The Electronic Intifada 10 January 2025
Children are being denied the right to basic learning.
APA imagesEducation in Gaza has become a distant dream for Gaza’s children amid the constant bombing.
Most families in Gaza have been displaced due to Israel’s genocidal war, and a huge number of schools have been destroyed or badly damaged, leaving more than 625,000 students out in the educational cold.
Schools, once a safe haven, have become dangerous places or shelters for displaced families, further complicating the situation. All schools in Gaza have remained closed, preventing students from attending classes. In response to the destruction, some communities have established informal learning centers. For instance, in the southern city of Khan Younis children are attending makeshift classes in a 200-year-old cemetery due to the lack of functional school buildings. I work as a teacher in a tent assembled at a school run by the UN agency for Palestine refugees (UNRWA) in al-Zuwaida, central Gaza.
Witnessing death
UNICEF has reported that 45 percent of Gaza’s children who witnessed death with their own eyes suffer from severe psychological trauma and disorders, making it difficult for them to concentrate or benefit from the educational process.
Children have not only lost essential knowledge but also the social support provided by schools.
Parents fear that this situation will worsen, leaving an entire generation unable to grasp fundamental skills in mathematics, reading and writing in their native language.
As a mother of two children, I was determined to send them to school despite the daily risks.
Bombings have often occurred near their classrooms. Despite the fear and uncertainty, I prioritized their education, believing it their only hope for a brighter future.
Each day, one question lingered in my mind: Will they come back alive?
Often, they went to school – when there was still a school to go to – without food, water or money and had to stand in long lines barefoot to get notebooks, pencils and pens. Their shoes are no longer wearable, and there is no store operating from which to buy new ones,
With the continuation of the Israeli siege and genocide, there are no longer places that sell shoes. When these resources were unavailable, the children had to adapt to learning without them.
Lice and skin infections are rampant. Many children at the school lacked proper clothing, often enduring cold weather in tattered garments.
As a teacher, I set up a tent to teach instead of using the classrooms overcrowded with displaced families. But when it rained, our tent turned into a muddy swamp, worsening the already dire situation.
Other teachers faced significant challenges, such as losing their homes and jobs or having salaries delayed.
Bringing joy into scarred lives
This chaos inspired me to create a way to bring joy to the children and alleviate their despair at least a little – a humble project of making colored clay, a favorite for children.
I gathered the necessary materials and began producing my first batches of clay, selling them at a low price to anyone but the children I teach. It quickly became an unexpected source of income.
When I saw how it brought joy to the children, I expanded the project, producing larger quantities and bringing smiles to more families. However, I preferred to distribute the clay to the children I taught for free, rewarding them for their effort and perseverance.
I also tried to ease their psychological trauma by painting their faces with colors and organizing small activities to uplift their spirits.
Other times, I let them play to strengthen their relationships with each other.
Their laughter was a balm for the wounds left by the Israeli genocide – a temporary escape from their harsh reality.
Some children shaped doves with the clay, wishing for peace.
Some made airplanes, saying they would use them to fight our enemies.
Some crafted pizza slices and other food.
I still remember the moment when a boy named Adam shaped a house out of clay. When I asked him why he chose to do that, he replied sorrowfully, “I’m rebuilding my destroyed house.”
I felt deep sadness for him and wished the house he made was real. The simplest wish of this child is to have a home that shelters him and protects him from the bombings.
Is that too much to ask?
One day, I encountered a child who seemed to be about 10 sitting near the edge of his tent holding a Quran and reciting it. I approached him and asked about his school.
He replied that he hadn’t been able to continue his education since the start of the Israeli aggression but chose to learn the Quran instead.
Determined to learn and share
This child made me realize the urgent need for education for our children. Even in the absence of classes, he was determined to find something to read and learn.
This experience encouraged me to come up with more ideas for the children of Gaza, especially those deprived of classroom education. Through simple projects such as making clay, we find moments of joy and valuable interaction, proving that even in the darkest times, hope can take shape in the hands of our children. I still struggle with teaching in the tent, which gets wet every time it rains and water leaks from it, distracting the students from the lessons.. As for the future of teaching, it is still unknown, as my job depends on the continuation of UNRWA and its support for Gaza. If UNRWA is unable to function, many teachers like me could lose their jobs, and that is why we are constantly worried. I also constantly think about the children who lost their families. Who will educate them?
How will this generation move forward without access to basic learning?
Sumaya Mohammed is a teacher and writer from Gaza.
