BEIRUT (AP) – Closure of shops, corporate bankruptcies and shelving pharmacies: in Lebanon these days clashes erupt in supermarkets as shoppers struggle to get subsidized milk powder, rice and oil kitchen.
Like almost all Lebanese, Nisrine Taha’s life has been turned upside down in the last year under the weight of the country’s overwhelming economic crisis. Anxiety about the future eats away at her.
Five months ago, she was fired from her job at the real estate company where she had been working for years. Her 21-year-old daughter cannot find work, forcing the family to rely on her husband’s monthly salary, which has lost 90% of its value due to the collapse of the national currency.
The family has been unable to pay the rent for seven months and Taha worries that her landlord’s patience will not last forever. As the price of meat and chicken skyrocketed beyond their means, they changed their diet.
“Everything is very expensive,” he said.
Taha’s family is among hundreds of thousands of low- and middle-class Lebanese who have been plunged into sudden poverty by the crisis that began in late 2019, the culmination of decades of corruption by a greedy woman. political class that plundered almost every sector of the economy.
The Lebanese pound has lost more than 25% in value in recent weeks alone. Inflation and commodity prices have skyrocketed in a country that imports more than 80% of its commodities. Wage purchasing power has plummeted and savings have been saved, in addition to the coronavirus pandemic and a massive explosion last August in the port of Beirut that damaged parts of the capital.
According to the World Bank, more than half of the population now lives in poverty, while an intractable political crisis heralds another collapse.
Alia Moubayed, CEO of Jefferies, a diversified financial services company, said the “sharp contraction in growth, along with hyperinflation and devaluation” has pushed more people into precarious employment, raising levels of unemployment and has caused more than 50% of the population to be below the poverty line, compared to an estimated third in 2018.
Lebanon has been without a government since the last one resigned in August, and top politicians do not want to commit to the formation of a new cabinet that could pave the way for reforms and recovery. Street violence and sectarian tensions are rising.
“People die, and no one cares!” Taha said while visiting a cousin who owns a perfume shop on Beirut’s Hamra Street commercial. Both wore masks to prevent the spread of the coronavirus.
Once a well-known shopping district, known for its boutiques, bustling cafes and theaters, Hamra Street has changed in the midst of the pandemic. On the last day, many stores were closed, some due to closure measures, others permanently due to the economic crisis. Traders who are still open complain that they sell almost nothing.
Beggars demanded money from pedestrians. A woman and her son sat on the pavement next to a drawing on a wall with the words, “We are all beggars.”
“It can’t get any worse,” said Ibrahim Simmo, 59, who runs a clothing store. Sales have dropped 90%, compared to previous years. He was unable to sell his winter stocks during the virus shutdown for nearly two months earlier this year, and now the currency’s fall makes things worse.
Ibrahim Farshoukh, 28, said he barely pays rent for his shop where he sells handmade leather bracelets and bags. Sometimes his wife is left behind as she goes out into the street, trying to sell bracelets to passersby. “The situation is unbearable,” he added.
The vast majority of the population is paid in Lebanese pounds, which means their incomes fall further as prices rise and pensions evaporate. The crisis has also depleted foreign reserves, prompting strong warnings that the Central Bank can no longer fund subsidies for some commodities, including fuel.
Videos on social media show fist fights in supermarkets as shoppers try to reach for subsidized products such as cooking oil or milk powder. In a video, armed members of one of Lebanon’s intelligence agencies check their ID cards inside a supermarket before handing over a bag of subsidized rice.
People who used to live comfortably now can’t afford school fees and insurance premiums, don’t even eat well.
“I don’t remember the last time we ate meat. I can’t afford it, ”said Taha, whose husband is an airport maintenance employee. The family’s diet now consists mainly of lentils, rice and bulgur, she said.
The collapse of the currency has forced some grocery stores, pharmacies and other companies to close temporarily, as officials warn of growing food insecurity.
Nabil Fahd, head of the supermarket owners association, told the local MTV station that people treasure goods, that stores can no longer rest; once something is exhausted, homeowners have to pay more in Lebanese pounds for new supplies. “We are in a very, very serious crisis,” he said.
The price of bread, the country’s main commodity, doubled over the past year, and earlier this month bakers reduced the weight of a loaf of bread, without changing its price.
Taha blames Lebanon’s corrupt political class for bringing the small nation to near bankruptcy.
Assem Shoueib left his job at a leading newspaper in Beirut in 2000 and moved with his family to France, where he opened a Lebanese restaurant near Paris. Walking down Hamra Street on a recent visit, the 59-year-old said he made the right decision.
“It was clear that the country was heading for collapse,” he said.