There was a time when the first crescent of Ramadan rose over Gaza like a silver promise—soft, luminous, and full of mercy. The air itself seemed to shift. Streets glowed with strings of colored lanterns; bakeries perfumed the night with the scent of pastries; children ran home clutching sweets, their laughter weaving through the alleys…
I am one of thousands of Palestinian students who have been abruptly stripped of our classrooms, books, teachers—and certainty about the future. I write these words from Gaza, where education has shifted from a guaranteed right to a fragile hope. For more than two years, prolonged hostilities have devastated civilian life. Schools have been damaged…

