Education under fire: Gaza students and professors how to study and teach in war zones
Before starting the day's lesson, Aseel Alwan heads to the kitchen to make coffee, puts the kettle on an open flame, pours her into the water in the cup, and pours instant coffee. She then heads to the bedroom where she begins looking for internet connection every day – a difficult task in her family home in Gaza City.
The 21-year-old is creating her bachelor's degree in English literature at Al-Aqsa University. She is among the thousands of college students in Gaza who tried to continue learning despite the war.
Alwan and her family are among the lucky few who are still standing. They refused to leave Gaza for the south because they said their safety was at risk regardless of the stripping site.
Ahmed Junina, professor of English literature at Alwan, said the number of enrollment at universities “a sharp drop”. Almost a year and a half after the battle began, most universities in Gaza were destroyed, including Al-Aqsa, and the study was stopped among the approximately 88,000 students throughout the enclave, according to Palestinian education officials.
“I don't think it was unexpected, we're talking about students who were forced to flee their homes or lose their family,” Juninner said.
Throughout the war, he has struggled to stay in touch with his students and estimates that nearly 90% of people were displaced when he took online classes.
Even Alwan was still standing, sometimes forced to leave due to nearby attacks. Although she has been able to return so far, it all has caused huge losses. She and her family once thought it was temporary, struggling every day as they tried to make a living, while universities, schools and hospitals were bombarded.
“To be honest, it's not easy to see the college you've been on the ground for years,” Alwan told CBC press freedom photographer Mohamed El Saife.
“It’s like years of knowledge and hope…the future is eliminating.”

Find the connection
That's why Junina, formerly a visiting professor at Laval University in Montreal, has a mission to continue to support the 600 students he currently teaches in three courses.
The work, he said, is “more driven by personal and collective responsibility than by institutional structures or requirements.”
And this is usually done without proper compensation – Junina said he currently accounts for about 30% of the past and payments may be irregular.
“Many of us continue to teach and support students not because we are properly compensated, but because we believe that education must continue, and that students must support them even in wartime.”
Alwan was pleased to have the opportunity to continue studying, but was often overwhelmed by fear and uncertainty and said what she and others endured was “nothing that students should go through.”
She said access to the internet was the biggest challenge she faced in continuing her education.
“The internet is either too weak or completely cut off,” she said, noting that in a displacement she had to walk for 45 minutes to find a good stable signal.
“And it's not even a practical place. You have to stand in the middle of the street and try to do your thing.”
Although she is back home now, Alwan usually learns in a cafe near their building because it has better internet access. But last Friday, after a week of heavy bombing, she thought it would be safer to work from home.
Before she starts her day's course, she needs to log in to the internet. To do this, she went to the windows of the room with stronger signal. There, she scans the QR code using her phone, which loads the app and gives her a number to enter. The system gives her a more stable connection.
Once connected, she will play on Junina's voice notes. This is one of several news that will constitute the course of the day.
Voice messaging courses
The professor said that war has greatly changed his life.
“Now, my daily work has changed, rather than coming to your university, your classroom, meeting students in person, but changing my daily work.”
Junina now teaches mainly at home, sitting at a desk with laptop and textbooks. He kept his WhatsApp and Telegram account on his phone, where he recorded his speeches. Sometimes his recordings capture the sound of drones buzzing in the distance, which is constantly reminding war.
Once the recording is finished, he compresses the file, making it easier to download and send voice notes to students. Then, he gave another class on his laptop.
Because electricity is not always reliable, when charging equipment is needed, he heads to an internet cafe and walks through endless piles of rubble. In the ruins of what used to be residential buildings, businesses and universities, plants grew through cinder blocks.
When Junina arrived at the cafe, a spacious open space with a row of tables occupied by people wearing headphones, he sat down and pulled up his laptop to continue working.
Sometimes his students meet him here because they need a stable internet connection to complete the exam and quizzes sent through timed links.
Junina believes that the war has forced universities to expand online learning and adapt to the current situation, but he believes that it will benefit them in the end.
“I imagine a future where online platforms last for some time to supplement in-person education,” he said. “Because even if the war is over or stops tomorrow, I don’t think students are ready to resume in-person education immediately.”
At the same time, there are many students like Alwan who are dedicated to learning.
She is still uncomfortable with her situation and says she plans to complete her studies and apply for a scholarship to study abroad.
“My only motivation is that I think education is a powerful tool and a weapon against this profession.”