Lebanon’s Brain Drain: 'I'm Never Coming Back'

People are pictured inside the terminal at Beirut International Airport Beirut, on January 27, 2020. (Photo by ANWAR AMRO / AFP)
People are pictured inside the terminal at Beirut International Airport Beirut, on January 27, 2020. (Photo by ANWAR AMRO / AFP)
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Lebanon’s Brain Drain: 'I'm Never Coming Back'

People are pictured inside the terminal at Beirut International Airport Beirut, on January 27, 2020. (Photo by ANWAR AMRO / AFP)
People are pictured inside the terminal at Beirut International Airport Beirut, on January 27, 2020. (Photo by ANWAR AMRO / AFP)

When Lebanon's protests erupted in October, thousands found a renewed commitment to their homeland and vowed to fix a country that has long fed its best and brightest to the diaspora.

Then the economy unraveled.

Students and young professionals who had mobilized en masse to demand better opportunities in their home country started filling in immigration forms and applying to universities abroad, Agence France Presse reported.

Mothers on bustling protest squares who had been complaining about their children living far away have since seen even more leave.

With no clear path out of Lebanon's worst economic crisis in decades, the will to remain has petered out and many are now scrambling for the exit.

"I'm leaving and I'm never coming back," said Youssef Nassar, a 29-year-old cinematographer who has booked a one-way ticket to Canada for next month.

"Nothing is going right in this country for me to stay here,” he told AFP.

Lebanon is suffering its worst economic crisis since the 1975-1990 civil war and everyone is feeling the heat. Scores of companies have closed, salaries have been slashed, and unemployment rates are skyrocketing.

Inflation doubled between October and November, according to Lebanon's Blominvest Bank, while the Lebanese pound has plunged by a third against the dollar in the parallel exchange market.

Nassar criticized the political class for failing to chart a way out of the crisis.

"I have developed a hate for this country," he said.

Nassar used to make a decent earning every month from shooting photo and video campaigns for fashion brands, advertising agencies and even English rock artist Steven Wilson. 

But since Lebanon's economic crisis accelerated with the start of anti-government protests in October, with banks temporarily closing and later severely limiting withdrawals, he has only been booked once.

Seven of his clients, including a high-profile member of the Lebanese parliament, have so far failed to pay the $25,000 they collectively owe him for previous projects.

"I want to work on my career and my future," said Nassar, who holds a Canadian passport. "I'm not willing to wait forever for the country to get better."

He is not the only one seeking better chances abroad.

Information International, an independent Lebanon-based research body, estimates that the number of Lebanese who left the country and did not return in 2019 jumped by 42 percent on the previous year.

Google searches from within Lebanon for the term "immigration" hit a five-year peak between November and December, according to Google Trends.

The last time the search term was that popular was right after Lebanon's 2006 war with Israel.

Immigration lawyers, for their part, say business is booming.

"Demand is up by at least 75 percent," said one immigration lawyer who asked not to be named to protect his business.

He said he is currently processing 25 applications.

Most are to Canada, which along with Australia is among the most popular destinations for Lebanese emigrants due to their demand for highly skilled people, the lawyer said. 

The bulk of his clients are educated youths and young professionals working in pharmaceuticals, information technology and finance.

"They are leaving because of the economic and political situation," he told AFP.

Decades of conflict, sluggish growth and corruption have prompted many Lebanese to emigrate -- a fact touted by Lebanese officials who boast the success of the country's expatriates.

Although there are no official figures, Lebanon's diaspora is estimated to be more than double the size of its domestic population of four million.

This chronic exodus has drawn the ire of demonstrators, who accuse politicians they view as corrupt of hijacking the country and forcing its people out.

"I had been thinking about leaving ever since I was 16 years old," said Fatima, an architect by training who is now 28.

"When the revolution started, that was the very first time I ever felt like I belonged, the very first time I ever felt that Lebanon's flag meant something to me."

But last month, Fatima lost a high-paying job at an international NGO after donors cut funding due to the crisis.

"This is when everything changed for me," she told AFP.

She found an immigration lawyer and is in the process of applying to emigrate to Canada -- something she is determined to complete.

"I'm tired of fighting all the time," she said.

"I don't think I will be failing my country if I leave," she added.

"I will be failing it if I stay and get more depressed and do nothing."



Moving Heaven, Earth to Make Bread in Gaza

Displaced Palestinian girls bake bread at the Bureij refugee camp in the central Gaza Strip - AFP
Displaced Palestinian girls bake bread at the Bureij refugee camp in the central Gaza Strip - AFP
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Moving Heaven, Earth to Make Bread in Gaza

Displaced Palestinian girls bake bread at the Bureij refugee camp in the central Gaza Strip - AFP
Displaced Palestinian girls bake bread at the Bureij refugee camp in the central Gaza Strip - AFP

In Gaza, where hunger gnaws and hope runs thin, flour and bread are so scarce that they are carefully divided by families clinging to survival.

"Because the crossing points are closed, there's no more gas and no flour, and no firewood coming in," said Umm Mohammed Issa, a volunteer helping to make bread with the few resources still available.

Israel resumed military operations in the Palestinian territory in mid-March, shattering weeks of relative calm brought by a fragile ceasefire.

The United Nations has warned of a growing humanitarian catastrophe unfolding in the besieged territory, where Israel's blockade on aid since March 2 has cut off food, fuel and other essentials to Gaza's 2.4 million people, AFP reported.
Israel has repeatedly said it will not allow aid in, accusing Hamas of diverting the supplies, a claim the Palestinian militant group denies.

Once again, residents have had to resort to increasingly desperate measures to feed themselves.

To cook a thin flatbread called "saj", named after the convex hotplate on which it is made, Issa said the volunteers have resorted to burning pieces of cardboard.

"There's going to be famine," the Palestinian woman said, a warning international aid groups have previously issued over the course of 18 month of war.

"We'll be in the situation where we can no longer feed our children."

- 'Bread is precious' -

Until the end of March, Gazans gathered each morning outside the few bakeries still operating, in the hope of getting some bread.

But one by one, the ovens cooled as ingredients -- flour, water, salt and yeast -- ran out.

Larger industrial bakeries central to operations run by the UN's World Food Programme also closed for lack of flour and fuel to power their generators.

On Wednesday, World Central Kitchen (WCK) sounded the alarm about a humanitarian crisis that is "grows more dire each day."

The organization's bakery is the only one still operating in Gaza, producing 87,000 loaves of bread per day.

"Bread is precious, often substituting for meals where cooking has stopped," it said.

"I built a clay oven to bake bread to sell," said Baqer Deeb, a 35-year-old father from Beit Lahia in northern Gaza.

He has been displaced by the fighting, like almost the entire population of the territory, and is now in Gaza City.

"But now there's a severe shortage of flour," he said, "and that is making the bread crisis even worse."

There is no longer much food to be found for sale at makeshift roadside stalls, and prices are climbing, making many products unaffordable for most people.

- 'Mould and worms' -

Fidaa Abu Ummayra thought she had found a real bargain when she bought a large sack of flour for the equivalent of 90 euros at Al-Shati refugee camp in the north of the territory.

"If only I hadn't bought it," the 55-year-old said. "It was full of mould and worms. The bread was disgusting."

Before the war, a typical 25-kilo sack like the one she bought would have gone for less than 10 euros.

"We are literally dying of hunger," said Tasnim Abu Matar in Gaza City.

"We count and calculate everything our children eat, and divide up the bread to make it last for days," the 50-year-old added.

"We can't take it any more."

People rummage through debris searching for something to eat as others walk for kilometres (miles) to aid distribution points hoping to find food for their families.

Germany, France, and Britain on Wednesday called on Israel to stop blocking humanitarian aid into Gaza, warning of "an acute risk of starvation, epidemic disease and death".

According to the UN humanitarian agency OCHA, displaced people at more than 250 shelters in Gaza had no or little access to enough food last month.

True to their reputation for resilience after multiple wars, Palestinians in the Gaza Strip have devised countless ways to cope with growing hardship.

But in interviews with AFP, many said these improvised solutions often make them feel as though they've been thrust back centuries.