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‘I miss feeling normal’Sarah al-Sharif, nine, Gaza City- Sarah's home and school were destroyed in the war "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. Soon after, my father came to take me home. I never saw that classroom again. My school is gone for ever. 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." |
‘We don’t want pity, we want action’
Juwayriya Adwan, 12, al-Mawasi, Khan Younis
It has been two years since I was last inside a real classroom. Two years since I heard the morning bell at Khawla Bint al-Azwar school, sat at my desk and raised my hand during my favourite class. Sometimes I still vividly remember the sounds and smells: chalk dust, pencil shavings, laughter echoing down the halls. But my school no longer exists; it was bombed by the Israelis soon after the war began. My books were burned, and some of my friends killed.
I was in fifth grade on 7 October: the last day I went to school. 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. I remember wishing for a normal day; lessons, recess, a poem recital. Instead, that day became the last page of my old life.
Now I live with my parents, two brothers and sister in a crowded shelter in al-Mawasi, Khan Younis. 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, I look up at the stars through the holes of my tent and wonder if my 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.
I once dreamed of becoming a teacher to help Gaza’s children learn, even when life was hard. Now I dream of being a journalist – to write, to speak and to show the world what it means to be a child in Gaza. 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 there’s some ... READ MORE https://www.theguardian.com/global-development/2025/oct/19/education-gaza-children-teachers-two-years-without-school