According to the United Nations Development Programme (UNDP), a total of 200,000 housing units were affected by the explosion, with an estimated 40,000 buildings damaged, of which 3,000 were severely damaged.

A month after the Beirut port blast catastrophe, many residents still find themselves stranded between insurance companies that are unwilling to pay compensation, promised aid from the government or donors that has yet to arrive and frozen bank accounts due to the economic and financial crisis.

The most vulnerable in the affected areas may have lost both their homes and their incomes.

Poor households, refugees and migrant workers are particularly vulnerable because they have less resources to rebuild damaged shelters and buy food and essential items.

According to the United Nations Development Programme (UNDP), a total of 200,000 housing units were affected by the explosion, with an estimated 40,000 buildings damaged, of which 3,000 were severely damaged.

More than 15,000 establishments - some 50 percent of all Beirut establishments - are also estimated to be damaged, the majority in the wholesale, retail and hospitality sectors.

The explosion of 2,750 tons of ammonium nitrate stored without security measures since 2013 in the port of the Lebanese capital ripped through the city on August 4.

A walk through Gemmayzeh, Mar Mikhael and Karantina, the most affected neighbourhoods, reveal the extent of the damage caused by the explosion, with the destruction of hundreds of residential homes, shops and cars.

Najeeb Baaqlini, 50, owner of a mini market in Gemmayzeh, Ashrafieh, told Arabian Business: "My loss is very huge and is estimated at thousands of dollars. All the contents of the store, air conditioners and tables were destroyed, and I'm trying to repair it at my own expense, after the insurance company refused to compensate us."

The cause of the explosion is still under investigation and insurance companies are not obliged to cover the material losses if the policies make no mention of dangerous materials or bombs. There are three exclusions in the insurance policies: radioactive material, biological material and weapons, according to the Association of Insurance Companies in Lebanon.

Naeim Badawi, 45, owner of a saloon in Mar Mikhael, had lost hope of state aid, telling our reporter: "My loss is estimated at $15,000. I have enough money to repair my saloon, but I can't get to my bank account because it's frozen since last fall and aid may or may not come, albeit late, but it certainly won't be enough to compensate for my entire loss."

Despite calls to order banks to release even a small portion of the frozen funds of the people affected by the explosion at the port, the Lebanon Central Bank has not acted.

Leila Dib, 37, a widowed mother of three, said inside her severely damaged apartment in Karantina: "As you can see, the apartment was badly damaged, and I don't have the money to repair it, and I don't have insurance. We bet on receiving aid to restore the apartment. We registered our name with the Lebanese High Relief Commission and they promised to help, but without specifying a date."

To date, the UN-coordinated response to the explosions that is seeking $344.5 million to address immediate life-saving needs for three months is less than 17 percent funded.

Pierre, who preferred not to mention his family name, owner of a grocery store, said desperately: "We find ourselves handcuffed, with no money, no insurance, and only promises of aid. We have no choice but to wait."

These testimonies summarise the tragic situation of the residents of the affected areas of Beirut. Their homes without windows, doors, or even roofs, and their shops, which are their source of livelihood, are damaged.

They seek aid early before the arrival of winter. They know when winter will come, but they don’t know when aid will ever come.