A Palestinian researcher from Gaza, specializing in English literature and translation. Despite war, displacement, and the destruction of her university, she continues her academic journey under siege, refusing to let her voice or her dreams be silenced. X: @GhadaRozzi
For nearly two years, Gaza has endured relentless genocide, leaving every aspect of life in ruins, including the most fundamental pillar of any society: education. Israel has systematically targeted schools, universities, libraries, training centers and cultural institutions. What once served as vibrant spaces for learning, community building and hope has been reduced to rubble. Yet, in the heart of this devastation, Palestinians in Gaza attempt to rebuild their education system with determination—albeit with little else.
Before the war, Gaza's education sector struggled for years under Israel's blockade, economic collapse and repeated cycles of Israeli bombardment. Still, its educational institutions and high literacy rates remained remarkably resilient despite these difficult circumstances, with its universities producing generations of doctors, engineers, writers and researchers. In a place where Israel's occupation closes borders and restricts mobility, education has long served as the primary path for Palestinians to create opportunities and re-imagine their future.
That is precisely why its deliberate destruction is so devastating and carries such profound political significance.
Against every conceivable obstacle, Gaza's education system has begun to revive itself—not because conditions allow it, but because teachers, parents and students refuse to surrender their right to learn.
- Ghada Alrozzi
After two years of continuous attacks, nearly all educational institutions in Gaza have sustained some level of damage due to Israel's assault. Many were flattened entirely, while others have been partially burned out or have collapsed. Those still standing no longer function as schools. Instead, they have become overcrowded shelters for displaced families who lost everything—including homes, belongings and loved ones. Classrooms once filled with lessons in math and literature now hold dozens of families sleeping on the floor, sharing the last remnants of safety for the hundreds of thousands still displaced.
Yet, against every conceivable obstacle, Gaza's education system has begun to revive itself—not because conditions allow it, but because teachers, parents and students refuse to surrender their right to learn. In a place where Israel has violently stolen the future, education becomes an act of resistance.
Today, children in Gaza attend makeshift classes without books, desks or basic school supplies. Stationery, once taken for granted, is now so expensive that many families cannot afford a single notebook. Teachers tear cardboard boxes into small pieces to create improvised writing surfaces. Parents cut old bags and clothing into shapes for children to practice their letters. When textbooks are unavailable, teachers rewrite lessons by hand and distribute them on small scraps of paper.
With schools destroyed, a growing number of teachers have launched grassroots educational initiatives across displaced communities. They set up tents as temporary learning spaces, placing students on the bare sand without chairs or mats. Some lessons take place between the ruins of demolished buildings, where a patch of shade becomes a classroom and a wooden plank becomes a blackboard. Chalk, markers and teaching aids are often borrowed or bartered.
The learning environment is fragile and improvised, yet driven by a fierce determination to maintain a sense of normalcy for children who have lost everything.
For the children of Gaza, returning to any form of learning offers a fragile sense of stability.
- Ghada Alrozzi
These teachers, exhausted, displaced and grieving, have become the backbone of Gaza's educational recovery. Many have also experienced loss, including their homes, family members and colleagues. Some teach while living in the same tents as their students. Still, they continue because they know that without education, an entire generation risks erasure—not only physically, but intellectually and socially. Their work is not simply academic, but rather psychological, emotional and profoundly humanitarian.
For the children of Gaza, returning to any form of learning offers a fragile sense of stability. School is no longer merely a place for academic knowledge: It is a refuge from trauma, a distraction from hunger and a reminder of the world they once knew. Many students say that holding a pencil, listening to a story or singing a classroom song among their peers helps to cope—even briefly—with the horrors surrounding them every day.
Still, the challenges are immeasurable. With winter approaching, tent classrooms flood with rainwater. Extreme summer heat previously made them nearly uninhabitable. Electricity shortages make it nearly impossible to print materials or charge educational devices. Mental health support is extremely limited, as thousands of children suffer from trauma-related symptoms that affect concentration, memory and social interaction.
Yet despite these obstacles, Gaza's educators remain determined to continue amid Israel's genocide of the Palestinian people. Parents mobilize to repair torn tents, collect scraps of wood or repurpose aid materials into teaching tools. Older students volunteer to assist younger ones. Communities form rotating study groups so no child is left behind, even when families cannot afford basic supplies.
As one exhausted teacher exclaimed, standing beside the tent that now serves as her classroom: "We have nothing left—not walls, not books, not electricity. But we still have our children, and we owe them the chance to learn. Teaching them is the only way we remind ourselves that life here hasn't stopped." This human determination, born out of loss and defiance, keeps education alive in Gaza—even in the bleakest conditions.
What is unfolding in Gaza today is not merely an attempt to keep education alive. It is a profound act of collective resilience. It is a reminder to the world that Palestinians are not passive victims but active builders of their future, even under the harshest conditions. Education has become a battlefield of its own, where survival depends not on weapons, but on persistence, knowledge and solidarity.
The international community must confront the full scale of devastation inflicted on Gaza's education sector and act decisively to support its reconstruction, not only as a humanitarian necessity, but as a matter of justice and international responsibility. International organizations have repeatedly warned that Gaza's educational system is on the brink of collapse. According to a joint assessment by the U.N. Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization (UNESCO) and the Palestinian Ministry of Higher Education, 95% of higher education institutions and 97% of schools in general across Gaza have been damaged, with many campuses and laboratories completely destroyed.
Rebuilding schools and universities, therefore, is not merely a matter of reconstructing infrastructure. It is a process of restoring dignity, safeguarding opportunity and defending the fundamental human right to education. Supporting Gaza's educational recovery is not optional—it is a legal and moral obligation the world can no longer ignore.
In Gaza, every notebook is a triumph. Every makeshift lesson is an act of hope. Every tent classroom is a declaration that the future still matters. In a world that has allowed so much to be destroyed, Palestinians in Gaza continue to teach us one unshakable truth: Even amid genocide, learning is a form of freedom.
The views and positions expressed in this article are those of the author(s) and do not necessarily reflect the views of DAWN.
