The desks sit empty in the hollowed-out skeleton of what was once Gaza University’s main library. Through collapsed walls, the spring wind carries dust across abandoned textbooks—their pages permanently frozen mid-lesson. Nearby, 17-year-old Layla Jabari sets up an impromptu classroom under a makeshift tarp, teaching English to a group of younger children using a battered whiteboard salvaged from debris.
“We don’t have proper schools anymore, but education cannot wait for war to end,” she tells me, adjusting her hijab with one hand while writing conjugations with the other. “If we stop learning, they have truly defeated us.”
Eight months into the Israel-Hamas conflict, Gaza’s education system has collapsed. According to United Nations estimates, over 90% of school buildings have been damaged or destroyed, with many converted into shelters housing thousands of displaced families. The devastation represents one of the conflict’s least visible but potentially most lasting wounds—a generation of Palestinian children facing profound educational disruption that experts warn could take decades to overcome.
“We’re witnessing the systematic dismantling of educational infrastructure,” explains Dr. Nadia Abuleish, former dean of education at Al-Azhar University in Gaza, speaking to me via a spotty internet connection from a relative’s home in Khan Younis. “Before the war, we already struggled with resource limitations. Now we’re looking at a near-complete educational collapse.”
UNICEF reports that approximately 625,000 students in Gaza have had their education severely disrupted or halted entirely. The organization’s regional education coordinator Omar Mansour describes the situation as “unprecedented in its scale and intensity” among recent conflicts.
The destruction follows years of already strained educational resources. Gaza’s schools operated on double or triple shifts even before October 7, with teachers managing classrooms of up to 50 students with limited electricity, outdated materials, and restricted internet access. Now, even those basic foundations have crumbled.
In northern Gaza’s Jabalia refugee camp, I meet Ahmed Samir, a mathematics professor who now conducts geometry lessons sitting cross-legged on rubble. Seven teenagers surround him, using the back of a broken cabinet as a makeshift chalkboard.
“I tell my students that mathematics gives us certainty in an uncertain world,” Samir says, drawing a perfect circle with a piece of charcoal. “The properties of a triangle remain true even when everything around us falls apart.”
The educational crisis extends beyond physical destruction. Psychological trauma profoundly affects learning. Dr. Hassan Zeyada of the Gaza Community Mental Health Programme explains that prolonged exposure to violence creates cognitive difficulties for children attempting to learn.
“Children experiencing ongoing trauma develop heightened stress responses that interfere with concentration, memory retention, and critical thinking,” Zeyada notes. “Many exhibit symptoms consistent with PTSD, which directly impacts their ability to process new information.”
The war has created cascading educational challenges. Beyond destroyed classrooms, textbooks and educational materials are critically scarce. Digital learning alternatives—increasingly common in conflict zones—remain largely inaccessible with Gaza’s devastated electrical grid and limited internet connectivity. Most families prioritize finding food, water, and shelter over educational materials.
Yet amid this devastation, remarkable grassroots educational initiatives have emerged. Informal learning networks have sprouted across displacement camps. Teachers volunteer in shifts, holding classes wherever space allows—under trees, in partially standing buildings, or within tent settlements. Parents with specialized knowledge offer lessons in mathematics, languages, or science.
“We call it ‘education of necessity,'” explains Fatima al-Najjar, a former elementary school principal who now coordinates volunteer teaching at a displacement camp in Deir al-Balah. “We’ve reverted to the most basic forms of teaching—oral instruction, memorization, peer learning—methods from another century, but they help maintain some educational continuity.”
International education experts worry about long-term consequences. The World Bank estimates that each year of education lost represents approximately 10% in lifetime earnings potential. Beyond economic impacts, education disruption often correlates with increased vulnerability to radicalization, exploitation, and displacement.
“When we fail to protect education during conflict, we’re not just destroying buildings—we’re destroying futures,” says Dr. Kevin Watkins, former CEO of Save the Children. “Educational collapse in Gaza risks creating a lost generation, with implications extending far beyond this current conflict.”
Israeli officials maintain that Hamas has militarized educational facilities, using schools and universities as command centers and weapons storage facilities—claims that Hamas denies and that the UN has been unable to independently verify across all sites. Meanwhile, humanitarian organizations emphasize that regardless of military considerations, children’s right to education remains protected under international humanitarian law.
The UN Security Council Resolution 2601 specifically condemns attacks against schools and children. Yet accountability mechanisms have proven largely ineffective in protecting Gaza’s educational infrastructure.
Back at Layla’s impromptu school, a suspicious sound sends children ducking for cover—a survival reflex now deeply ingrained. After determining it was just falling debris, the lesson cautiously resumes.
“We teach them English, mathematics, and science,” Layla tells me, “but also how to recognize warning sounds, where to find shelter, how to administer basic first aid. This is education in Gaza now.”
As darkness approaches and families retreat to crowded shelters, Layla carefully packs her salvaged educational materials into a plastic bag. Tomorrow, weather and warfare permitting, class will resume.
“Sometimes parents ask why we bother teaching algebra or grammar when children are dying,” she says, erasing the day’s lessons from her small whiteboard. “I tell them education is how we resist. When children read, write, and calculate, they’re claiming their future. That’s something even bombs cannot destroy.”
