In Gaza City, the sound of children learning can be heard once again. The tents that now serve as classrooms are noisy and a little chaotic but lively. Some teachers point to boards covered in English letters; others invite pupils to come forward and write basic Arabic words. It is nowhere near a normal school day. But after the Israel-Hamas ceasefire in October, it's a start.
After two years of war, the hum of lessons and chatter of classmates resonates around the ruins of what was once Lulwa Abdel Wahab al-Qatami School, in the Tel al-Hawa neighbourhood in the south-western part of Gaza City. It was hit in January 2024, and for months afterwards, its grounds served as a shelter for displaced families. Today, it is again a place of learning - albeit in a more basic form.
Walking in a straight line, their small arms resting on each other's shoulders, pupils smile as they head into the makeshift classrooms. For many, this is the first return to routine and education since the war began. According to Unicef, more than 97% of schools in Gaza were damaged or destroyed during the war. The IDF has made repeated claims that Hamas uses civilian infrastructure including schools to carry out operations but has rarely provided solid evidence.
Of the Strip's 658,000 school-aged children, most have had no formal education for nearly two years. During that time, many learned first-hand how hunger, displacement and death can shape their young lives. Now, something rare is emerging: a fragile glimpse of the childhoods they once knew.
Fourteen-year-old Naeem al-Asmaar used to attend this school before it was destroyed. He lost his mother in an Israeli air strike during the war. It was the hardest thing I've ever been through, he says quietly. Although he was displaced for months, Naeem's home in Gaza City survived. After the ceasefire, he returned with his family.
He missed being in school a lot, Naeem said, adding that the difference is stark. Before the war, school was in real classrooms. Now it's tents. We only study four subjects. There isn't enough space. The education is not the same - but being here matters. School fills all my time and I really needed that.
Rital Alaa Harb, a ninth-grade student who once studied here too, wants to become a dentist. Displacement affected my education completely, she says. There was no time to study. No schools. I missed my friends so much - and I miss my old school.
The makeshift school is run by Unicef and brings together children from the original Lulwa school and others displaced by the war. It does not teach the full Palestinian curriculum - only the basics: Arabic, English, mathematics, and science.
The principal, Dr Mohammed Saeed Schheiber, has worked in education for 24 years. He took over management of the site in mid-November. We started with determination, he said, to compensate students for what they lost.
The school currently serves 1,100 boys and girls, operating in three shifts a day - with boys attending on alternating days from girls. There are just 24 teachers.
Dr Schheiber notes that before the war, the students learned in fully equipped schools. Now there is no electricity, no internet, and many children are struggling with trauma. Over 100 students at the school have lost one or both parents or had their homes destroyed. Despite the challenges, the determination to continue learning remains strong as education is viewed as essential.
After two years of war, the hum of lessons and chatter of classmates resonates around the ruins of what was once Lulwa Abdel Wahab al-Qatami School, in the Tel al-Hawa neighbourhood in the south-western part of Gaza City. It was hit in January 2024, and for months afterwards, its grounds served as a shelter for displaced families. Today, it is again a place of learning - albeit in a more basic form.
Walking in a straight line, their small arms resting on each other's shoulders, pupils smile as they head into the makeshift classrooms. For many, this is the first return to routine and education since the war began. According to Unicef, more than 97% of schools in Gaza were damaged or destroyed during the war. The IDF has made repeated claims that Hamas uses civilian infrastructure including schools to carry out operations but has rarely provided solid evidence.
Of the Strip's 658,000 school-aged children, most have had no formal education for nearly two years. During that time, many learned first-hand how hunger, displacement and death can shape their young lives. Now, something rare is emerging: a fragile glimpse of the childhoods they once knew.
Fourteen-year-old Naeem al-Asmaar used to attend this school before it was destroyed. He lost his mother in an Israeli air strike during the war. It was the hardest thing I've ever been through, he says quietly. Although he was displaced for months, Naeem's home in Gaza City survived. After the ceasefire, he returned with his family.
He missed being in school a lot, Naeem said, adding that the difference is stark. Before the war, school was in real classrooms. Now it's tents. We only study four subjects. There isn't enough space. The education is not the same - but being here matters. School fills all my time and I really needed that.
Rital Alaa Harb, a ninth-grade student who once studied here too, wants to become a dentist. Displacement affected my education completely, she says. There was no time to study. No schools. I missed my friends so much - and I miss my old school.
The makeshift school is run by Unicef and brings together children from the original Lulwa school and others displaced by the war. It does not teach the full Palestinian curriculum - only the basics: Arabic, English, mathematics, and science.
The principal, Dr Mohammed Saeed Schheiber, has worked in education for 24 years. He took over management of the site in mid-November. We started with determination, he said, to compensate students for what they lost.
The school currently serves 1,100 boys and girls, operating in three shifts a day - with boys attending on alternating days from girls. There are just 24 teachers.
Dr Schheiber notes that before the war, the students learned in fully equipped schools. Now there is no electricity, no internet, and many children are struggling with trauma. Over 100 students at the school have lost one or both parents or had their homes destroyed. Despite the challenges, the determination to continue learning remains strong as education is viewed as essential.
