‘The hardest loss is education’: Gaza’s children tell their stories
11 Min Read
With nearly all schools in Gaza destroyed, Palestinian children share haunting memories, deep losses, and their unwavering hope to learn.
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A destroyed classroom by Israeli airstrikes in an UNRWA school in the central al-Nuseirat area (UNRWA, 2024)
With nearly 97% of Gaza’s schools destroyed or damaged in the aftermath of the Israeli genocide, some 600,000 Palestinian children are now entering their third year without formal education. Three students and a teacher shared their experiences with The Guardian, reflecting both the losses they have endured and their hopes for the future.
Twelve-year-old Juwayriya Adwan from al-Mawasi, Khan Younis, hasn’t seen the inside of a real classroom in two years. Speaking to The Guardian, she shared how she longs for the simple routine of school life.
“Two years since I heard the morning bell at Khawla Bint al-Azwar school, sat at my desk and raised my hand during my favorite class,” she recalled.
Though the chalk dust, pencil shavings, and echoes of laughter remain vivid in her memory, her school no longer stands.
“It was bombed by the Israelis soon after the war began,” she said. “My books were burned, and some of my friends killed.”
'Treasures from a lost world'
Juwayriya remembers 7 October, the last day she attended school, as if it were yesterday. “I was in fifth grade… That morning, air raid sirens screamed through the corridors. Some children cried, others held hands tightly. Our teacher tried to calm us, but even her voice trembled.”
What she hoped would be a normal day of learning and play quickly turned into a traumatic turning point. “I remember wishing for a normal day; lessons, recess, a poem recital. Instead, that day became the last page of my old life.”
Now Juwayriya lives in a crowded shelter with her parents, two brothers, and a sister. “The tent walls flap in the wind, keeping neither cold nor heat away. We queue for water and food. Electricity is a dream, and privacy doesn’t exist. Hope feels fragile.”
At night, she looks up at the stars and wonders if her friends see the same sky. “Some message me when they can, saying they miss school and have kept their old notebooks; like treasures from a lost world. I feel guilty because I’ve lost all of mine.”
'The hardest loss of all is education'
Once dreaming of becoming a teacher, Juwayriya now aspires to be a journalist. “I want to tell our stories of fear and hunger, but also courage. Because even here, amid death and ruins, our voices refuse to be silent.”
When she manages to study, it is often online or in small tents where volunteers teach. “The lessons are short, the power fails, or the airstrikes begin again, but in those moments, I feel alive. I remember who I was: the girl who loved numbers and poems, who believed learning could change the world.”
She mourns the broader losses, saying, “The war has taken so much; our homes, schools, and families. I lost my uncle, his wife, and their children. I lost my beautiful city, Rafah, which is nothing but rubble now. But the hardest loss of all is education, because that is the loss of the future itself.”
Juwayriya’s message to the world is clear: “Don’t let our dreams die. We don’t want pity, we want action. Gaza’s children deserve books, schools and safety. Education is not a luxury, it is a basic right. Gaza is not only destruction; it is children who still dream beneath the drones at night. It is my story and I will continue writing, even if all I have left is a broken pencil and a piece of torn paper.”
'Education has become an act of defiance'
40-year-old Palestinian teacher Naglaa Weshah has been teaching in Gaza for over a decade, working in Khan Younis, Deir al-Balah, and now al-Bureij camp. “Before the war started, I used to teach six classes of about 40 students each, nearly 240 young minds eager to learn.”
She recalls the joy of teaching, “Teaching them was my purpose and joy in life, and I still remember the sparkle in a student’s eyes when a new idea clicked; the kind of moment every teacher lives for.”
Naglaa’s classroom was lively and interactive. “I always believed learning should be full of life. My classroom was a space of play, art, and movement. We painted maps, acted out historical events, and turned lessons into stories. Laughter always filled the room as curiosity replaced fear. Yes, even before the war, children in Gaza were always scared. My classroom was a place of safety but after 7 October, everything changed.”
Her school became a shelter for families fleeing bombs and was soon destroyed. “There are hardly any schools left standing in Gaza now. For two years, nothing has been normal. The war has shattered every part of our lives: safety, homes, schools, dreams. Fear and grief are constant companions.”
Many of her former students have been killed, while those who remain face hunger, displacement, and exhaustion. “Sometimes, when the internet allows, I hear from a few of them. They message asking, ‘Are you OK, teacher?’ We share brief words, short lessons, tiny sparks of connection amid the chaos. They ask if things will ever go back to normal. I tell them I don’t know.”
Teaching continues wherever possible
Across Gaza, teaching continues wherever possible, in tents, damaged classrooms, or crowded shelters. “Education has become an act of defiance, a way to say: ‘We are still here.’ And so long as we continue learning, we will remain.”
Naglaa also sees the impact on her own children. “Their days are spent queueing for water, searching for food, or collecting firewood. Their childhoods have been replaced by survival. I remind them, as I remind my students, that knowledge is strength – and that one day, they will return to their classrooms.”
She holds onto hope, saying, “Through unimaginable loss, I still believe in the power of learning. I dream of a day when schools in Gaza will once again be filled with laughter, when lessons will not be interrupted by bombing, and when every child can think about the future again. Until that day comes, I will keep teaching in whatever capacity I can—through fear, through rubble and through darkness—because education is the only hope we have.”
'Too young to be a survivor of genocide'
“I was seven when the war began. That morning on 7 October, I was sitting in my classroom, learning maths. I remember holding my pencil tightly when the first explosion shook the school. My heart felt like it stopped,” 9-year-old Palestinian child Sarah al-Sharif from Gaza City told The Guardian.
Her school and home were both destroyed. “The Israeli army surrounded it, attacked the people sheltering inside, and destroyed it completely. My home was also bombed – all these places are nothing but ashes now.”
She mourns the childhood she lost. “I used to love numbers, science, and poetry, but my mind feels tired all the time, and it’s hard to concentrate. Sometimes I stare at my old school books, tracing the letters I wrote long ago. Now, people use schoolbooks to light fires for cooking and to keep warm.”
Attempting to study online is difficult. “I try to study online when the electricity and internet work, but it’s almost impossible.”
Normalcy, far-fetched option
Sarah longs for normalcy. “I miss feeling normal. I miss being a child and a student. I am too young to be a survivor of genocide; if I die, that is not how I want to be remembered. I want to be remembered for my dreams. I wished to become a doctor, to heal people and to give them hope. But without school, that dream feels impossible,” she said.
“The war has built so many walls inside my mind. Two months ago, I stopped studying completely because of the heavy bombing. It feels like time is frozen, like what’s left of my childhood is being stolen," Sarah lamented.
She appeals to the world, saying, “I wish the world could see us, the children of Gaza, not as numbers on the news, but as kids who just want to learn, to play, and to live. We deserve to dream like children anywhere else. A Palestinian poet once said: ‘We are a people who love life as much as we can.’ I just wish life would love us back.”
'I saw my friend Ezzo’s body scattered in the street'
Seven-year-old Palestinian child Ismail, who is now in Egypt, remembers kindergarten in Gaza with fondness. “I still remember my kindergarten in Gaza, with its bright, colorful walls, boxes of toys, and a reading corner with so many books. My teacher was very kind and always helped me when I didn’t understand something. I loved going there every day because I got to play and learn with my friends.”
The war changed everything. “Then the war started, and school ended. The sounds of explosions filled the air. Our home in al-Maghazi was bombed, and we had to flee. My parents left everything behind: our toys, our clothes, even my favorite crayons. As we ran, I saw my friend Ezzo’s body scattered in the street. He was a few years younger than me.”
Life remained unstable. “Mama said we are moving to Deir al-Balah to stay safe, but the sky was never quiet there either. Without school, there was nothing left for me to do. Slowly, I started forgetting things – words, numbers, even how to spell my name neatly. It made me sad and angry. I missed my friends, my teacher, and learning new things.”
Eventually, his family was forced to head to Egypt. “When we finally found a place to stay, life felt safer but not easier. We have been in Egypt for over a year, but I still haven’t been able to return to school. My sister Sarah is now big enough, but even she can’t go.”
Despite the ongoing tragic situation at all levels, UNRWA reported that about 300,000 Palestinian students will resume classes in Gaza on Saturday, although "Israel’s" blockade continues to prevent hundreds of millions of dollars in aid from entering the enclave.
In televised remarks published through X, Adnan Abu Hasna, UNRWA’s media advisor, wrote that the agency has “put plans in place to resume the educational process for 300,000 Palestinian students in UNRWA and this number is likely to increase."
Among the range of deprivation & trauma, children in #Gaza have been denied education with utter brutality.
— UNRWA (@UNRWA) October 19, 2025
Resuming education will bring hope, healing, and continuity amid destruction.
To bring children across the Gaza Strip back on the path to learning is our priority.… pic.twitter.com/arX0hFI4bw
He said around 10,000 students will attend in-person classes in schools and shelters, while the vast majority will receive remote instruction because “it is absolutely impossible to have two years without schooling, preceded by two years of Corona.”
Abu Hasna said 8,000 teachers will take part in the program.
Figures depict grim reality
According to data from the Palestinian Education Ministry, as of Sept. 16, "Israel" had destroyed 172 government schools, bombed or damaged 118 others, and struck more than 100 UNRWA-run schools.
The Ministry said 17,711 students have been killed in Gaza since the start of the genocide and 25,897 injured. It also reported the deaths of 763 education-sector employees and injuries to 3,189 others.
“We also have a plan in the health sector to revitalize 22 central clinics in the Gaza Strip,” he said. “We have dozens of food-distribution points and thousands of employees with great logistical experience.”
Abbu Hasna added that UNRWA had already purchased supplies worth hundreds of millions of dollars that remain stuck outside Gaza.
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