School just a distant memory
The two friends Muhammad and Abed wander through their old school in Khan Younis in the southern Gaza Strip – or rather, what is left of it. The schoolyard is littered with building debris.
The window to their classroom has been shattered by the shock wave of an explosion, affording a view into the rest of the destroyed building. The two dig old school materials out of the rubble. The images and scenes come from Reuters news agency.
"I was top of my class. That was our classroom. Look, it's totally destroyed," says ten-year-old Muhammad El-Fajem. He suggests that lessons could perhaps continue in tents set up in front of the building.
He would be so glad to finally get back to school. But it will never be the same. "I have friends who died in the war, Bassem, Muhammad and Abdallah. They often came over to my house and we went to school together every day," he says.
According to the Palestinian Ministry of Education, nearly 5,500 students and over 260 teachers have been killed in the Israeli offensive that began after 7 October 2023 and the taking of Israeli hostages by Hamas.
Destruction intentional?
The 625,000 pupils in the Gaza Strip have not attended school for over six months. "There is absolutely no form of education or schooling in Gaza at the moment," says Jonathan Crick, spokesperson for the UN Children's Fund UNICEF in Jerusalem. UN experts are meanwhile denouncing "the systematic destruction of the education system" in the Gaza Strip, according to a statement released last week by UN News.
"It may be reasonable to ask if there is an intentional effort to comprehensively destroy the Palestinian education system, an action known as 'scholasticide'", the statement continues. The term "scholasticide" refers to the "systematic obliteration of education through the arrest, detention or killing of teachers, students and staff and the destruction of educational infrastructure".
Inger Ashing, CEO of Save the Children International, and Jan Egeland, Secretary General of the Norwegian Refugee Council, whose organisations are both active in the Gaza Strip, have issued a joint statement warning of the long-term consequences of this destruction.
This devastation will have a lasting impact on an entire generation, they say. Because of the conflict, there is no longer any access to education. But even when the guns fall silent, there will be no schools left for the children to return to. "We know from previous crises that the longer children are out of school, the greater the risk that they do not return," warn the two experts.
"We try to imitate a classroom setting"
This is one of the motivations behind a new initiative in Khan Younis, not far from the ruined school of the two friends Muhammad and Abed, which is trying to reintroduce some sort of education. In the open air, a good 50 children and a few teachers have gathered. Sitting on the ground, the children read a short story from a poster hung on a building wall. Their enthusiasm is evident from the volume of their voices as they read along with the teacher.
"We started this to give the children some psychological relief from their fears and the bombings. We are trying to imitate a real classroom setting. They learn Arabic poems, recite literature, have English and maths lessons," explains teacher Muhammad Koudary.
He describes the aim of his initiative as endeavouring to help the pupils to pick up where they left off and prevent them from drifting even further away from their schooling. "But of course this is no substitute for real school," he admits. He then hands out a dozen notebooks, far too few for the children present. Many of the children's outstretched hands remain empty.
A modicum of normality
Third grader Iman Ahmad was lucky and goes home with a notebook. Or, to be precise, to the container in which her family has been living since they fled Gaza City for the south to escape the Israeli attacks. She spends the day there with her siblings. But even here it's not safe.
"Before the war, I woke up every morning, had breakfast and then put on my school uniform. Now I wake up when I hear the explosions. But I've got used to it now," says the little girl.
Ibtisam El-Ramlawy, Iman's mother, is worried about the future of her four daughters' education. When her daughters talk about home, it's usually about the school they attended with their friends.
"I'm afraid that my children will fall behind because they haven't had any lessons for so long. We have tried to make up for it at home as best we can with textbooks. I have worked so hard to ensure that my children have a decent education. As a mother, I find the whole situation just awful," she says, summing up her feelings.
At least the new initiative gives her daughter a bit of hope. "It reminds me of my school days with my friends. That's a wonderful feeling that I had forgotten during the past months of war," says Iman.
At the end of the improvised school day, the teacher Muhammad Koudary stands holding a stamp pad, surrounded by children. He stamps a red heart on their cheeks. A confirmation of their attendance when they go home. But it's actually much more than that: a small reminder that, at least for a brief moment, a modicum of normality has returned to the children's lives.
© Qantara.de 2024
Translated from the German by Jennifer Taylor