Learning Among the Ruins: Education Systems and Informal Education in Gaza
Shulamit Pinchover
Translation: Orit Schwartz
In Khan Yunis, a group of children sits inside a tent. Facing them stands a young teacher, holding a small blackboard, teaching arithmetic. This is one of the “tent classrooms” set up across the Gaza Strip since the war began. For the children, this classroom provides not only a place to learn, but also their first opportunity in months to return to a sense of routine. But with the arrival of winter—a particularly rainy one this year—many of the tents are flooded, and the school routine is once again disrupted.
Even before October 7, 2023, Gaza’s education system faced significant challenges due to ongoing restrictions on movement and access to educational materials, damage from previous military operations, and severe overcrowding. The war that began on October 7 brought the education system in the Gaza Strip to an immediate standstill. All schools and universities closed, and many were subsequently used as shelters for displaced people. The massive bombings resulted in heavy loss of life and many injuries among educators and students. They also caused extensive destruction of educational institutions: within a few months, more than 85% of schools, colleges, and universities in Gaza were damaged or destroyed, and by the spring of 2025, this figure had risen to about 95%. Informal learning spaces, such as libraries, museums, and cultural centers, were also damaged. In addition to the destruction of school buildings and infrastructure, nearly all educational materials and equipment — chairs, tables, blackboards, and textbooks — were lost. Whatever survived the bombardment was eventually used as fuel for heating and cooking during the siege. By early 2026, more than 15,553 schoolchildren and 701 educators had been killed, and more than 23,411 students and 3,015 teachers had been injured. 658,000 school-age children and 87,000 higher education students were left without access to formal educational settings.
On January 19, 2025, a ceasefire came into effect, ending 15 consecutive months of fighting. Local and international education authorities immediately began preparing for children’s return to school. With the assistance of the United Nations, a new school year was announced in Gaza on February 23, 2025—the first since the outbreak of the war. During the ceasefire, aid organizations launched “back-to-school” initiatives. For example, UNRWA (the United Nations Relief and Works Agency for Palestine Refugees in the Near East) developed flexible learning programs that combined distance instruction with classes in temporary spaces, aiming to reach the hundreds of thousands of students unable to return to physical school buildings. In practice, however, only a limited number of schools resumed operations: by the end of February 2025, just 165 public schools across the Gaza Strip had reopened. Students studied in shifts, in temporary classrooms—without electricity or running water, and sometimes without chairs or desks—sitting in tents or partially destroyed rooms. One month later, on March 18, 2025, Israel violated the ceasefire and resumed the war, once again disrupting the fragile routine of schooling. Even after the formal end of the war on October 10, 2025, continued fighting and extensive infrastructure damage have prevented the full restoration of the education system.
In a reality marked by ongoing disruption, instability, and loss of structure, creating points of stability—“bridges of certainty”—becomes particularly essential. These bridges do not eliminate trauma or uncertainty, but they help restore a sense of time, order, and meaning: a fixed hour in the day, a familiar activity, the steady presence of an educator. For children, such continuity can form a dependable—if fragile—path connecting what once existed with the possibility of a future that can still be imagined.
Amid this chaos, informal education initiatives have expanded as part of a community and humanitarian response to children’s immediate needs. Local and international organizations have established alternative learning spaces, implemented flexible curricula, and integrated psychoeducational activities that support academic learning and provide emotional support, helping restore a sense of purpose. Some of these initiatives operate without formal infrastructure or institutional support, seeking to preserve educational and emotional continuity in conditions of displacement.
The story of Maha (not her real name), a teacher in Gaza whom I spoke with in February 2026, illustrates the persistent effort to sustain educational frameworks even after the collapse of the formal system. A mother of two who lost her husband, brother, home, and school during the war, Maha now volunteers in a school established for displaced children living in tents. The school serves approximately 540 students aged 6–12, divided into two shifts, with four teachers responsible for about 130 children per shift. Maha described how the educational work continues despite profound loss: “From the depth of pain, hope is born. I love the teaching profession very much. Among the children, I find myself again. I feel strong, and that together we are fighting all the injustice we live in, through their innocence.” The material conditions are extremely difficult. In most cases, each child has only a notebook and a pen, due to shortages and the high cost of supplies. Many schools lack tables and chairs; children sit on the ground, writing with the page resting on the floor. Education here is understood not only as academic instruction, but as a space for survival and psychological stabilization. As she explained: “When a little child arrives at the school gate with a small note that says ‘I love you’ and hugs me, I feel that we will be okay—because we carry love for them within us and, together, resist everything we have experienced.”
Another example is the work of the Edward Said National Conservatory of Music – Gaza Branch, which continues, even under extreme emergency conditions, to operate musical programs for children after its music school in Gaza was bombed and several students were killed. Through lessons in instrumental music, singing, and group activities held in improvised spaces, the conservatory offers children not only musical education but also a space for expression, emotional regulation, and connection to identity and culture. A video from December 2025 shows a group of girls standing on bare ground among temporary structures, singing holiday songs under a teacher’s guidance. Another clip shows boys and girls auditioning for the conservatory choir, eager to learn and to sing. These brief scenes demonstrate the role of informal education as an anchor of resilience amid ongoing destruction.
The Tamer Institute for Community Education’s “Hakaya” storytelling project provides another informal framework for learning and processing trauma. During the war, professional storytellers traveled to centers for displaced people and to devastated neighborhoods, gathering groups of children for stories and imaginative play. Storytellers in Gaza, who would ordinarily share folk tales and heritage narratives, adapted their content to the new reality: “In the past, we used to tell children stories about their dreams, their aspirations, and themselves. A child could move within a story, just as he moved within his inner world. Now everything has changed. We are forced to talk about explosives, mines, and unfamiliar objects. These have become part of the child’s daily environment, and the stories have become a way of warning them about death.” This is how Ashjan Abu-Obidallah, one of the young storytellers who began leading workshops for displaced children, describes the shift in her work. These storytelling activities allow children to process their experiences indirectly, express fears and hopes, and simply gain a brief, childlike respite from the harsh reality.
Organizations such as UNICEF and Save the Children also operate distance learning programs. These initiatives include recorded lessons, exercises distributed in printed booklets, and training for parents on supporting their children’s learning, with the aim of preventing an entire generation from falling behind academically. However, the lack of a stable communication infrastructure, prolonged power outages, and restrictions on bringing educational equipment—such as computers, books, and pencils—into the Gaza Strip make it difficult to expand online learning.
In addition, as tens of thousands of children in Gaza have been left without parents or homes, new initiatives have emerged in recent months to establish children’s villages and supportive educational spaces that restore daily routines and provide stable frameworks. One of the most prominent examples is a village established in Deir al-Balah called the “Academy of Hope,” which houses about 600 children who have lost their parents. The village provides not only housing, but also daily care, hot meals, physical and mental health services, and educational and cultural activities that help restore elements of childhood and learning to their lives after years of war and insecurity. Similarly, SOS Children’s Villages, which operated in Gaza even before the war, continued its activities after the destruction of its children’s village in Rafah and established an emergency response center in Khan Yunis, where children live, receive emotional support, and continue learning within a structured daily routine. In early 2026, amid deep despair, small signs of hope are emerging. About 40 educational organizations are now operating in Gaza, providing children with academic, emotional, or social support. Yet the scale of the response remains limited: UNICEF, for example, reaches only about 20% of children, and UN officials warn that rebuilding the education system will require enormous time and resources.
International education officials warn of a “lost generation” of children who are falling far behind due to prolonged disruptions to their schooling. At the same time, mental health professionals emphasize that the loss of educational structures exacerbates children’s psychological trauma. Education in Gaza during and after the war is therefore not only a struggle for knowledge, but also for continuity, identity, and hope. As Jonathan Crickx, a UNICEF spokesperson, recently observed: “Even when parents are hungry and living in tents […] the first question they ask is when education will return.” In a context of ongoing disruption, educational structures—even when partial and temporary—provide children with vital points of stability and meaning. Sustaining and strengthening these initiatives is therefore essential for the possibility of a different future for Gaza’s children. This responsibility cannot rest solely on humanitarian organizations; it requires a coordinated, stable, and long-term commitment from the international community.
Dr. Shulamit Pinchover is a researcher and lecturer in the field of early childhood, development, parent-child relationships, and educational and health systems for children and family.
Additional Reading:
Hussein, A., Wong, S., & Bright, A. (2024). History and impact of Israeli siege and attacks on education in Gaza, Palestine. In Oxford Research Encyclopedia of Education.
Iriqat, D., R. Alousi, T. Z. Aldahdouh, A. AlDahdouh, I. Dankar, D. Alburai, M. Buheji, and A. Hassoun. 2025. “Educide amid Conflict: The Struggle of the Palestinian Education System”. Quality Education for All 2 (1): 83–101.