SPECIAL REPORT

The teachers and pupils fighting to learn amid ongoing Gaza genocide

From Ahmed Al-Yazjim
From Ahmed Al-Yazjim
This article is brought to you by our exclusive subscriber partnership with our sister title USA Today, and has been written by our American colleagues. It does not necessarily reflect the view of The Herald.

FOR children in Gaza, going to school has become a struggle shaped by displacement, destroyed buildings and shortages of even the most basic supplies.

Teachers work without classrooms, students study without books and families struggle to afford stationery. As schools reopen wherever space allows, education continues under conditions far removed from what children knew before the genocide, leaving teachers and students trying to preserve a sense of normality amid uncertainty.

Mohammed Abu Al-Aoun, 57, is part of a five-member family and holds a bachelor’s degree in ­electrical engineering. He has been in the ­printing field for 27 years.

“After I graduated, I couldn’t find a suitable job so I established Al-Awael printing shop in 1999,” ­Al-Aoun said.

READ MORE: Glasgow council leader confronted over city's buses as he commits to talks

Before the genocide, the printing shop provided Al-Aoun with a good income, as all the materials were available and affordable. “A ­cartoon of A4 paper used to cost $25, four ­litres of ink used to cost $45, and spare parts were available,” ­Al-Aoun said.

Al-Aoun used to import his own ­materials from Germany and ­China, but since the Israeli occupation ­besieged Gaza in 2007, he stopped importing.

Al-Aoun evacuated three times since the beginning of the genocide, and during his displacement, he didn’t work.

“When I returned home during the first ceasefire, which was announced in January 2025, I found most of the machines were gone,” Al-Aoun ­added. “With the help of my son Yehya, I reopened the shop, starting with one printer, trying to keep things going.

SOS Children’s Villages school in Gaza (Image: SOS school SOS Children’s Villages UK)

“My printer works so slowly to ­produce anything of reasonable quality, because the printheads wear out. Spare parts are nonexistent – for example, printheads that once cost $30 before the genocide, if found, would cost $700,” Al-Aoun said.

“A carton of paper costs around $50, and that is after a truck of A4 ­paper entered Gaza in June 2026 which decreased the price from $600,” Al-Aoun added. “Four litres of ink would cost $5000 and that’s if it could be found at all.

“When I tell a student that a coloured page costs one shekel, they would leave, thinking I am abusing them,” Al-Aoun said. “I have my own children to support.

READ MORE: SNP urge Lib Dems to ‘work together’ in push to rejoin EU

“To avoid embarrassment and ­misunderstanding, I tell people ­before I start how much what they need is going to cost.”

Before the genocide, a design and print would cost around $4 but today, it costs more than $30. Al-Aoun explained: “The material itself isn’t available.”

Al-Aoun will continue in the ­printing field as much as he can. “We have a little amount of ink left, and if it runs out, we’ll have to close as it is difficult and expensive to obtain it,” he said.

Mohammed’s experience shows how the collapse of supply chains has turned printing from an affordable service into a luxury. For teachers, the loss of affordable printing and ­basic school supplies has made teaching increasingly difficult.

Rula Anwar Subeih, 24, who holds a bachelor’s degree in basic education from Al-Aqsa University, is a teacher at Al-Kawther School, which was established during the genocide in 2025.

Subeih, who lives on Al-Sahaba Street, east of Gaza City, said: “I ­evacuated four times in Gaza City before evacuating to Khanyonis in southern Gaza.”

During the genocide, Subeih’s belief in education grew larger. “I worked in schools, teaching students from grade one to four, because I love being close to children, teaching and playing with them,” she said. “Before being their teacher, I like being a mother to all of them.

“Instead of classrooms and school buildings, children are now ­studying in tents,” she added. “Before the genocide, schools were affordable to everyone and cost zero, but now ­education has become paid.

“Children lack stationery and books needed for their educational journey, as stationery prices skyrocketed.

“I have to be careful while teaching children because I once asked my students to write the homework with their moms, and a student responded to me that his mom was martyred.

“This affected me a lot as a teacher, but I believe it affected the students too.”

For Subeih, the e-learning system isn’t suitable for young children. “Most people did not have internet access, electricity or phones, and ­obtaining those would cost a ­fortune,” she said. “Many students did not study during online education.

Palestinians inspect destroyed buildings at the site of an Israeli airstrike, at al-Maghazi refugee camp, central Gaza StripIsraeli airstrikes have destroyed much of Gaza (Image: AP Photo/Abdel Kareem Hana)

“Children’s psychological states are very intense, especially those who lost family members,” she continued. “The school organised several recreational events, educational games, and we even brought in clowns several times, trying to get them out of that psychological state.

“When I ask a student about their suffering, they would say that they hate life.

“During summer, students would be filled with sweat, unable to absorb their lessons.

“Instead of focusing on the lesson, children focus on the heat.

“I wish the world would provide more help to the fields of education and health, especially for children.”

For children, displacement, the loss of family members and the lack of electricity and internet access have created additional challenges that school principals have had to address while trying to keep their schools open.

READ MORE: Ed Sheeran to face pro-Palestine protest amid Macklemore row as ticket prices plummet

Mai Akram Al-Khudari, who lives in the Al-Nasser neighbourhood, holds a bachelor’s degree in Language and Islamic Studies from Al-Azhar University in Cairo.

“I ­graduated in 1983 and have been a school ­principal since 1997,” Al-Khudari said.

“I ­established Al-Majd private school located in Al-Nasser Street near Al-Shifa Hospital in 2007.

“I couldn’t work during my ­displacement in southern Gaza as I was psychologically exhausted because I lost my home.

“When I returned to Gaza in January 2025, everything was destroyed.

“There were displaced people ­inside the school, so I asked them to find an alternative shelter so the ­children could learn.

“To reopen the school, I bought ­materials from anywhere as there were no tools available,” she added.

“While schools now only teach the core subjects, I added another subject called Behaviours to teach children how to behave.

“I had to cancel the computer studies subject as no computers were available in the Strip.

READ MORE: US handed ‘permanent control’ over Greenland security after months of threats

“Before the genocide, students had custom uniforms – uniforms for sports, summer and winter,” she explained. “Now children come in whatever clothes they have at home.

“As the number of schools functioning in Gaza decreased, the student numbers increased from 250 to 450 and the school worked on two shifts.

“The displacement of people from northern and eastern Gaza to the western side of the Strip created pressure on the number of students who want to learn. The e-learning system during the genocide didn’t work because there was no electricity, no internet and people were evacuating from one place to another.

“For three years, I have been struggling to provide students with their basic rights, their right to education.”

The pressure on schools has also ­increased as the number of functioning educational facilities has declined. As people were displaced to the western parts of Gaza, the schools that remained open had to accommodate more students with fewer resources. For high school students, this disruption has meant traveling longer distances to find a place to study.

READ MORE: Donald Trump bans CNN, MS Now and Politico from White House

Motaz Nael Al-Hattu, 19, who graduated from high school with 81% in the Literary Track of Tawjihi, attended Al-Ghad Al-Mushriq ­Centre in Al-Sabra in Gaza City because there were no schools available for last year’s high school students in the Strip.

“During the genocide, I was displaced seven times in the whole Strip,” Al-Hattu said.

“I had to walk four kilometres to the centre or spend more than an hour under the scorching sun to find a cart.

“Besides my studies, I had to wake at 5:00am, waiting for water trucks to fetch potable water.

“At night, studying was impossible because there was no electricity. I know many friends who dropped Tawjihi out because of the pressure.”

“I was lucky to receive 15 pens from a local organisation to help me with studies. Those pens lasted me the whole year, and if I hadn’t received them, I would have had to buy one pen for $1.”

After he graduated, Al-Hattu passed these pens to his younger sister, who is in the 10th grade, to use them until she receives educational stationery.

For Al-Hattu, the e-learning system was disastrous. “I had to pay around $1 just to download a book for one subject without following lectures,” he recalled. “Due to electricity unavailability, I had to print a 25-page book, which cost me around $10.”

READ MORE: Labour ‘softening’ UK up for a ‘brutal budget’, SNP warn

Al-Hattu, who holds a fully funded scholarship at Al-Israa University, cannot guarantee his future. “This ceasefire is a lie,” he continued. “I believe more organisations must ­provide education to the younger generations.”

While Al-Aoun, Subeih and Al-Khudari focus on the loss of materials, the collapse of school infrastructure and the psychological and practical burdens, young students see attending school itself as a daily struggle.

Tasneem Osama Al-Zaaneen, 16, from Beit Hanoon, who is currently in the tenth grade, studying at Al-Kawther school, is studying the English language at Al-Salam Centre.

“I lost count after the fifth time my family were displaced to our relatives’ home on Al-Wihda Street in Gaza City,” she said.

“Before the genocide, I was attending the Beit Hanoun Girls Preparatory School but the school was demolished by the Israeli occupation.”

For Tasneem, before the genocide, education was official and joyful. “The teachers’ goal was to educate their students so they can succeed and have a good future.

“Due to the genocide, ­stationery ­became unaffordable, as one ­notebook that once cost $0.3 would cost around $2.”

READ MORE: 'National treasure' Alan Cumming honoured by MSPs after Emmys win

“During my displacement, I couldn’t continue my eighth grade in a school because there were no schools functioning in my area,” she explained. “In my ninth grade, I needed to print some books but I couldn’t afford it because the price was high.

“Now, I attend the Al-Kawther school, which is very crowded with more than 45 students in one class, but I love it because I can meet my friends there.

“I want to become a doctor to help others when I grow up.”

For Al-Aoun, Subeih, and Al-Khudari, Al-Hattu and Tasneem, education has become something that must be fought for every day.

From the shortage of paper and ink to crowded classrooms and displacement, the basic conditions needed for children to learn have become increasingly difficult to find.

Yet, despite these challenges, ­teachers continue to open classrooms and students continue to attend them, holding on to education as a way to imagine a future beyond the genocide.

Get involved
with the news

Send your news & photos