It’s the 3D-printed figurine of Sherif Bishara perched on the corner of his desk that catches the eye upon entering his office for the first time. The Group CEO of Mohamed & Obaid Almulla Group and American Hospital Dubai, clocks the reaction to his mini-me statue, and explains that he got one made for everyone on his staff as a little gesture of recognition for all the hard work they’d been putting in.
“I like to present personalised gifts, not just distribute something generic. So, every day, I’m thinking about different things I can give my staff that will make them smile or help them,” he says, a warm smile beginning to form on his own face.
For Sherif, it’s all about showing the people he works with that he sees them – or, more specifically, that he respects them. “If I respect you, I respect you. If I don’t…you just do your job rather than strive to do your best,” he asserts.
It’s an answer that succinctly sums up Sherif’s style – a blend of candour, clarity, and conviction that underlines his confidence as a leader, combined with an impressive internal ease that enables him to harness even the direst of circumstances.
This combination has proven to be wildly effective throughout his illustrious career and, specifically, in his current role as Group CEO of Mohamed & Obaid Almulla Group and the man behind the remarkable transformation of American Hospital Dubai.
Sherif is not your typical healthcare executive. Then again, he’s not your typical anything. A lawyer and aviation executive, he entered the healthcare sector in 2018, just before the world was about to be turned upside down by Covid.
“I don’t like to do things I know how to do,” he says matter-of-factly. “I always like to challenge myself, and when you go into a business you are not familiar with, you can help by bringing an outsider’s perspective, which can be so important.”
It is this appetite for reinvention that has fuelled Sherif’s entire career arc – from being the youngest licensed lawyer in Egypt at the tender age of 20, to working as a senior legal advisor at Barclays Bank, and then serving as Air Arabia’s Group Head of Legal without any prior aviation experience…to now leading one of the most ambitious healthcare expansions in the Middle East.
His impressive career got its start thanks to a childhood spent visiting his grandfather’s brother, a prominent Egyptian politician and lawyer. The cherished time they shared planted the seed for Sherif’s career ambitions.
“From day one, my plan and my dream was to be a lawyer, because I adored him,” he recalls. That early reverence became legacy. “After he passed, his wife gave me his library – because he had told her, ‘If Sherif goes to law school and graduates, give it to him.’”
Fast-forward to 2018. Sherif took on the role of Chief Legal Officer at Mohamed & Obaid Almulla Group. Six months in, he challenged the group’s structure. “I told the chairman, ‘This company might collapse in a few years.’ Every part of the family was controlling their own sector, with their own board. There was no governance.” His solution? In what has proven to be a recurring trait in his career journey, he was bold.
“I said, ‘Family members should step out from any executive position. [They can be] only non-executive board directors. Anyone holding the Almulla name cannot hold an executive position,’” Sherif recounts.
Afterwards, the newly appointed group CEO backed out days before the annual general meeting. It was then that Sherif was asked to step in as acting CEO. He never left. “I approached the job not as if I was just a seat filler until they found someone – I took it on as the CEO, and didn’t look back,” he says.
Then Covid hit. And that’s where Sherif’s crisis instincts, grounded in his confidence and inner ease, crystallised. “They called me into the disaster committee,” he recalls. “All of them were doctors. I wasn’t. So I said, ‘I’ll close my hotels and convert one into an institutional isolation facility.’”
He didn’t wait for approval. “Within 18 hours, I converted the Holiday Inn Express near the airport into a hospital. Within 24 hours, there was a queue at the entrance waiting for admission,” Sherif recounts.
That moment put him “on the map”. And while his background isn’t medical, he sees it as an advantage. “I look at things from a fresh-eyed perspective,” he explains. “I’m recruiting personalities – people with passion for change, flexibility, dynamics. Not titles.”
This is a theme Sherif returns to often. “My Chief Operating Officer spent 17 years as an HR in healthcare. My CMO? Never worked as a CMO. But they have the passion. I can train skills. I can’t train passion,” he asserts.
He also doesn’t mince words about what a successful corporate culture needs. “Healthy culture doesn’t mean pleasing everyone. It means rewarding based on performance, and making a point to always punish before giving,” he says. And why is it important to discipline before doling out recognition?
“Because when high performers see no consequences for underperformance, they lose trust,” Sherif says, a quick nod punctuating the statement.
That no-nonsense clarity extends to his long-term vision – to position Dubai as the global leader in healthcare, not just in quality, but in innovation, standards, and systems. “I studied the healthcare systems of the U.S., U.K., and Singapore,” he shares.
“The U.S.? Advanced but unfair and expensive. People die because they can’t afford treatment. The U.K.? Fair, but with long waiting times and poor quality. Singapore? It sits somewhere in between.” Dubai, Sherif believes, can do better. Much better.
“We should build our own healthcare system, branded by Dubai. One unified system, one identity, like the NHS. Then export it. Go abroad and help fix systems in other countries using Dubai’s model. In 10 years, Dubai can lead the world in healthcare,” he says with such confidence that it’s hard to imagine his plan not becoming a reality.
And once again, Sherif isn’t waiting for someone else to lead the way. “No one asked me for this,” he admits. “But I studied it. I wrote a paper. I’ll send it to the Executive Council.”
That proactive energy – the drive to shape the future without being asked – runs deep in Sherif’s worldview. “You should understand your destination before you drive. Planning is like a GPS. You choose your route – shorter with a toll, or longer for free – but you can’t move without a destination,” he says.
Even AI doesn’t escape his analytical lens. “Everyone talks about AI and machine learning, but no one truly understands it,” he posits. “Healthcare is 10 years behind hospitality and aviation. Why? Because physicians weren’t part of the development process.” His philosophy on the topic is nuanced. “AI will never replace the human brain. And the human brain won’t replace AI,” he notes. “But AI will replace the human who doesn’t know how to work with AI.”
To prepare, he partnered with MIT to train 250 American Hospital staff in AI and healthcare. “I don’t expect 250 experts. I just want to build a culture of acceptance – so that they don’t feel threatened,” he explains.
And yes, he’s still listening. He likes to go to lunch with one particular elderly staff member at the hospital who is close to retiring, because Sherif knows that, with nothing left to lose, he will give the CEO his honest opinion about what is working and what isn’t at his company.
But its not the only way he hunts out feedback. “I provoke people on LinkedIn. I post, ‘What would make American Hospital the best place to work?’ And I tell people – even those I’ve let go – to comment publicly or message me. I want to hear it,” he says.
As someone who moves fast and takes major decisions quickly, does the fear of making a mistake ever slow him down? Well, that depends on the kind of mistake.
“I don’t care about mistakes,” he says. “Anything that can be sorted by money, I have no problem with it. Human error happens. However, when it comes to any that might affect the reputation or the culture or the ethics of our company, that’s a red line. There is a huge difference between human error and negligence.”
Despite his exacting standards, Sherif remains deeply human. He’s a father of six (with one more on the way) and has orchestrated a family setup that’s as intentional as his corporate one. “All the kids are always together. My ex-wife’s house is next to mine. Walking distance. We’re very close,” he confesses.
Sherif is driven by legacy, but not ego. “I don’t want to live vicariously through my kids,” he says. “And I don’t want to wake up one day and realise I’ve achieved all my dreams. That would be a nightmare. I always want to have a dream left to chase.”
So what keeps him up at night? Simple. “If I stop dreaming. That’s my biggest fear.”
