Repost from The Copenhagen Post
Many international medical professionals, as well as highly skilled professionals from other industries, moved to Denmark expecting to find jobs that suited them. Many ended up in the lowest-paying industry in the country.
Teresa Bigioli
Mar 31, 2026
Until October 7, 2025, Denmark had opened its border to over 1,750 non-EU or EEA medical professionals, like Amir, Mahsa and Sara, recruited to fill the over 5,000 vacant positions across hospitals nationwide.
But with local professionals returning to the workforce, strict policies in place, and half a year of residence permit left, the three are now left in a limbo of uncertainty, with scrubs swapped for aprons, and restaurant tables turned into their new operating rooms.
This is their reality in Denmark.
Leaving Iran
Amir is a 33-year-old man from Kermanshah, in the Kurdish region of western Iran. His journey to Denmark began after twelve years of dedicated work in healthcare: “I studied nursing for four years to earn my bachelor’s degree, then worked as a nurse in Iran for about eight years before moving to Scandinavia,” he recalls. “Nursing in Iran was challenging, with heavy workloads and long shifts, so I decided to look for better opportunities to grow in my field and to provide a better life to my family.”
Answering the Danish call to sustain their struggling medical infrastructure, in December 2024 Amir and his wife boarded a flight to Aarhus – a residence permit in one hand, and a one way ticket in the other. “Aarhus seemed a welcoming city for students and professionals, and it offered good opportunities to learn Danish: it felt like a good place to start a new life in Europe.”
“I wanted to work in better healthcare conditions,” says Mahsa (pseudonym used to protect her privacy), a 40 year-old nurse who arrived in Aarhus in October 2024 with nearly a decade of professional experience. “I thought Denmark offered a good opportunity to advance my career, so I decided to give it a try: I took all the money I had saved from my career, initiated the process, and bought my ticket.”
27-year-old Sara (pseudonym) had a similar experience: “I dreamt of living abroad, working in a healthcare system with better working conditions and a pay that better reflected the effort I put into my career,” she says, recalling the last few months anticipating her landing in Jylland in October 2025.
A new life in Denmark
The dream soon became a reality, and after some bureaucratic paperwork, the three left Iran and moved to Denmark. However, they soon realised that finding a job in the field can represent a significant challenge: “At first I didn’t realise I was among last ones to receive this residence opportunity, before the borders closed,” Sara says. “I also didn’t know this meant fewer healthcare positions would be available.”
“Getting through the visa process wasn’t easy, but little did I know living here would be even harder,” Mahsa says. “I had heard that in countries like Germany, immigrant nurses can access healthcare positions immediately – as elderly caregivers or nurse assistants. I expected Denmark to grant the same, but here the situation is different. Ever since I landed in Jylland, I’ve been alone: the government doesn’t support you with a position related to what you’ve studied and trained for, and finding a job depends on yourself only.”
Amir confirms: “In the two years I’ve been here I haven’t even set foot in a hospital.” He adds: “But this country is so expensive, and one just can’t afford to live only out of the savings brought from home: an alternative job is necessary.”
In many cases, this happens to be in hospitality.
A job in hospitality in Denmark
While the nursing market runs at a measured pace, hospitality has become a vital safety net for many newcomers: restaurant kitchens, café floors and manual trade jobs have quickly become alternative workplaces, welcoming the expertise of trained professionals while the language barrier forces them to postpone their careers. “Opportunities for foreigners in Denmark are scarce,” says Amir.
“It took me four months to land my first job as a butcher and, because of the high cost of living in Denmark, while I was unemployed I spent almost all the savings I had brought with me from Iran. However, I quickly realised that position was damaging my hands, so I had to quit. After four more months on the look out, I found my current job as a dishwasher in an Italian restaurant.”
Language is one of the main barriers slowing down their career. “Countries like Germany and the UK require a language certification to apply for a residence permit. Here it wasn’t necessary, but this is now having an impact on our job search,” Sara says.
While the three all agree that being able to speak Danish is paramount for their role, the learning curve often represents a problem: “It is a fundamental step to guarantee clear and dynamic nurse-patient interactions – especially if they’re elders and not so proficient in English. It is necessary to understand what their problem is, how they are feeling, and for them to understand us,” Mahsa comments.
“However, after starting school, I understood how complicated learning it would be: Danish is notoriously hard, and, since classes aren’t directed to nurses and hospital lexicon, I feel like I spend half of my time in a lecture hall, but I rarely get access to the education I actually need for my job.”
Moreover, having a full time job to sustain one’s family actually makes it harder to advance with the language courses and nursing career. “Ever since I started working, I have been so occupied that I barely have time to study Danish,” says Amir. “I have a full-time position, but sometimes I even have to work double shifts: covering what is usually a two-men job is exhausting.”
Mahsa adds: “I came here to find better work opportunities, but now I am stuck in a position in hospitality that feels like a step back. And between language classes, my current job and bureaucratic responsibilities, I’m constantly overworked and overwhelmed.” She adds: “There is so much on my shoulders that I never have time for myself. And by also being far from friends and family, every day that passes, I feel lonelier and more hopeless.”
The struggles of finding a job
The three have sent many applications to work in healthcare, but all returned with a rejection.
Mahsa explains: “When I sent my application to move to Denmark I considered myself successful in my field: a nursing degree from a university in Tehran, two years of mandatory nursing service, and nearly 10 years of experience as a nurse in public hospitals on my shoulders, in positions such as head nurse and supervisor. But that doesn’t matter here.”
Amir admits: “Finding a position in a hospital is almost impossible, but not even retirement houses seem to have a spot for us.” Sara agrees: “I even applied for volunteering positions, but I haven’t received a single positive answer.”
Mahsa continues: “The first few months I was hopeful, but I quickly understood: it is not easy to find a job as a nurse within three years – especially when they keep rejecting you without a proper, explicit reason. It feels like they don’t even want us to be and stay here.”
Discussing her expectations, she adds: “I feel trapped in this country and I am angry. It feels like the Danish government issued visas without the capacity, any real sense of responsibility, or a clear plan for our future as nurses.”
She adds: “I truly love nursing, interacting with patients and helping them get better. I have extensive experience in caring for patients with acute conditions, and I believe that before immigrating to Denmark, I was a successful professional in my field. But now, instead of using my expertise in patient care, I have to work shielded behind a kitchen wall.”
A future in Denmark
“I know this is what I signed up for, and I knew it would’ve been a challenging process,” Sara admits. “I don’t mind my current job; however, it does feel like a step back, considering the effort I put into my career, the struggles of financing a loan to move out and the emotional burden of living away from home.”
Despite their condition, right now returning to Iran is not affordable: “It is incredibly hard to leave your whole life behind and adapt to a new culture. Right now I don’t have anything left in Iran anymore,” Amir affirms.
“I just can’t,” affirms Mahsa. “It isn’t just about the conflict back at home or money: it’s about the sacrifice for a future I hope for. I put so much effort into moving here, and I want to try everything before giving up. It’s such a long and challenging process, that I don’t even want to think about the chance of going back.”
The nurse continues: “I wish the visa granted us more than three years to guarantee our success in Danish. I also wish we had job opportunities right from the start, even as social healthcare assistants for the elderly. But while this is not what I found, I’m not ready to leave yet.”
In this situation, Sara and Amir hope the system will offer them a chance soon. Sara is optimistic: “I have friends who found a nursing related job, which leads me to believe there is still a chance for me as well.”
Amir affirms: “I came to Denmark with a dream, but in these conditions I sometimes wish I had a home to return to. But while I can’t, I just have to stay positive and hope the future we dreamt of in Denmark becomes our present soon.”
He continues: “Right now, my focus is on building my career in Denmark: I’m investing time in learning the language and understanding the healthcare system. Hopefully, it’ll lead to a position in healthcare soon,” he adds, as he and his compatriots’ days proceed between Danish classes and kitchen shifts – washing dishes and preparing gourmet food for an unsuspectful set of guests, unaware their favourite restaurant is probably not only the most tasteful in the country, but potentially also the safest.