BEIRUT: After
decades of hard work, self-made Lebanese chocolatier Roger Zakhour thought he
would finally be able to pass a successful business to his daughter. But then
the economic crisis hit. Instead of reaping profits this Christmas, he and his
29-year-old daughter are marking down their handmade ice cream logs. "If
it continues like this, in a few months I'll be bankrupt," the 61-year-old
said sitting in his small shop, surrounded by colorful stacks of hand-crafted
chocolates.

In protest-hit
Lebanon, a free-falling economy, price hikes and a severe dollar liquidity
crunch have left local businesses struggling to stave off collapse. Zakhour
started making chocolates and then ice cream in the 1990s, refining his recipes
until he became a go-to for five-star hotels and well-off Lebanese.

As the economy worsened over the autumn, high-end hotels drastically reduced
their orders and walk-in customers became rare. Banks have restricted access to
dollars since the end of the summer, sending prices soaring as importers
struggle to secure enough hard currency to buy supplies.

Meanwhile,
Lebanon's central bank governor said "nobody knows" how much more the
cost of dollars could rise on the black market as a dire crisis piles pressure
on a 22-year-old currency peg. Deep in political turmoil, Lebanon is grappling
with its worst economic crisis in decades and battered confidence in its
banking system. The risk of devaluation has risen in a country with one of the
world's biggest foreign debt burdens.

The Lebanese
pound has weakened by more than 30 percent on the parallel market, now the main
source of cash. Banks have imposed tight controls, and the hard currency squeeze
has driven importers to hike prices. "We hope the country itself will
improve so that the economy can improve," Central Bank Governor Riad
Salameh told reporters after a meeting with parliament's finance and budget
committee on Thursday. When asked how much higher the cost of dollars would
rise, he said "nobody knows". He did not elaborate.

A Banque du Liban
(BDL) spokesperson said Salameh's comments did not indicate any change in the
official pegged rate and the central bank's policy remained to preserve it. The
remark "came in response to a question about the rate at exchange dealers
specifically." Salameh has ruled out a break in the peg, which fixes the
pound at 1,507.5 to the dollar. He has pledged repeatedly to maintain it.

Last month,
Salameh said the central bank had the ability to underpin the pound's
stability. He also said it would not go to exchange dealers to give them
dollars to keep the official rate. Street exchange dealers were offering
dollars at above 2,000 Lebanese pounds in recent days. Banks, still dealing at
the official rate, have blocked nearly all transfers abroad and curbed dollar
withdrawals - including limits of $200 a week. The head of banking association
has called the controls "a fence to protect the system" until things
return to normal.

"We're
heading somewhere we never imagined we would," said Zakhour, who had just
upgraded his kitchen when sales dropped off. Support fellow citizens In pursuit
of high-quality products, Zakhour imports his ingredients, paying in euros or
dollars. But with withdrawals restricted and no transfers abroad, that is no
longer viable. "Now when something runs out, that's it," he said.
Unprecedented protests have swept Lebanon since October 17, with people from
all backgrounds demanding a complete overhaul of a political class they deem
useless and corrupt.

The government
stepped down on October 29, but endless political deadlock has delayed a new
one being formed to tackle the urgent need for economic reforms. Zakhour's
business is just one of thousands struggling to stay afloat. Many Lebanese have
been forced to close shop, and a large number have been fired or seen their
salaries slashed by half, even as the cost of living increases.

Watching all this unfold, 31-year-old nursery school teacher Lea Hedary Kreidi
and her family racked their brains to see how they could help. Shortly after
protests started, they launched a group on Facebook called "Made in
Lebanon-The Lebanese Products Group" to encourage Lebanese to buy locally
produced goods. In just two months, they amassed more than 32,000 members, who
post ads for locally or homemade goods, or ask for local alternatives to
imported products.

'Made in Lebanon'

"We're used
to going shopping and buying what our mothers used to buy. We grab what's in
front of us without checking if it's made in Lebanon or not," she said,
seated at home by a sparkling Christmas tree. But there are locally made
options for numerous products, including detergent, shampoo, nappies, peanut
butter, ketchup, and children's building blocks. "I was surprised by how
many things there were that I didn't know about," said the mother of a
baby boy. In her drive to support her fellow citizens, Kreidi now skips her
usual supermarket in favour of nearby small grocers.

This Christmas,
only the children in her family will be receiving presents, which will all be
made in Lebanon.  In Beirut, bar manager
Rani Al-Rajji says he is also having to adapt-moving away from increasingly
expensive imports while also remaining affordable. "As much as I can, I'm
trying to lessen the blow so our guests don't feel they've lost their
purchasing power and can no longer afford to go out," said the
43-year-old, who is also an architect.

To do this, he
and his co-founders are trying to increase local brands from a fifth to around
a half of all bar and kitchen supplies. "We're trying to use local
products for all those with an alternative made in Lebanon," he said,
sitting at the bar. And they are also attempting to cut out unnecessary packaging
and marketing costs, serving wine directly from the barrel and beer from the
keg. "We can't replace everything, but we can try to give Lebanese
products more life, encourage their consumption," he said. But some
cash-strapped consumers say buying local is not their chief concern.

In a Beirut
supermarket, 35-year-old Mariam Rabbah clutched a nearly empty basket wondering
what to buy with her diminished salary. "Everything is more expensive and
we're now paid half," she said. "Now what we care about is if
something is cheap and good quality-not whether it's imported or
Lebanese." - Agencies