Fighting sectarianism with cheap groceries
Beirut's Furn el Chebbak district is a bustling residential area with small shops and heavy traffic, located some 3 kilometres south of the city centre.
Lining the main street are statues of saints mounted in glass cases – an indication that the neighbourhood was once more strongly influenced by Christianity. Now, people from diverse religious and ethnic backgrounds live here.
As in most of Lebanon, the standard of living in Furn el Chebbak, a formerly middle-class neighbourhood, has fallen dramatically since the economy went into a steep decline in 2019. The cost-of-living crisis means that people welcomed the opening of Mann wa Salwa, a non-profit grocery store, last year.
Yousef is a regular shopper at the mini market, even though he doesn't live in the district. "The prices are really decent, and I am happy that I can save a bit," he said. "I have three children and I sometimes bring them chocolate bars when I come home from work. Here, the bars are 40% cheaper," he said.
'Social supermarket'
The supermarket's two founders, Nawal Traboulsi and Mariam Younes, explained they believe everyone in the Lebanese capital should have access to affordable and quality food.
The name of the shop derives from an Iraqi sweet similar to nougat that is said to "nourish and make happy".
"We wanted to combat this sense of powerlessness, as many people think that Lebanon can't be helped as the same political class still rules the country," said Traboulsi.
In 2019, Lebanese people took to the streets to protest against the corrupt political elite, but four years later, most of the same politicians are still in office.
Since then, the country has experienced an unprecedented economic crisis with the Lebanese pound losing around 90% of its value, in "one of the worst global crises since the mid-19th century", according to the World Bank.
"We founded this social supermarket to combat the difficult economic situation," said Traboulsi. Through a non-governmental organisation she had started many years earlier, the duo managed to attract international funding to enable affordable prices.
Local products preferred
Mann wa Salwa is based on the idea of a cooperative, a store in which everyone is both customer and owner.
But non-members can shop there, too. The mini market sells a range of goods, from everyday staples, fresh fruit and vegetables, washing powder and hygiene products to books and, of course, the chocolate beloved by Yousef's children.
The focus is on products that don't need refrigeration, as Beirut often suffers from power cuts for several hours a day.
Mariam Younes explained that costumers have recently been stockpiling basic goods, as many Lebanese worry the war in Gaza could spill over and spread to Lebanon.
The cooperative tries to buy products grown or produced locally. "We want our cooperative to support not only those buying goods, but also local producers and traders," said Traboulsi. But local isn't always cheaper.
"The state doesn't impose taxes on goods from China, Turkey or Syria," she explained. "Local goods are often more expensive, but that's something we are willing to accept." To keep the price of the local goods low, the team covers a certain percentage of the cost.
Life in Lebanon: no electricity, no petrol
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No foreign currency: Lebanon is in the midst of an economic crisis the likes of which the country has never experienced. The Lebanese pound has lost about 90 percent of its value since the end of 2019. Foreign currency is now a precious commodity. For the population, unable to access hard currency, this means a dramatic loss of purchasing power -
People are desperate for gas and petrol: the fuel shortage is a symptom of the economic crisis. Petrol used to be cheap in Lebanon and was generously subsidised by the state. But those days are practically over. Lebanon has to import fuel. But the country lacks the foreign currency to do so, all reserves are as good as exhausted. And without fuel, the power plants cannot operate -
No air conditioning: as a result, and also because of rampant nepotism and mismanagement, electricity is scarce. People can barely sleep in the high temperatures, because without electricity even the air-conditioning cannot be operated. Older people suffer the most. Even lifts do not always work, even if electricity has been purchased from private companies for enormous sums of money -
Long queues at petrol stations: "Sometimes people spend the night in their cars at the petrol stations to tank up the next morning," says a Lebanese woman from Beirut. Many petrol stations are only open for a few hours a day. The desperation is so great in some places that the army has already had to intervene because there have not only been fights, but shots have been fired over the lack of fuel -
Bread shortages everywhere you look: those who don't have petrol often can't drive to work because Lebanon has no public transport, except for a few buses. And if you can't fill up your car, you can't deliver bread to shops or restaurants. Not to mention the fact that electricity is also needed to bake the goods. On top of that, the price for the subsidised bread has also increased in recent months -
Spoiled food stores: the list of hardships that the Lebanese are facing in their daily lives is getting longer and longer. In some cases, grocers have had to throw away their frozen goods because they would otherwise go to waste. Because of the lack of electricity, people mainly buy food that does not need refrigeration. On the net, many Lebanese are now exchanging recipes that do not require refrigerated food -
Looming education emergency: the fuel and economic crisis is also having an impact on the education sector. On the one hand, some parents can hardly afford the high school fees for public schools; teachers' salaries are not being paid either, and the same applies to the higher education sector. On the other hand, during the coronavirus pandemic, online classes cannot be guaranteed without regular electricity -
Hospitals at breaking point: hospitals in Lebanon have also recently complained about massive shortages of fuel for their generators. Without generators, ventilators, for example, have to be switched off. Medical staff are exhausted: with a new increase in coronavirus infections, hospitals in Lebanon are again at the edge of their capacity. Many doctors have long since emigrated -
Medication is in short supply: sometimes patients are asked to bring their own medicines. In Lebanon, where medicines are imported, there is a shortage of them as well. Pharmacists have not been dispensing whole packs for a long time, but have been rationing instead. A few days ago, a video appeared on the Internet showing a warehouse full of medicines. The trader was apparently aiming to sell the goods at an inflated price -
Agriculture at risk: Lebanon's agricultural sector is still heavily dependent on many imports, such as imported seeds, fertilisers or pesticides. Some entrepreneurs are trying to change this. But to use the equipment to cultivate the farmland, they also need what is lacking everywhere: electricity -
Water a precious commodity: Lebanon is also facing acute shortages in its water supply. More than four million people could be affected by water shortages in the coming days or lose access to clean drinking water altogether, the UN Children's Fund UNICEF has warned. The organisation also fears an increase in diseases due to poor hygiene caused by water shortages
Political competition
But the supermarket founders aren't just passionate about providing affordable food.
Younes and Traboulsi also have a sociopolitical vision. "Our biggest competition is not only the supermarkets, it is the political parties!" they said. "People go to parties that represent their religious group and get rice, pasta and sugar. But people should not be dependent on their political or religious leaders."
In Lebanon, the vast majority of social services are provided by non-state actors, including political organisations and religious charities, which often see themselves as representatives of specific groups.
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"However, this sectarian-based welfare has resulted in a highly fragmented and unregulated system, as well as the politicisation of the process of accessing social benefits," Haneen Sayed, a senior fellow at the Lebanese think tank Malcolm H. Kerr Carnegie Middle East Center, wrote last summer. "This system of informal social protection strengthens clientelism and patronage that are endemic in Lebanon's social structure."
The result is that citizens who are loyal to a certain political or religious leader are more likely to receive social assistance from them than those who are not considered loyal.
Traboulsi would love to see Mann wa Salwa supermarket help bring an end to this political and religious segregation in Lebanon. "Of course, we are a shop that sells affordable food – but the goal is that we want to get away from sectarianism!" she said.
The two founders hope their supermarket will be able to cater for up to 500 families in future, and that even more people will become members of the cooperative. To achieve this, they plan to organise a few promotional events.
"I hope that more and more people will shop here," said customer Yousef, before leaving the shop. "This cooperative is a good idea."
Diana Hodali
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