The Business that was Meant To Be

Hisham Ramadan ’87 and Ahmad Ramadan ’85

It was meant to be. One day, Hisham Ramadan ’87 was planning to mass produce his patented invention that he had been working on for the past few years, and the next day, he was manufacturing protective face masks to a market that couldn’t seem to get enough. “We literally can’t keep up,” he said, bewildered.

‘We,’ is he and his cousin, Ahmad Ramadan ’85, a fashion expert and consultant. The two saw each other briefly at a family gathering six years ago. Hisham then asked Ahmad to design an appealing pattern to his invention, the ‘Wearable Strap for Holding Devices and Accessories.’ Ahmad agreed and thus was born their small business, “Dibrace.”

As the invention was about to be released in the market, COVID-19 hit.

The cousins were on immediate alert. They made a perfect team. Hisham, an engineer by trade, was an inventor on the side. Since his IC days, he loved creating models of all kinds. In fact, he became a certified 3-D modeler a few years ago and today holds three patents of his inventions in the US, Europe, and Lebanon. His latest patent was the wearable strap, which was about to hit the market.

Ahmad, on the other hand, owned and operated his own clothes factory and was successfully producing the work of Lebanese fashion designers. But with the economic crisis which had started earlier this year, he found himself significantly downsizing his company.

What if, thought the cousins, we can create fashionably designed masks? Ones that comply with the protective standards of the US-based Center for Disease Control and Prevention and follow the guidelines of the Lebanese Standards Institution (Libnor)?

They knew it was now or never. Hisham immediately set about creating the simulation. The result was a three-layered mask: One for protection, one for that soft cotton feel against the skin, and one to filter out germs.

Now, it was up to Ahmad to make the masks appealing to the highly fashionconscious Lebanese market.

Ahmad regathered his workforce and called up various Lebanese designers. The work began.

Well, joked Hisham, as he watched his simulation take shape, we could always give them away to our families if they don’t sell.

With halted breath, they posted on Instagram, Facebook, and WhatsApp ads of their uniquely designed protective masks, sanitized and delivered to the doorsteps.

Would it work?

At the start, the orders were few, but as COVID-19 spread, the orders trickled in, and then suddenly poured in.

Caught in a whirlwind of demand, the cousins could barely keep us. More workers were hired. Ahmad’s factory was back in business.

In less than two months, the ecofriendly masks, which now came in various models and various sizes (toddler, child, women, and men), were being sold in several supermarkets. A large number of orders were also coming in for customized masks – dotted with Swarovski crystals, normal strass, or machine embroidering logo, name, or novel patterns.

Much to their surprise, the Ramadan cousins also found themselves exporting to the US, Canada, KSA, UAE, and Kuwait.

“It all happened so fast,” said Hisham. “I am still trying to get used to it. I guess it was just meant to be.”