What it really costs to be young in Lebanon

There was a time when your twenties were supposed to be the decade of firsts: your first job, your first stable income, your first car, and perhaps the beginning of building a home of your own. Today, for many young Lebanese, life has become a decade of waiting. Waiting for a salary that allows you to plan beyond the next paycheck. Waiting for years of internships and unpaid experience to turn into a stable job. Waiting until buying or renting a home becomes financially possible.

At some point in their twenties, many young Lebanese find themselves asking the same questions: When will I be able to afford a place of my own? When will my career become stable enough to support a family? When will I stop calculating every expense before making a decision? Instead of saving for the future, many are simply trying to keep up with the present.

The home that keeps getting further away

In Lebanon, the idea of adulthood has become increasingly tied to a question that seems simple but is becoming harder to answer: when will I be able to build a life of my own? In Lebanon, where marriage has traditionally marked an important transition into adulthood and where establishing a household is often considered a prerequisite for starting a family, the dream of having a home feels farther away than ever.

Buying a property, once seen as a major life milestone, is now out of reach for many young professionals after the financial collapse. Even renting has become a challenge. The financial crisis also shut down one of the main ways many young Lebanese used to buy a home. Before 2019, the Public Corporation for Housing (PCH) offered subsidized housing loans that allowed low- and middle-income families to purchase homes through affordable monthly installments.

However, when the banking sector collapsed, these loans were suspended, leaving many young people without a realistic way to finance a home, even if they had a stable income. Although housing loans resumed in June 2024 through Banque de l'Habitat, the new program is much more limited, offering smaller loan amounts and stricter eligibility conditions than the pre-crisis system. For many, finding a place to live is no longer simply a question of preference, it has become a question of affordability. Additionally, the World Bank’s 2024 Lebanon Poverty and Equity Assessment found that poverty in Lebanon increased from 12% in 2012 to 44% in 2022.

This report shows that the rapid collapse of the Lebanese lira, soaring inflation, and the banking crisis have left many families struggling to keep up with the rising cost of living, forcing them to cut back on essentials such as food, healthcare, and other daily expenses.

Working more, earning less

Finding a job has never been the finish line it once was.

Lebanon has struggled with youth unemployment for years, but the economic crisis significantly worsened the situation. According to the International Labour Organization (ILO), Lebanon’s employment-to-population ratio has fallen to 30.6%, while youth unemployment has reached 47.8%, reflecting the severe pressure the economic crisis has placed on job opportunities. 

Those fortunate enough to find employment often discover another challenge waiting for them: salaries that struggle to keep pace with the rising cost of living. Many companies have partially "dollarized" wages to retain talent, yet numerous young professionals continue to juggle multiple freelance jobs, remote work, or side hustles simply to maintain a modest standard of living.

Perhaps the greatest irony is that this generation is often described as ambitious, educated, and highly skilled. Yet for many, success is no longer measured by career growth but by something much simpler: earning enough to pay the bills, and imagine a future in the country they still call home.

The experience paradox: You need experience to get experience

For many Lebanese graduates, the transition from university to employment has become a frustrating waiting game. For previous generations, the path seemed clear and straightforward: graduate, find a job, gain experience, and gradually build a career. Internships have always been an important step before entering the workforce, but they have become even more essential in recent years as Lebanon’s economic crisis has reduced job opportunities and made stable, well-paying employment increasingly difficult to find.

For many, this means spending years building a CV before they can begin building financial stability. Perhaps this is why social media has become a mirror of an entire generation’s anxiety. Instagram and TikTok are filled with memes joking that young people should have “started working at 10 years old” just to meet job descriptions demanding five or ten years of experience. Behind the humor is a genuine frustration: young people are expected to be educated, experienced, financially independent, and professionally established almost immediately after entering adulthood.

This experience is not only reflected in statistics but also in the stories of young Lebanese graduates themselves. Jad, a recent AUB graduate, completed both a bachelor’s and a master’s degree and gained experience through multiple internships, described “feeling trapped in this cycle”. Despite investing years in education and professional development, he has struggled to secure a stable job because many positions continue to require even more experience. In his view, previous generations often had a clearer path into the workforce, where gaining a degree and some initial experience could be enough to begin a career.

Today, however, the economic crisis has reduced available opportunities while increasing competition, leaving many young graduates feeling that no amount of preparation is enough. As he pointed out, “you need experience to get experience,” capturing the frustration of a generation that is constantly asked to prove itself before being given the opportunity to start.

The price of endurance

For years, Lebanese people have been described as “resilient,” a word that has become almost synonymous with the country itself. Yet, as a generation grows up through one crisis after another, from the economic collapse and the COVID-19 pandemic to the Beirut Port explosion and years of instability, an important question emerges: how much can a generation be expected to endure before resilience becomes exhaustion?