Iran's first female manufacturer, a victim of Trump
Iranian Leila Daneshvar, Managing Director at KTMA (Kian Tajhiz Mehr Afarin), is pictured at the company's factory in Tehran's Shahriar neighbourhood, on May 17.

Leila Daneshvar, who is making mobility equipment for hospitals and the elderly, was on the cusp of major success with the help of a European investor until U.S. President Trump reimposed the sanctions



She fought through a male-dominated world to become perhaps Iran's first female manufacturing boss, and was on the cusp of major success with the help of a European investor. Until Donald Trump brought her crashing back to earth. When Leila Daneshvar was a little girl, she used to sit on the floor of her father's workshop, asking for small jobs.

"He was a mechanic, and I always had the most fun when I was in the garage with him," she told Agence France-Presse (AFP).

"But in those days, there were no mechanical careers in Iran, so I went to college in India. Even there, I was the only girl in my year of 139 students. I had a hard time."

But she persevered. Now 37, she runs her own company in Iran, making mobility equipment for hospitals and the elderly. The breakthrough for the company, called KTMA and selling under the brand "Lord," came in early 2016, just after Iran's nuclear deal with world powers came into force, lifting international sanctions. Within a couple of months, a Swedish investor, Anna Russberg, had agreed to buy 25 percent of the company, bringing much-needed business acumen and capital.

"Leila had a reputation for quality production, which was practically unknown here. But I needed to turn the business upside-down," said Anna.

"It worked. People could tell we were a good mix. We respect each other's knowledge. She's the engineer, I'm the businesswoman."

But then Trump happened. Even before he pulled the U.S. out of the nuclear deal, the American president's constant threats to reimpose sanctions had a chilling effect on trade. It soon became hard to import crucial raw materials, particularly stainless steel.

"We already had problems in getting raw materials... and now it's impossible. Either I have to close the factory, or have to continue with much higher prices," said Leila.

"We had to let four or five workers go last month because we couldn't pay their salaries, and it breaks my heart."

She watched Trump deliver his speech on May 8, reimposing sanctions on Iran, with a mix of horror and fury, particularly when he claimed to be on the side of the Iranian people against their government.

"That made me so angry. These sanctions are not on the government, it's on the people. I can give less to disabled people, to the elderly. Our saying was that we are providing European quality with affordable prices. Can I do that anymore? I don't know."

Anna remains defiantly positive.

"Iran has 10 million older or injured people who can use our product. With or without Trump, we still have a business," she said. But whether or not the business can survive the Trump administration's vow to "crush" the Iranian economy with sanctions, it is already clear that investors like Anna are no longer coming to Iran.

The dream of the nuclear deal – that hundreds of small businesses would blossom with European support, creating an important constituency supporting good relations with the West – was dead long before Trump finally yanked the U.S. out of the agreement.