Latest news with #IslamicUniversityofGaza
Roya News
22-05-2025
- Politics
- Roya News
Yahya Sinwar brother Zakaria confirmed dead in 'Israeli' strike
Zakaria al-Sinwar, brother of the late Hamas political leader Yahya Sinwar, has been confirmed dead after succumbing to wounds sustained in an 'Israeli' strike that targeted his tent in the Gaza Strip several days ago, local reports said. The 'Israeli' strike hit his tent in Nuseirat camp earlier this week, and killed his three sons on the spot. Zakaria was announced dead at the time but later showed signs of life and was transferred to an intensive care unit – before succumbing to his wounds on Wednesday afternoon. Zakaria Sinwar was a Palestinian historian and an academic – he is a professor of modern and contemporary history at the Islamic University in the Gaza Strip. Born in Khan Younis refugee camp in the Gaza Strip, Sinwar completed his secondary education in Khan Younis in 1983. He earned a bachelor's degree in history from the Islamic University of Gaza and a diploma from Al-Aqsa University. In 2003, he received a master's degree, followed by a Ph.D. in the history of Zionism from the Institute of Arab Research and Studies in Cairo in 2006. Al-Sinwar served as the director of the Oral History Center at the Islamic University of Gaza from 2000 to 2002 and later became an associate professor in the university's Department of History within the Faculty of Arts.
The Intercept
17-05-2025
- Politics
- The Intercept
Students and Teachers in Gaza: 'Education Itself Is a Form of Defiance'
In Gaza, where the echoes of conflict dominate daily life, education has become both a casualty and a symbol of resistance. Through shattered classrooms, broken internet connections, and the constant fear of displacement or death, students and teachers are striving to keep learning alive even when everything around them falls apart. Here, education is no longer a pathway to opportunity; it is a fight for survival. Since the escalation of the genocidal war in October 2023, schools and universities across Gaza have closed their doors, been bombed and destroyed, and become shelters for displaced Palestinians. The lives, dreams, and mental health of thousands of students and educators have been transformed. All of Gaza's universities have been leveled by airstrikes. More than 85 percent of schools in Gaza have been completely or partially destroyed, according to U.N. experts. According to the Euro-Mediterranean Human Rights Monitor, three university presidents and over 95 university deans and professors, including 68 holding professor titles, have been killed in Israeli airstrikes. Despite the destruction and genocide in Gaza, education is still resistance. And every student and teacher who dares to dream is a symbol of unbreakable hope. Here are four of their stories. Serene Nasrallah at her graduation ceremony from the Islamic University of Gaza on Aug. 8, 2023. Photo: Courtesy of Serene Nasrallah Serene Nasrallah, an assistant lecturer of English at the Islamic University of Gaza, says the war has reduced her role to that of a 'mediator' and has redefined what it means to teach. The most impactful challenge is lack of power and internet all over the Strip as she is teaching passive online courses. 'I can't reach my students easily,' and even communicating with fellow university staff has become difficult. She feels she shifted from being a lecturer to being only a coordinator between the course and the students 'I just share slides. I can't explain. I can't engage. I use my phone to manage everything — even grading.' Since the beginning of the war, Serene observed multiple challenges in her students. The focus has shifted from learning to getting through requirements. 'They are surrounded by anxiety, fear, and anticipation; their academic level is badly affected.' This war has robbed students of the time needed to focus and collect their mental capacity when needed. With no salary, minimal resources, and little emotional support, Serene presses on. She shares one tragic story that haunts her still: A student who suffered severe injuries and later died after requesting a delay for her final exam. 'I keep thinking of her,' Serene says. 'How can you ask someone to focus on grammar while they're burned and broken?' Despite her exhaustion, Serene continues teaching. 'I do it hoping this experience might one day help me get a scholarship or job overseas,' she admits. 'But mostly, I do it for the reward from Allah.' 'The most urgent need is not resources — it's security,' says Serene. 'Only when the bombs stop falling and the genocide ends can the learning truly begin.' Heba Alajouz volunteers at Al-Aqsa Hospital in Dei al-Balah, Gaza, on Feb. 15, 2023. Photo: Courtesy of Heba Alajouz Heba Alajouz, a third-year medical student at Al-Azhar University, has not given up on her studies. 'I've been trying to continue my education in medicine, but we stopped attending university. Professors are unreachable, and some have even been killed. Others are serving in overwhelmed hospitals. We're studying independently, clinging to any resource we can find online — when there's electricity or internet.' Heba's education has been on hold for about eight months. Her university is destroyed, and she often lacks access to essential learning materials or the internet. 'I miss everything about university life: my friends, the atmosphere, the daily routine, and even the breaks we used to enjoy together,' she says with deep nostalgia. 'Every day brings a moment of hopelessness,' she confesses. 'Still, I hold on to faith and the belief that I have a duty to continue.' Heba expresses deep fear that she may not be able to complete her education. She says she is in a state of emotional denial and has yet to fully process the trauma she and her peers have endured. She recounts the trauma of multiple displacements — evacuating under fire without her personal belongings or textbooks. She has lost both close friends and family members: Her grandfather died due to lack of medical treatment, and her cousin was killed during the attacks. 'I miss the person I used to be.' 'There is no safe place here,' she states. The war has completely altered her perception of the future. The life and career she once envisioned have vanished, and she no longer makes plans for the future until the war ends. 'I miss the person I used to be — my emotions, my thoughts, my sense of safety, my health, and the colorful days of the past,' she reflects. She doubts those days will ever return. However, she draws inspiration from a saying of Prophet Muhammad: 'If the Hour (of Judgment) comes while one of you has a palm-cutting in his hand, let him plant it.' Even in the face of the end, one must strive to do good. That belief sustains her. 'I hope this war ends soon so we can study like students everywhere — safely and with dignity,' she says. Fatima Skaik pictured working on architectural plans. Photo: Courtesy of Fatima Skaik Fatima Skaik, a third-year architecture student at the Islamic University of Gaza, lost both her home and university and was displaced multiple times. She had hoped to freelance as an architect and eventually work in Dubai. She once dreamed of her graduation project, which focused on advancing technology in Gaza's architecture. 'Now, my only dream is to survive, finish my studies, and help rebuild Gaza,' she admits. 'Education itself is a form of defiance.' Fatima was forced to pause her studies from October 2023 until August 2024. 'Even access to the internet remains a major obstacle in continuing my education,' she says. Fatima's challenges include the lack of tools and spaces needed for architectural training. Yet she speaks with deep resilience: 'Our professors were kind. They would reach out when I disappeared due to internet outages. That kept me going. We Palestinians have an unbreakable will.' Read our complete coverage She longs for the life she once had: her home, her room, her drafting studio, campus outings, and nights spent working on submissions. Despite the loss, she draws strength from her belief in the power of education as a form of resistance. 'We resist not only with weapons but with knowledge, persistence, and resilience. Education itself is a form of defiance,' she emphasizes. 'We are strong, intelligent, and hard-working,' says Fatima. 'We just want to learn in peace,' she adds. 'We want to show the world that despite everything, we continue. We've become an inspiration to students who feel hopeless for reasons far less than war.' Nadera Moshtaha, center, with her team for the English department at the Islamic University of Gaza's Victorian Era Day Exhibition on July 10, 2023. Photo: Courtesy of Nadera Moshtaha Nadera Moshtaha, a senior English-language student at the Islamic University of Gaza, shares how the ongoing war has profoundly affected both her academic life and emotional well-being. She continues her studies online, but the war has had a severe impact. 'Our university has been destroyed, our friends have been killed, and we no longer attend classes on campus,' she says. She lives in constant anxiety, overwhelmed by continuous thoughts and worries. She and her family have been displaced multiple times, and she has lost relatives and friends, including her grandfather. 'There is no safe place in the entire city,' she says. 'Our dreams and plans are gone. But I'm still trying,' Nadera says. She misses her campus life deeply. 'I long for my friends, our laughs, and those vibrant mornings. The war has dried my tears. I don't cry anymore — not even at goodbyes,' she recounts. Power cuts and internet failures are a daily struggle. 'I can't study at night because of electricity cuts, and night is the only time I can focus,' she explains. When asked about her future, she replies with hesitation and fear: 'Honestly, I don't know. If there were no war, I could have answered where I see myself.' Yet, despite the devastation, she says, 'Hope still flies, even among death. I try to keep writing and learning because maybe I can help this city — even with my words.'
Zawya
22-04-2025
- Politics
- Zawya
HBKU invites global academics and experts for conference on rebuilding higher education in Gaza
Doha - Hamad Bin Khalifa University (HBKU) convened international leaders in education, international diplomacy, and development, as well as senior figures from Palestinian academia for the Conference on Rebuilding Higher Education in Gaza. Organized in collaboration with Education Above All, the Islamic University of Gaza, University of Fort Hare, University of Johannesburg, and University of Glasgow, the event builds on the expertise of the College of Public Policy's Professor Sultan Barakat and is a follow up to a previous meeting that took place in Glasgow in December 2024. The conference addressed the urgent need to reconstruct Gaza's higher education sector in the wake of devastating conflict. Professor Francisco J. Marmolejo, President of Higher Education, Qatar Foundation, along with Professor Nader Jawad Alnemra, Deputy President of the Islamic University of Gaza; Dr. David Duncan, Deputy Vice-Chancellor of the University of Glasgow; and Professor Sakhela Buhlungu, Vice Chancellor of the University of Fort Hare, welcomed the attendees and underlined the conference's timeliness and importance. HE Ambassador Nassir Abdulaziz Al Nasser, President, United Nations General Assembly 66th Session, and former UN High Representative for the Alliance of Civilizations, kicked off proceedings with a keynote address that outlined Qatar's commitment to education both nationally and internationally and helped participants reflect on the global significance of rebuilding academic institutions, especially in times of conflict. In his opening remarks, Professor Sultan Barakat, CPP, noted: 'We are here to affirm a principle: that education is a right, not a privilege; that universities are sacred spaces for knowledge, identity, and hope; and that Palestinian higher education - rooted in struggle, dignity, and history - is central to all forms of reconstruction and development.' Participants also included distinguished academics from the Universities of Oxford, Cambridge, Durham, Leeds, University College London, Imperial College, Edinburgh, Ulster, King's College, Harvard, York, Toronto, Dublin, Bard College, Oslo, Lille and other institutions from across the world. They gathered in workshops and panel discussions to explore the immediate and long-term needs in rebuilding Gaza's higher education sector, including how education institutions can be rebuilt and made more resilient, as well as their central role in post-conflict rebuilding throughout Gaza. A powerful plenary session on the first day highlighted the scale of destruction inflicted on Gaza's higher education sector. University leaders from Al-Azhar University, Al-Quds Open University, An-Najah University, Al-Aqsa University, Birzeit University, Palestine University, Gaza University, and the Palestinian Ministry of Education shared first-hand accounts of the devastation of the conflict. The Conference is the latest example of HBKU's ongoing support for Palestine's academic sector, which comprises engagement in local and international discussions as well as robust academic research. About Hamad Bin Khalifa University Innovating Today, Shaping Tomorrow Hamad Bin Khalifa University (HBKU), a member of Qatar Foundation for Education, Science, and Community Development (QF), is a leading, innovation-centric university committed to advancing education and research to address critical challenges facing Qatar and beyond. HBKU develops multidisciplinary academic programs and national research capabilities that drive collaboration with leading global institutions. The university is dedicated to equipping future leaders with an entrepreneurial mindset and advancing innovative solutions that create a positive global impact. For more information about HBKU, its colleges, research institutes, and initiatives, please visit To stay up to date on our social media activities, follow our accounts on: LinkedIn, Instagram, X, and Facebook. For any media inquiries, please contact: media@ About the College of Public Policy The College of Public Policy (CPP) accomplishes HBKU's priority to contribute to effective policy development, evaluation, and dialogue in support of Qatar National Vision 2030. HBKU's CPP is one of the leading public policy schools and knowledge hubs regionally and globally. It provides a uniquely situated venue for public conversation in Qatar, and a center for teaching and researching responses to policy questions of local and global relevance. Highly dynamic and open to novel ideas and experimentation, the CPP recruits the world's best faculty, builds research capacity, educates future leaders who engage with their communities, and acts as a bridge for policy innovations that positively contribute to global public good. For more information about HBKU's CPP, visit
The Guardian
13-04-2025
- General
- The Guardian
‘Gaza, it breaks my heart to see you in this state': three stories from young Palestinian writers
How Gaza inspired me to be a 'surgeon' for historic buildings When I was a child walking to elementary school, I'd pass by massive, castle-like buildings in the old part of Gaza City. They fascinated me because they were so different from the buildings around my home. One day, I asked my mom why they were so different. 'They were built a long time before our home,' she said simply. I wasn't satisfied. 'But Grandpa's house was built before ours, and it is in our same style. Why is that?!' Being a curious girl, I continued with my 'why and how' questions. I wouldn't stop until I understood. My mom had no other choice but to teach me a bit about Gaza's architectural history, including how buildings differed from one era to another. As expected, it was difficult for a little girl to understand the new words. My mom tried using metaphors so I could grasp new ideas. 'Gaza is like a human being, a person. A person begins small, then grows up over time to become old. It's sort of the same with buildings; they are 'born' in one form, but their size and condition changes with time, until they are old and worn.' For me, that was clearer and more convincing! My fascination with historic, castle-like buildings grew. I was overwhelmed with joy whenever my class went on a school trip to visit these vestiges of our history. These school trips offered rare opportunities to walk inside the buildings and get to know them more intimately. The building that most fascinated me as a child was Qasr al-Basha, which local legend says was built by the 13th-century Mamluk sultan Zahir Baybars for a Gazan woman whom he fell in love with and married. Romantic, right? While I was flipping through TV channels one day, I stumbled upon a documentary explaining how archaeologists study ancient buildings and try to prevent them from collapsing or eroding away. It seemed to me that these archaeologists were like surgeons, trying to prolong the lives of their elderly patients. They clean the worn stones and inject substances that prevent corrosion. The buildings embody the world's history and so we must care for them. I couldn't stop wondering why I didn't see similar methods used to protect and preserve the historic buildings in Gaza City. As the days passed, I learned that, in Gaza, it's the architects who care for old buildings. (I've since discovered that in more well-resourced countries, preservation is the province of specialists called conservators, with architects designing new or remodelled buildings.) I decided to become what I like to think of as a 'surgeon for historic buildings'. So I started my studies at the Islamic University of Gaza (IUG) in 2008 and I became an architectural engineer. While studying, I enrolled in every programme and organisation I could that was relevant to the preservation of Gaza's architectural heritage. One of these is Iwan Center for Cultural Heritage at IUG that works to restore and preserve Gaza's historic urban sites, trains professionals in the art and educates the public. As a member of the team there, I collected social and economic data for residents living in historic buildings, such as the number of family members and their employment status. When donor funds become available for renovation, we prioritise by need and the condition of the building. There are so many buildings falling down, with the walls eroding due to moisture and threatening to make residents homeless and with no protection from the cold of winter and the searing summers. I see now the need to spread awareness of the value of these structures to our heritage and what we can do, as a people, to save them. To be fair, there are quite a lot of renovated residential buildings, but sadly, the techniques have not always made them better; instead, sometimes erosion of the stone accelerates. Other buildings have been demolished by their owners who are unaware of, or don't care about, their historic value. They do this to replace them with bigger houses that can accommodate a family's expansion in one of the most densely populated places on Earth. Two million people live on 365 square kilometres. That's 5,479 people per square kilometre. Our government is too poor to offer any financial support to owners of historic buildings. Something else I came to realise is that there is not enough experience in the field of architectural heritage preservation in Gaza. With so many life-or-death crises here, protecting buildings always ends up at the bottom of the government's priority list. It's also important to note that Gaza's ancient buildings and heritage suffer first and foremost due to the Israeli blockade. The blockade prevents many construction materials from entering the Strip and any that make it in are immediately used to rebuild houses and essential public buildings destroyed by the Israelis' relentless bombing. The siege is also the main obstacle to communicating and collaborating with any international experts and organisations. Sometimes I wonder how close we are to losing the architectural heritage of Gaza. If still-living souls, crying out from Gaza to the outside world, are barely heard, how will ancient stones fare any better before they erode away, taking with them the history of a city and a people? Will anybody hear their silent cries before it is too late? If you want to erase a nation, start with its history. Gaza City's history is a big part of the history of Palestine, the Fertile Crescent and the Holy Land. We all need to care because it is a part of our human history. Eman remains in Gaza, and has been forced to relocate three times. She had been pursuing her master's degree in business administration before the genocide began, but has been unable to complete her thesis (on entrepreneurship and the sustainability of startups in the Gaza Strip) due to the internet blackouts. She hasn't felt safe enough to venture out to see what has happened to the historic buildings she loves so much, but she is aware of the statistics: 'More than 60% of our buildings here have been destroyed. The rest are damaged to some degree.' A Palestinian woman takes charge Every morning, Amani Shaat starts her day at 9am by shopping for all the ingredients she needs for the day. Then she heads to her little street kiosk to cook beefburgers for the customers who keep her busy until almost midnight. Amani, 25, is the first woman in Gaza to work in a street kiosk. After she started her business, named Salt3 Burger, in January 2023, she was soon noticed by journalists and curious customers. 'They were astonished to see a girl standing and cooking in a kiosk on the street. The number of burger patties I had prepared for two days finished after two hours,' she recalled happily. Amani's route to her little kiosk overlooking the sea on al-Rasheed Street took a number of twists and turns. She started out working in a wedding dress shop, where the pay was poor. Four years ago, Amani and her husband travelled to Turkey, looking for better work. First, Amani worked in several factories, but then she found work that was more fulfilling: waitressing and cooking in different restaurants that offered western dishes. This is how she learned the recipe for beefburgers. While she prepared a burger meal for a customer in Gaza, Amani told me: 'My life was stable enough in Turkey. I wasn't planning to come back to Gaza. But my mother is very sick, and I wanted to be with her. Her treatment will last for a long time, so I started to think of what I could do for a living while staying close to her.' It was her dream to run her own fast-food business. She thought about starting up in a retail store in the university district, but there was a big problem: the rent was expensive and she had no money. And most of her customers would be university students who don't have much money to spend. The situation looked hopeless until one day, when she was walking on al-Rasheed Street, she spotted an abandoned kiosk. She managed to locate the owner, Mahmoud Almuhtadi, who was running another kiosk next door. 'I told him I want to rent this abandoned kiosk. He said he used it for storage,' recalled Amani. 'Then he said, 'You are a girl. What would a girl do in a kiosk?' I told him the idea and he was impressed and said, 'I will give you the kiosk and I will be your business partner.'' Not everyone in Amani's life believed in her and many tried to discourage her from pursuing her fast-food dream. 'People surrounding me told me I would fail in this as I had failed in everything else. So I was worried that all my efforts would be in vain because I wouldn't be able to do it alone without support, especially since I didn't have enough capital.' But Amani was determined to give it a try. She knew she had two things on her side: one, in Gaza, beefburgers are only offered in restaurants where they are relatively expensive; and two, she could prepare the burger patties herself, according to her own recipe. Amani sells a burger without chips for seven shekels (£1.50) and a burger with chips for 10 shekels (about £2). Amani cannot contain her excitement about how successful her small business has become. 'I was stressed out when the first customer came on opening day,' she recalled with a smile. 'I work all day. I am exhausted. But when a customer tells me, 'It is delicious', I forget all the tiredness and I feel as if I am over the moon. I don't know what my next step is. I don't even have time to think about it. All that matters is that I am achieving what I have always dreamed of.' Lubna, her parents and sister were able to leave Gaza for Egypt three months into the war. Three siblings and their families remain in Gaza. Gaza, my homeland, we will rebuild you one day My name is Aya, and I am 23 years old. I have been an artist for 10 years. I also graduated as a dentist from Al-Azhar University in Gaza, in June 2023. I have long pursued both of my dreams. I now have an extensive collection of my artwork, in the hope of opening my own gallery. I already have participated in many exhibitions, but my dream was to 'star' in a major solo show. Meanwhile, I spent five years studying dentistry, which also is a form of art. Enhancing someone's smile, and thus making a difference in their life, has been incredibly fulfilling for me. However, the war on Gaza has drastically altered those plans. On 7 October, just two months into my year-long, postgraduate dental training, the Israeli occupation forces forced me to evacuate my home in northern Gaza and flee on foot to the south. Along the way, we were forced to pass through many army checkpoints. Israeli soldiers stood in a line along the path we walked, calling out names on microphones. They forced us to raise a white flag and show our IDs. They randomly selected young men and ordered them to strip off their clothes. I saw burned bodies strewn in the middle of the street. I will never forget that traumatic experience. I left behind all my paintings, along with the tools and supplies I need to create art. I also have had to halt my dental training, putting my entire career on hold. My university, the hospitals and the clinics where I trained are all destroyed. There is no life left to return to. My family and I were displaced twice more since then. Despite claims by the Israeli army that southern Gaza was a safe area, this was not true. Basic necessities were nearly impossible to find. Clean water was scarce, and aid from other countries was blocked by the Israeli army at the Rafah crossing, preventing it from reaching the general public. But the most painful reality for me was that it was the longest period I had ever gone without drawing. I desperately needed to create, but I could not find art supplies. All I had at hand was a pen and some white paper. I urgently needed to draw to relieve my stress, so I settled for those. To my surprise, the resulting drawing is the most beautiful art I had ever created! But it is also the most painful. It is a drawing of a woman's face peering through a hole in the shape of Palestine, as if ripped in the paper, her eyes lifted to the heavens in agonised prayer. The woman is me. I titled it Searching for Home because, at that moment, what I yearned for most was home. And finding it felt like the most difficult, if not impossible, task. In April 2024, I talked with my family about the possibility of leaving Gaza to resume what the war had forced me to pause. My family have always been my biggest supporters. They love my artwork and eagerly await each new creation. They were also thrilled about my graduation from the faculty of dentistry and looked forward to being my patients. Thus, they wholeheartedly supported my decision to leave Gaza to complete my dental training and continue my artistic pursuits, believing I could then fulfil my dream of bringing smiles to others. You might wonder why we couldn't all leave together. Leaving the Gaza Strip costs about £3,800 per person (to pay the 'coordination fee' required by the Egyptians to cross the border). To save my family of eight, the total would be £30,000. This is an unachievable amount given the circumstances of the war and the halt in economic activity. Leaving my family behind was the hardest decision I've ever faced. So, I travelled to Egypt to save myself, while leaving my family behind in Gaza amid the ongoing war. I didn't fully grasp the implications of this decision until I left, and my thoughts have been conflicted ever since. I am considered a survivor, but what does survival mean if I am not with my family? What is the value of surviving if it means leaving them behind? Should anyone have to make that kind of sacrifice? It seems that to learn and build a future, a Palestinian must give up a great deal. Every day, I wake up feeling guilty. Was my decision the right one? When will the war end? Do I have the right to live a decent life while my family in Gaza endures such hardship? A Palestinian begins to question whether they have the right to a normal, 'human' life. Nevertheless, I hold on to the hope that I can eventually bring my family here to join me. I've enrolled in a university and started to rebuild an artistic life. My painting, Searching for Home, travelled with me. Today marks three months in Cairo for me. I feel guilty and helpless every day. My communication with my family is very limited due to their weak internet connection. The lack of constant connection with them is difficult to bear. However, I remind myself that I travelled for their sake. My future is intertwined with theirs. I hope I can someday repay them for all they've done. Despite losing the paintings I spent 10 years creating, I remain committed to my dream of opening my own gallery. I believe I still have a lifetime ahead of me to achieve my goals, and I will make it happen. This is the nature of the Palestinian people. We are accustomed to losing, but also to surviving. Gaza, my homeland: it breaks my heart to see you in this state. You have always been the warm embrace that nurtured us, no matter the adversity. We love you in all your conditions – whether in peace or in war. We are committed to rebuilding you into a loving home once again. You deserve our loyalty, and we will remain steadfast. Your freedom is near, so do not fear. Aya is now in Egypt and is exhibiting her art at galleries abroad. Her family remain in Gaza but have not yet been able to return to the north. When they finally do, they know that there is really no home to return to. Their house, like so many others, no longer exists. Her goal is to reunite with her family in Cairo. But to bring them out of Gaza once the border opens, she needs a minimum of $10,000.
Al Jazeera
10-04-2025
- General
- Al Jazeera
Photos: Bombed-out Gaza university becomes shelter for displaced people
One of the Strip's largest universities, the Islamic University of Gaza in Gaza City had about 17,000 students before the war, studying everything from medicine and chemistry to literature and commerce. More than 60 percent of the students were women. But now, any sense that the place was once a university is gone. After 18 months of Israeli bombardment that killed more than 50,000 people in the enclave, the main auditorium is a gutted, burned-out wreck. Giant holes have been blasted through its blackened walls. The banks of seats are mangled and twisted. The campus has become a refuge for hundreds of families in northern Gaza since Israel broke a ceasefire on March 18 and relaunched the war. Families have set up tents in lecture halls and classrooms. They take books from the library and burn them in cooking fires because they have no fuel. Children run around in gardens reduced to fields of debris and mounds of earth. A makeshift market has been set up under the archway of the main gate. Their struggle to survive has worsened because Israel has cut off the entry of food, fuel, medicine and all other goods into Gaza for more than a month, straining the limited supplies of aid agencies on which nearly the entire population relies.
