The plant is located in Giza, west of Cairo, where by late afternoon the desert haze tends to soften the outline of the assembly buildings. It has been there for years, producing a small number of cars—mostly Sunnys—mostly for consumers in Egypt or just over the Libyan border. 30,000 cars a year is insignificant by the global automotive industry’s standards. By the standards of Egypt’s automotive aspirations, this is the type of business that governments covertly defend. Nissan has now made the decision to increase its size by $45 million.
It’s not a huge figure. $45 million is a rounding error in a sector where a single new model program can consume a billion dollars before the first car leaves a factory. However, everything that is going on around the move is what makes it interesting. With seven plants closed globally, 20,000 jobs eliminated, and a projected net loss of about $4.2 billion for the fiscal year ending in March 2026, Nissan is currently undergoing one of the most aggressive corporate retrenchments of any major automaker in decades. In light of this, any expansion is a statement.
In this instance, the claim is that Egypt has gained something that South Africa has lost.
The Rosslyn plant near Pretoria, where Nissan produced automobiles for almost 65 years, became ingrained in South African industry, much like some steel mills did in the Midwest of the United States. There, the NP200 bakkie was put together. The gates were used by generations of laborers. The company announced in January that it had sold the plant to the Chinese automaker Chery; the deal is anticipated to close in the middle of 2026. The new owner is reportedly going to retain about 700 of the 800 employees, which is the kind of detail that softens but doesn’t alter the narrative. The auto industry in South Africa, which still contributes about 5.3% of the country’s GDP and employs roughly 115,000 people in its manufacturing sector, recently suffered a setback.
Nissan’s explanations were not shocking. Egypt has cheaper prices. The logistics are easier. A car manufactured in Giza can conceivably reach consumers in Europe, the Middle East, and the rest of Africa without the need for a second production facility, which is another benefit of geography. More than half of the components in the expanded line will be sourced locally, according to Mohamed AbdelSamad, who oversees Nissan’s operations in Africa. This sounds like supply-chain hedging, and it is. With the aid of an estimated $57 billion in financial assistance from the IMF, World Bank, EU, and Gulf partners, Egypt has been recovering from a severe foreign exchange crisis. When cars are built using Egyptian components, less money is spent.
As this develops, it seems as though Nissan was reluctant to leave South Africa. Jordi Vila, the head of Nissan Africa, expressed regret in his interviews; this is the kind of language used by executives when making financial rather than emotional decisions. However, the math was no longer accurate. The Mansour Group is constructing a $150 million facility, Volkswagen committed $240 million late last year, and Chinese companies like Geely and Jetour have also moved in. Egypt’s government has been actively courting automakers. Nissan reportedly made the decision to participate in the small gold rush taking place along the Nile delta rather than observe it from the south.
It’s more difficult to predict whether the wager will be profitable. The rules of the game will change once more when the African Continental Free Trade Area fully activates its automotive provisions. But for the time being, the Giza plant is set to start exporting more cars, hire more workers, and add a production line. It’s a minor action that reveals more about the industry’s perception of the continent’s future. And where it isn’t.