Gaza — Mohammed Hassan, a medical student, stood at the gates of Al-Azhar University clutching a small bag of dental tools, taking in a campus he barely recognized.
Two years ago, he had rushed through the same entrance with friends, joking about exams. Today, he faced cracked pillars, shattered windows, and dust-covered remnants of the dental labs where he once trained.
“When I stepped inside, I felt something between grief and victory. Studying from tents and shelters was hard, but standing here again made me feel a part of my life survived,” Hassan told The Padmel.
For many Palestinian students, the reopening of universities is not just academic; it is a symbolic resurrection of a community devastated by two years of war.
Israeli attacks flattened lecture halls, libraries, and labs, disrupted electricity, and displaced nearly all faculty. Students were forced into shelters, attending online classes with limited access to devices or connectivity.
Now, Gaza’s largest universities, Al-Azhar and the Islamic University, are cautiously resuming in-person learning. Hassan said, “Even though half the equipment is missing, being back in the dental lab brings me closer to my dream.”
Medical student Nour al-Hatu shared similar feelings: “The lecture hall lacks proper equipment, but wearing my stethoscope here made life feel like it’s coming back.”
Al-Azhar University’s Vice President, Mohamed Shubair, framed reopening as a national mission. “Our goal was to fulfill students’ dream of returning to campus, even with limited resources,” he said. Around 1,000 students have returned for practical faculties, while over 12,000 continue online classes on the Moodle platform amid power outages.
“Before the war, we had over 300 academic staff. Today, the practical faculties have only ten lecturers in dentistry and five assistants in medicine,” Shubair said, stressing that education must remain separate from political disputes. Yet, despite the destruction, postwar enrolment has surged, reflecting students’ search for hope.
The Islamic University faces similar challenges. Most buildings were flattened, some now sheltering displaced families. Inside a barely repaired classroom, students study under weak generator-powered lighting, walls scarred by shrapnel. “Education is not a luxury; it’s our only lifeline,” said medical student Salma Mohammed.
Other Gaza universities, including Al-Aqsa University and the University College of Applied Sciences, remain online-only due to destroyed campuses, unsafe roads, and staff shortages. Students often share devices in tents or shelters, recording lectures when electricity returns.
Faculty have gone beyond teaching, offering psychological support and emergency aid, particularly for families of martyred staff. Al-Azhar’s College of Arts and Humanities emphasized continuity despite the occupation’s attempts to disrupt education.
The Gaza Government Media Office estimates 165 educational institutions were fully destroyed, 392 partially damaged, and nearly 300,000 people remain in temporary housing. Experts warn that reopening universities is vital to preserve Gaza’s intellectual and cultural life.
Shubair summed up the challenge: “Education is the only battle Gaza must win after all this devastation,” while acknowledging that survival depends on Arab and international support.