We have seen no foreign women.”