The new Lebanon, a nation of negative coping strategies

Over the past year, Lebanon has suffered from a devastating, continuing economic and financial crisis, the COVID-19 pandemic and an explosion that killed over 200 people, injured thousands more and caused massive damage in Beirut’s commercial centre.

These new shocks came on top of longer-standing economic chaos and combined to dramatically increase extreme poverty and moderate poverty, as defined by the United Nations Development Program and the Government of Lebanon (US$ 8.50 a day and $14 a day respectively.)

Since the start of 2020, the extreme poverty headcount is estimated to have tripled and moderate poverty nearly doubled.

Falling incomes have forced families – Lebanese, Syrian, Palestinian and others – to resort to negative coping mechanisms, including child marriage, excessive debt, child labor and undereating, which all have adverse effects on children and parents alike.

“I’ve lived here since 1982. Throughout my long life – including wars – these are the worst of days. Nothing compares to our struggle today. Until the beginning of last year, LBP15,000 used to buy a lot. Now we can get nothing with it. I don’t even go to the doctor any longer – he’s only going to give me a list of pills that either aren’t available or that I can’t afford to pay for. We don’t even help each other as a family – no one has anything extra to share. People like us – normal Lebanese, hard-working people -are becoming increasingly invisible in this society.” Lebanese grandmother Um Rabiya, 71, Qab Elias, Bekaa, northeast Lebanon

“Our father is too old to work, and our mother says her body is tired from spending so many years harvesting vegetables, so we go to work around our neighbourhood collecting glass and plastic from garbage bins. What we collect, we sell. Sometimes we can make up to LBP15,000 a day (a little over US$1 at current black-market exchange rates). We’d like to go back to school, but our parents say they rely on our earnings to survive now.” Anas and Brahim, 9-year-old Syrian refugee twins, now living in Tyre, southern Lebanon

“My son has just turned 11. He’s not yet strong enough to work, but it won’t be long before he needs to go out and work the same way I do.”  Lebanese father of five, Hamad, 30, scrap metal collector, Saida, southern Lebanon

“I’m the youngest of 14 children in the family – my father has two wives – and the only one that isn’t married, so it fell to me to support my parents. My father is old and has diabetes, and my mother is too sick to work. I left school a year ago to take a job packing bags for customers at the local supermarket. I earn LBP350,000 a month (around US$28 at current black-market exchange rates). It’s not what I wanted my life to be. I talk with friends about how we planned to go to college, but it will never happen now. I need to keep working to support my parents.” Siham, 15-year-old Syrian refugee, now living in Tyre, southern Lebanon

“When we reached Lebanon as refugees from Idlib six years ago, we arrived with only the clothes we were wearing. Last month our home burned, and we lost all our possessions again. Now, we must rebuild our lives again. This time, it’s hard to see a way forward. We see only mounting debts and increasing hardship on our young child and us”. Syrian refugee, Adnan. Father of 12-year-old Walid, who was born with Down’s syndrome, living in Beddawi, northern Lebanon

“We are unable to buy what we were able to buy two years ago. My husband used to get temporary jobs but with the crisis it became very difficult, and he also got sick recently. I grow plants and make ornaments from recycled items, but it’s been months that I am not being able to sell anything. It’s our eldest son (20) who is getting some temporary jobs. I try to limit our expenses to ensure we have for food and medicines. For example, I stopped visiting my parents who live far away, to save the transportation money to buy food”. Abeer, Palestinian mother of seven children. Burj el Barajneh camp in southern Beirut  

“Like all children in Lebanon, mine have missed school for over a year. The difference is, though, when every other child returns to school, mine won’t. With my husband unable to find work, I can no longer afford to pay for their transport. When the term begins, their seats in the classroom will remain empty.” Nadia, Lebanese mother of three, Hiyata, Mount Lebanon

“We survive on UN cash support and debts – but we have so much debt now. The UN give us LBP500,000 a month – that’s to support six of us. When we boosted it through my husband working, there was a time when this would have been enough. But now my husband cannot find work, and the prices of everything have gone up by so much. My youngest son just got married too – to a 15-year-old girl. She’s delightful, I like her a lot, but it means another mouth to feed in our home.” Sara, 43-year-old Syrian refugee, now living in Aarsal, northeast Lebanon

“Two years ago, my father died, and so, instead of preparing to take up a place on campus this fall, I spend my days cutting grass, trimming hedges, and chopping down trees. This was my father’s life, and it was my role to take over from him when he passed on. I hope that by doing this, at least my brothers and sisters can remain in school.” Lebanese Ayman Gazzawi, from Berqayel, northern Lebanon. Now 18 years old, he was compelled to quit his education to help support his family.

“My youngest child has Spina Bifida and water on the brain – I can no longer afford to pay for her medical treatment. I’m pregnant now, too – but with complications. I don’t have money to seek further treatment for myself either. Instead, I’ll wait to see what God delivers me on the day.” Syrian refugee and mother of two, Gharam al Hamad, 27, now living in Darb El Seem, Saida, southern Lebanon

“Families are turning to desperate measures in order to support themselves now. Such is their desperation, and often because all other options are exhausted, parents are sending their children – sometimes as young as 6 years of age – out to work. The children end up hawking goods on the streets, working in garages or on construction sites. Already vulnerable, the children are exposed to additional risks of violence and abuse. We’ve seen cases increasing at a level we’ve never seen before, and across all sectors of society – Lebanese as well as Syrians and Palestinians.” Roula Zeini, case worker at UNICEF partner Mouvement Social, Tripoli

To respond to the increasing needs as revealed in the rapid assessment, UNICEF is enhancing its social protection, education, child survival, child protection and youth development programs to reach more children and young people facing the impacts of this compounded crisis.