The economy has shrunk by 20 per cent over the last year. According to the United Nations at least 55 per cent of the country now live under the poverty line, meaning they live off just a few dollars a day. Over the last year, the Lebanese lira has lost 80 per cent of its value and some food prices have more than quadrupled. That reached a crescendo in the pandemic and after the August blast which left billions of dollars in damage and, according to the Norwegian Refugee Council, caused 70,000 people to lose their jobs. Lebanon has long been in the grips of an unprecedented financial crisis anchored in decades of chronic mismanagement and corruption. Its economy is inextricably intertwined tied to the economy of neighbouring war-torn Syria, which heavily relies on the Lebanese banking sector. The tiny Mediterranean country is also home to nearly 2 million vulnerable Syrians and Palestinian refugees who are already struggling in extreme poverty. The international community has promised to support Lebanon whose rupture could ignite the tinderbox region. The country is careering towards total collapse as it buckles under the weight of a tripled-headed crisis: the aftermath of the blast which has left swathes of the capital in rubble, an unprecedented surge in coronavirus cases overwhelming the healthcare system and a financial crash that has pushed more than half the country of 7 million people under the poverty line. Half a year on from the devastating explosion which killed more than 200 people, injured several thousand more and destroyed nearly a quarter of a million homes, St George hospital, and its staff like Farah, are once again on the frontline of the latest mess of disasters to confront Lebanon.