Bourse and Bazaar | AFP: At an outreach centre in southern Tehran,�teenagers are learning to be journalists, while upstairs their mothers are�fine-tuning their sewing skills and rushing to fill an order for hospital�uniforms.

The brand-new centre in the working-class neighbourhood of Shahr-e Rey�caters to hundreds of struggling families and Afghan refugees.

It's a relatively new approach for Iran, where social welfare has often�been left to informal groups based around the bazaar and mosque or fallen to�large-scale government-controlled organizations.

Today, privately-run charities are emerging, with managers, targets and�buzzwords such as "empowerment" and "skills-training", and funded by wealthy�business people who have made fortunes in booming industries such as private�healthcare.

This centre is run by the ILIA Foundation, created by social workers and�members of the Nikan Hospital Group, who have partnered with UN refugee and�health agencies to help around 1,000 families from deprived backgrounds.

For now these groups can only reach a small number of those in need but�supporters say it is providing a model for future social work in Iran.

At one of the sewing machines is 27-year-old Somareh Ghazvani, a�second-generation refugee�one of around 3 million Afghans who have fled�decades of conflict across the border.

"It was a surprise to find this place. The conditions are much better than�other places I have worked, so I'm very happy," she said.

In the computer room, 16-year-old Masoumeh is working with InDesign and�Photoshop as part of her summer classes in journalism.

"Our families have really counted on this centre. If we go to classes�somewhere else, the fees are so high we can't afford it," she said.

Poverty Lines

One of the pioneers of the new approach to charity is the Imam Ali Popular�Students Relief Society, which was recognised by the UN in 2010 and has built�a network of 12,000 volunteers helping Iran's poorest children.

A recent football tournament it organized for street kids was a reminder of�Iran's diversity, as Azeris, Baluchis, Kurds and many others were thrown�together on the pitch in Tehran.

"The only choice for most of these kids in their neighborhoods is�violence, poverty and misery. We have tried to give them self-confidence�through sports to improve their lives," said Meysam Vahdei, head of sports for�the foundation.

Ten-year-old Obeidollah had travelled since 3:00 a.m. from one of Iran's�poorest cities�Sarbaz in southeastern Sistan-Baluchistan province�and,�inevitably, dreams of being the next Cristiano Ronaldo.

The foundation brought him to Tehran so he could participate in the�tournament in a sport he loves.

"Some charity workers came to our city square. They saw me do a backflip�and said 'Wow! What a boy', and now I'm here in Tehran playing football," he�said, excitedly.

Official data on poverty is hard to pin down in Iran.

The labour ministry said 800,000 households were eligible for government�support because they earned below the poverty line of seven million rials�(around USD 160) a month, according to a report in January by the Financial�Tribune.

The English-language newspaper cited prominent economist Hossein Raghfar as�saying some 12 million Iranians lived in absolute poverty, in a country with a�population of around 80 million.

Faced with mounting economic woes, President Hassan Rouhani has introduced�welfare cuts and other austerity measures since coming to power in 2013.

The government was already struggling to support the poor before the recent�return of US sanctions�after Washington withdrew from a 2015 nuclear deal�between Iran and world powers�which has sent prices soaring and threatens�to take a huge chunk out of the budget this year.

That has put more pressure on charities and private donors, and encouraged�the more modern approach to charity work.

'Breaking the Poverty Chain'

"We need to help these kids at an early stage of life to get them on the�right path and help break the chain of poverty in their families," said Reza�Taghdir, a doctor with the high-end Nikan hospital group and a director for�the ILIA Foundation.

It marks a change from the old ways of doing things, said one of ILIA's�promoters, who asked not to be named.

"In the past, some old guys would get near to death and start worrying�about the afterlife, so they would hand out a load of money to build something�in their name. It was really just about status and was not very organized," he�said.

"Now it's much more professional, the donors are younger and much more�concerned to find real solutions to problems in society."