Gaza's Children Return to Makeshift Classrooms After Two Years Without School

The sounds of learning have returned to Gaza City, but the classrooms are tents, the curriculum is basic, and nearly every child carries the weight of war trauma.

After two years without formal education, children in Gaza are streaming back to school following the Israel-Hamas ceasefire in October. At what remains of the Lulwa Abdel Wahab al-Qatami School in the Tel al-Hawa neighborhood, pupils gather in temporary tent structures erected among the ruins of a building destroyed by Israeli bombardment in January 2024. For many of Gaza's 658,000 school-aged children, this represents their first taste of educational routine since the conflict began.

Walking in orderly lines with their small hands resting on each other's shoulders, children smile as they enter makeshift classrooms where teachers point to boards covered with English letters and Arabic words. The atmosphere buzzes with noise and energy—chaotic but unmistakably alive with the spirit of learning.

The scene offers a stark contrast to the devastation surrounding it. According to UNICEF, more than 97% of schools in Gaza were damaged or destroyed during the war. The Israeli Defense Forces have repeatedly claimed Hamas uses civilian infrastructure including schools for military operations, though solid evidence for such assertions remains rare.

What was once a proper school building now serves as the foundation for tent-based education. For months after its destruction, the grounds sheltered displaced families. Today, it has transformed back into a place of learning, however basic.

Fourteen-year-old Naeem al-Asmaar attended this school before Israeli strikes reduced it to rubble. During the war, he lost his mother in an airstrike—an experience he describes quietly as "the hardest thing I've ever been through."

Though displaced for months, Naeem's home in Gaza City survived the bombardment. After the ceasefire, he returned with his family and eagerly rejoined his classmates.

"I missed being in school a lot," Naeem shared, acknowledging the dramatic changes. "Before the war, school was in real classrooms. Now it's tents. We only study four subjects. There isn't enough space. The education is not the same—but being here matters. School fills all my time and I really needed that."

Rital Alaa Harb, a ninth-grade student with dreams of becoming a dentist, echoed similar sentiments. "Displacement affected my education completely," she explained. "There was no time to study. No schools. I missed my friends so much—and I miss my old school."

The makeshift school, run by UNICEF, brings together children from the original Lulwa school and others displaced by the conflict. Unlike before the war, students no longer receive the full Palestinian curriculum.

Education has been reduced to the basics: Arabic, English, mathematics, and science. Gone are the science laboratories, computer facilities, internet access, and the comprehensive educational resources that once defined Gaza's school system.

Dr. Mohammed Saeed Schheiber, who has worked in education for 24 years, took over management of the site in mid-November. "We started with determination to compensate students for what they lost," he stated.

The school currently serves 1,100 boys and girls operating in three shifts daily, with boys and girls attending on alternating days. Just 24 teachers manage this student population—a ratio that highlights the resource constraints facing Gaza's education sector.

Beyond the physical destruction, psychological trauma presents perhaps the greatest challenge. Dr. Schheiber revealed that more than 100 students at the school lost one or both parents, had their homes destroyed, or witnessed killings during the war.

In truth, every single student has been affected either directly or indirectly by the conflict. A counselor now conducts psychological support sessions, attempting to help children process the horrors they've endured. But the demand for mental health support far exceeds available capacity.

The school operates without electricity or internet. Basic supplies remain scarce or prohibitively expensive. "We have more than a thousand students here already, but only six classrooms per shift," Dr. Schheiber explained. "There is a large displacement camp next to the school—families from northern and eastern Gaza. Many children want to enroll. We simply cannot take them."

For parents, the return to school brings both relief and anxiety. Huda Bassam al-Dasouki, a mother of five displaced from southern Rimal, described education as an overwhelming challenge even as schools reopen.

"It's not that education doesn't exist. It's that it's extremely difficult," she said, noting that even before the war, schools struggled with shortages.

The economics alone present staggering obstacles. "A notebook that cost one shekel before the war now costs five," she explained. "I have five children."

Some children have fallen four years behind in their education, including time lost during the COVID-19 pandemic. "My son can't read. He can't write. He doesn't know how to copy from the board," al-Dasouki shared, her frustration evident.

UNICEF officials say restrictions on aid supplies entering Gaza worsen the educational crisis. Jonathan Crickx, a UNICEF spokesman, outlined what's missing while standing outside one of the school tents.

"Paper, notebooks, pens, erasers, rulers—we've been asking for a long time that these supplies can enter the Gaza Strip and they haven't been allowed in," he stated. "It's the same for mental health and psychosocial recreative kits—toy kits that can be used to do mental health activities and recreational activities with the children."

Israeli officials did not respond to BBC questions about aid restrictions. Israel maintains it is meeting its obligations under the ceasefire agreement with Hamas and facilitating increased aid deliveries. The United Nations and multiple aid agencies dispute this claim, accusing Israel of continuing to restrict access to essential supplies.

Despite ongoing Israeli bombardment—which continues almost daily in response to what Israel describes as Hamas violations of the ceasefire—children keep coming to school. Their determination speaks volumes about the value Palestinians place on education.

Kholoud Habib, a teacher at the school, captured this sentiment powerfully. "Education is our foundation. As Palestinians, it is our capital," she declared.

"We lose homes. We lose money. We lose everything. But knowledge—knowledge is the one investment we can still give our children."

These tent classrooms represent more than just a return to education. They offer something increasingly rare in Gaza: a fragile glimpse of the childhoods that war stole from an entire generation.

As teachers write on makeshift boards and children recite lessons in crowded tents, normalcy remains distant. But for students like Naeem and Rital, and for the hundreds of thousands of Gaza's children, this imperfect beginning offers something invaluable—hope that despite everything lost, learning continues.

The question now is whether the international community will ensure these children receive the resources, support, and sustained peace they need to build on this fragile foundation. For Gaza's youngest generation, the answer will determine not just their educational futures but the prospects for rebuilding an entire society. DISCLAIMER: This article is for informational purposes only. Views expressed are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the official position of The Source News Ghana. Report errors: markossourcegroup@gmail.com