For Gaza’s schoolchildren, another year of destruction, loss, and uncertainty
Makeshift schools in tent camps have served thousands of Palestinian children. But can they survive the approaching winter and Israel’s intensifying assaults?
Before the war, the joy and excitement at the start of each school year in Gaza were palpable: the buzz of markets filled with children buying their new uniforms and stationery, teachers preparing lessons and decorating their classrooms, and staff welcoming the students with songs and recreational activities on the first day of classes.
Now, nearly two months into the start of the academic year, young students from Gaza are mourning the loss not only of family members, friends, and their homes, but of their education as well.
Salma Wafi, a 14-year-old Palestinian girl from Gaza City — now displaced in the Al-Mawasi humanitarian zone — has been waiting for the war to end so that she can enter high school. “School was the most beautiful part in my life — I miss it every day,” she told +972. “Everywhere else [in the world] kids are back in school. Some of my teachers, friends and classmates whom I used to see all the time at school, were killed. I’ve lost my childhood during this war.”
For Farah Muqdad, 11, a year without school has deeply impacted her social life and sense of self. “My school was on Al-Jalaa Street in Gaza City, and I used to go there every day with my friends. [After school,] we would go to each other’s houses to study for exams.”
Farah lost her older brother Walid in March last year in Rafah and has been displaced several times with her family since the start of the war, now sheltering in Al-Mawasi. “School wasn’t just lessons or studying, it was a very different life. Now all of this is in the past: we face extremely difficult conditions, unable to buy food, so I must look for work to survive and help my family.”
Displaced Palestinian children study at a school that was bombed by Israeli warplanes in Khan Younis, southern Gaza Strip, October 9, 2024. (Abed Rahim Khatib/Flash90)
According to the UN, 87 percent of the school buildings in Gaza have been either partially or entirely destroyed by Israeli strikes, and some have been converted into Israeli military bases. The UN Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs (OCHA) reports that over 10,600 children and more than 400 teachers have been killed in Israeli military operations, while more than 15,300 students and 2,400 teachers have been injured.
Today, more than 625,000 deeply traumatized school-aged children in Gaza are being deprived of their right to an education — what 19 independent UN experts and rapporteurs described as part of “scholasticide,” a deliberate effort to destroy the Palestinian education system. Meanwhile, a new UN Relief and Works Agency (UNRWA) report warns that Israel’s ongoing aerial bombardment and ground invasion of Gaza could set back children and young people’s education by up to five years.
As Ahmed Ayesh Al-Najjar, director of public relations at the Education Ministry in Gaza, notes, the widespread and systematic destruction of educational infrastructure and the killing of thousands of students, teachers, and educational staff “has made it nearly impossible for the ministry to restore the educational process to its previous state.”
On Sept. 9, the Education Ministry in Ramallah launched an online platform to provide remote lessons for students in Gaza. Sadeq Khadour, the ministry’s spokesperson, told +972 that “around 200,000 students registered for the online classes. We consider this a big achievement because last year there was no teaching at all.”
But it is unclear how many students have been able to participate in such lessons, given the frequent internet and power outages across the Strip. For Maram Al-Farra, a 38-year-old mother of four, the idea of remote classes as a substitute for in-person education is unacceptable. “I feel that they [the ministry] think this war is simple or like previous wars. We lost our homes, and we live in a tent in Al-Mawasi. Using the internet in these circumstances is impossible.”
Displaced Palestinians inspect their tents, which were hit from an Israeli airstrike in the Al-Mawasi area, October 15, 2024. (Abed Rahim Khatib/Flash90)
Suha Al-Abdullah, a 40-year-old mother and teacher, also doubted the utility of this new initiative. “I cannot follow these lessons, and neither can my children, because we need the internet and more than one phone to use,” she explained. “These things are not just difficult but impossible. As a teacher, I cannot provide complete and useful information to my students except for in the [physical] classroom.”
Inside the tent schools, where ‘so many are eager to enroll’
With the Ministry unable to implement an effective plan for the school year, teachers in Gaza have been left to try to organize their own educational programs — and some have taken it upon themselves to set up makeshift schools in shelters and camps across the Strip.
“What do you want to be when you grow up?” This is how Du’aa Qadih, 25, begins her day’s English lessons with her students, who sit criss-cross on the floor. “A little girl tells me that she wants to be a doctor, to help her brother or her wounded mother, and another dreams of becoming an engineer or journalist. Every student of mine has a big dream for when the war stops.”
Qadih, a graduate of the English Language and Education Departments at the Islamic University in Gaza and a current Master’s student in translation at Al-Azhar University, was displaced from Shuja’iya at the start of the war and forced to relocate three times, before settling in a camp in Deir Al-Balah in May. It was upon her arrival in that camp that Qadih started to fear the war’s toll on the educational prospects of Gaza’s children.
“As a teacher, I realized the danger of forgoing education for more than 8 months, and the importance of continuing the educational process,” she recalled to +972. “Our students are the future generation, and rebuilding Gaza will only happen through knowledge and learning.” Qadih started a classroom in one tent, but today more than 550 students from first through 12th grade are participating in her program, and she and a team of volunteers have secured several tents.
Qadih admits that her work was never easy. “At first, I faced the terror of working with children who were exposed to loss and deprivation, who had grown up under bombs and airstrikes.” Many of these students had lost at least one family member, as well as former peers and teachers. Under these circumstances, she decided to begin by organizing simple social activities, and gradually return to education through play.
“Activities and competitions encourage children to focus and think,” Qadih explained. Before teaching the academic subjects, “I had to restore their confidence and put a smile on their faces.”
Du’aa Qadih with her students. (Courtesy)
Hala Za’rab, 9, who was displaced from Khan Younis, expressed her appreciation for Qadih’s classes. “Ms. Du’aa brought back to our minds what we used to study at our school which the occupation bombed at the beginning of the war. I miss every detail of it [school] from the time I wake up to the time I return home.”
Qadih, too, insisted that it is not just the students who have benefitted from her initiative. “I know very well that these children may not survive this war. But I try to instill hope in their hearts that they will one day become who they want to be,” she affirmed. “And their aspirations fill me with hope as well.”
For Muhammad Al-Khudari, a 38-year-old teacher from Rafah, what started in February as homeschooling for his three children has expanded into a community-wide effort to teach Arabic. Al-Khudari was expelled by the Israeli army from Al-Shifa Hospital in November 2023, after surviving a strike on his home in Shuja’iya. He and his family sought refuge in Rafah and were later forced to move to Deir Al-Balah. But with each displacement, he made sure to bring his educational materials with him. “My son asked me to let a friend in the neighboring tent study with us, and I then decided to teach the children in the camp what I teach my own children,” he explained to +972.
With his engaging methods of storytelling, making use of puppets and colorful illustrations, Al-Khudari’s Arabic language initiative has attracted a group of 60 students in Deir Al-Balah. While Muhammad focuses on teaching Arabic, a team of volunteers has joined him to teach other basic subjects. “We all agreed to provide whatever we can to help students follow up on their studies, especially in the primary school grades, as they need constant reinforcement to consolidate their previous knowledge.”
Even in the face of immense difficulties, including the lack of school chairs, books, notebooks, and ongoing Israeli bombardment, Al-Khudari intends to continue teaching. “Interacting with the children gives me hope for a better future,” he said. “It reminds me that we are a people who deserve life.”
Muhammad Al-Khudari with his students. (Courtesy)
One of the most remarkable educational programs is the Al-Awael School, established by Leila Wafi, a 42-year-old blind teacher and resident of Al-Mawasi who holds a PhD in Educational Sciences. “I noticed the impact the war had on the students’ skills and how they were forgetting the basics of their educational subjects,” she told +972.
On a sandy piece of land in Al-Mawasi, Wafi set up three classrooms made of tarps and plastic. Al-Awael operates in three daily shifts: one in the morning and two in the evening, with boys and girls separated into three-day periods for each group to reach as many students as possible. Although each classroom originally fit only 20 students, Wafi and her colleagues managed to expand them to accommodate around 74 students.
Now, a team of 80 volunteer instructors teach a full curriculum for the first through sixth grade levels. Wafi organized the schedules, secured the necessary stationary, and condensed educational materials for the teachers to streamline the teaching process in a way that matches the school’s actual capabilities.
“We have a waiting list of 500 students who want to join the school,” Wafi noted. “I ran the school as if it were a normal academic year, under normal circumstances. It included a full curriculum, homework, exams, certificates, a ceremony to honor outstanding students, and gifts.” It is for this reason, she said, that so many were eager to enroll.
A student in a classroom led by Amani Aby Raya. (Courtesy)
The mother of fifth-grader Iman Abu Asr, who was displaced from the Al-Nasr area west of Gaza City to Al-Mawasi, hopes that the Education Ministry will officially recognize the results of Leila’s program. “My daughter studied regularly at this school despite all the circumstances, and she was able to regain a lot of information. It was a dream for us for my daughter to join something like this during the war.”
A temporary reprieve
These tent schools — albeit scattered and informal — have been a critical lifeline for children, parents, and teachers themselves during the past year. Some worry, however, that they won’t be sustainable for much longer. For Suha Al-Abdullah, who has worked as a teacher in tents in Deir Al-Balah and Al-Mawasi, “the teaching tents are difficult [to begin with], and they’re not a permanent [solution]. We are approaching winter and no one will come to the lessons.”
She also criticized the Education Ministry for failing to coordinate with the teachers and program leaders to help them continue their work. “These are initiatives from us as teachers to save [future] generations,” she explained, “but the ministry has not communicated with any of us or supported them in order to develop a plan to allow the children to keep benefitting.”
Sadeq Khadour, the ministry’s spokesperson in Ramallah, told +972 that he is aware of the challenges students and their families face in Gaza, and affirmed that the ministry has been trying to aid private educational programs while expanding access to its own online platforms. “We are trying to find solutions for the students who do not have electronic devices. Our plan is comprehensive, and it includes supporting the private teaching initiatives on the ground.”
“Pioneers of Hope,” an educational initiative in a displacement camp in Deir Al-Balah. (Ruwaida Amer)
But as the Israeli assault intensifies throughout the Strip, and particularly in the north, there is only so much that the ministry and individual teachers can do. The number of students and teachers killed by Israeli forces, both in direct attacks and from indirect causes such as illness, hunger, and lack of access to necessary healthcare, continues to rise. Moreover, the constant displacement of Gazan families, many of whom have ended up far from their areas of residence, makes it difficult for the ministry to keep track of the number of students in each educational zone.
Before the Israeli army’s latest major offensive in northern Gaza, Amani Aby Raya, a 37-year-old teacher from Jabalia refugee camp and the director of a kindergarten that was destroyed by Israeli forces in the first week of the war, turned her kindergarten into a school for children aged 5 to 8. According to Aby Raya, the school served more than 350 children, who were divided into nine classes and received 10 hours of instruction per week.
“The place is not suitable, as children study without chairs, tables, or even toilets and sit on mats in a semi-standing prayer hall in high temperatures amid the spread of insects,” she explained. But “children, like the people of Gaza, have adapted to this harsh environment, and their desire for education pushes them to continue studying.”
More difficult than the education itself, Aby Raya said, is the effort to provide psychological relief and therapy for behavioral problems, as most of the students she and her colleagues have become homeless and lost parents, siblings, other relatives and classmates.
Through her initiative, Aby Raya hoped to “lift children out of the tragic educational and psychological reality that was imposed on them.” She and her colleagues “tried to triumph by raising the children’s voices and repeating the phrases of the lessons so that their collective voice is louder than the noise [of the drones] overhead.” But Aby Raya was forced to leave Jabalia last week, as Israel besieged the camp. She is now in Gaza City and all educational initiatives in the north have ceased.