[Damascus] When a shell hit the gym behind the elementary school in Harasta, outside Damascus, 12-year-old Ahmad was playing soccer with his friends, unaware the blast would change their day. He returned home trembling, hearing his mother stifle her tears and watching smoke rise from the school that was his hope for the future. The building was rubble, classrooms were abandoned, and the desks that once held his dreams were gone.
Across Syria, scenes like this have gutted education. Millions of students have been pushed out of school, families face impossible choices, and a new academic year opens under shortages of space, staff, and supplies.
According to the Syrian Ministry of Education’s latest figures, the country has about 19,400 schools, of which roughly 7,900 are totally or partially destroyed; about 40% are out of service. In Deir ez-Zor province alone, 63 schools are completely destroyed, and 23 are reported to have been used as military sites by Iran-backed forces and allied militias—leaving 86 out of service there.
Tragedies have punctuated this collapse. In 2014, a suicide bomber carried out a double explosion near the gate of Homs’ Akrama al-Makhzumi Al-Muhdatha elementary school, killing 54 people, including 47 children. Schools in the city of Arihah, in Idlib province, were bombed on Nov. 4, 2020, partially destroying the schoolyard and facilities.
I was teaching my students how history is written, but for years, it was twisted to serve an ideology
Teachers describe a mission that has only grown heavier. Professor Marwan Abdul Karim, a history teacher in Idlib’s countryside, told The Media Line: “I was teaching my students how history is written, but for years, it was twisted to serve an ideology. After watching schools destroyed—and learning that shells do not distinguish between a student and a political symbol—I feel my mission has doubled: to teach facts and spark curiosity, not to dictate ready-made answers.”
Give the gift of hope
We practice what we preach:
accurate, fearless journalism. But we can't do it alone.
- On the ground in Gaza, Syria, Israel, Egypt, Pakistan, and more
- Our program trained more than 100 journalists
- Calling out fake news and reporting real facts
- On the ground in Gaza, Syria, Israel, Egypt, Pakistan, and more
- Our program trained more than 100 journalists
- Calling out fake news and reporting real facts
Join us.
Support The Media Line. Save democracy.
One notebook for each child, a new uniform at the start of every school year—those simple things have become a distant dream
Parents recount the daily arithmetic of loss and sacrifice. Abu Mazen of Deir ez-Zor, a father of three, told The Media Line: “One notebook for each child, a new uniform at the start of every school year—those simple things have become a distant dream. … But despite fear and deprivation, education is the one thing I refuse to let be taken from us.”
Displaced families carry those worries with them. Um Samer, a former teacher, said in an interview with The Media Line: “I fear for my children when they hear the sound of planes or when a shell falls on their school. … I worry the school is safe only on paper, while in reality not every school has been rebuilt and not every neighborhood is safe yet.”
Schoolbooks, classrooms, and school façades once carried pictures of Bashar Assad, and students and teachers were required to greet him each morning; today, those images are gone in many areas after curriculum changes.
My heart is happy because I will go to school without fear of being silenced or told, ‘This is all we learn.’
Children still voice a hunger to learn. Leila, an 11-year-old student from a camp near Homs, told The Media Line: “I love to learn, to write and to read, and to understand why history changed. … My heart is happy because I will go to school without fear of being silenced or told, ‘This is all we learn.’”
Obstacles remain steep: rebuilding thousands of classrooms will take years; qualified teachers are scarce in the hardest-hit districts; and trauma from bombing, displacement, and loss burdens students’ ability to concentrate. United Nations agencies, including UNICEF and UNESCO, have urged expanded psychosocial support and safe-learning programs alongside basic repairs.
Some educators refuse to yield to the wreckage. Mahmoud, an English teacher from Kafr Nabl in Idlib’s countryside who taught for free for years despite bombing, has returned to an official post. Speaking to The Media Line, he said: “I have been appointed as an English teacher at a school near my home. True, the school is destroyed, but education is the most important thing students can receive. They are a trust in our care.”
Costs compound the crisis. A regular notebook can run the equivalent of a full day’s wages, and a school bag can exceed half a government worker’s salary, prompting families to reuse old notebooks and share pens. Abu Salim, the father of two girls in primary school, told The Media Line: “We used to go to the market and happily buy notebooks and crayons for our children, but now we stand before the vendor counting every item. My daughter asked for a box of crayons, but it cost half the money I had, so I could buy her only three colored pencils.”
Hope, nonetheless, threads through the rubble. Educators, local councils, and NGOs say priorities in the coming months include repairing classrooms before winter, expanding catch-up classes, and scaling up counseling—small steps toward turning schools back into bridges, not battlefields.