Sidon Among meandering alleyways in the historic market of
Lebanons southern city of Sidon, cobblers and menders are doing
brisk business, as an economic crisis revives demand for
once-fading trades.
At Ahmed al-Bizris shoe repair store, nestled among old stone
arches and a crowded warren of shops and stalls, workers are busy
adjusting a womans sandals and replacing the worn-out sole of a
mans shoe.
Repairs are in high demand, said Bizri, 48, who learned the
trade from his father.
People from all walks of life come to us to repair their shoes:
rich, poor, average workers, public servants, soldiers, he
added.
Since late 2019, Lebanon has been in a state of economic
collapse that the World Bank says is one of the worst in modern
times.
The Lebanese pound has lost around 98 percent of its value
against the US dollar, and most of the population has been plunged
into poverty.
Bizri said his work has increased 60 percent since the crisis
began, adding that people now prefer to spend up to one million
Lebanese pounds (around $11 on parallel markets) to fix old shoes
rather than buy new ones.
Even people who had shoes hidden away for 20 years are bringing
them out for repair, he said with a smile, boots hanging from rusty
hooks and coloured laces on the walls around him.
In a shop nearby in central Sidon, fellow cobbler Walid al-Suri,
58, works with an old manual sewing machine that clicks and clacks
as he pumps the pedal with his foot.
He stitches up a hole in the side of a shoe and trims the
thread, covering it with black polish to camouflage the repair.
Its true that our work has increased, he said from his workshop,
a tiny space with faded green walls filled with shoes of all
kinds.
But there are no profits because the price of all the materials
has gone up, from glue to needles, thread and nails, he said.
Suffocating
In Lebanon, a country dependent on imports, inflation has
soared.
In 2022, inflation averaged 171 percent, according to the World
Bank one of the highest rates worldwide.
We pay for everything in dollars, not in Lebanese pounds, said
Suri, who repairs around 20 shoes a day.
For that, he said he earns about $11, hardly enough to cover the
basic needs of his family of three.
Some people have asked him to repair shoes that were verging on
unfixable because they had no money for new ones, he said.
Elsewhere in the coastal city, Mustafa al-Qadi, 67, is
mending duvets under the soft light of a window during one of
Lebanons long power cuts.
The bankrupt state provides just a handful of hours of
electricity a day.
Qadi uses thick thread and deftly sews stitches into a duvet
spread out on the floor, other quilts folded an...