Education is more than classrooms and books. It is safety, stability, and the freedom to dream. Ten months after the ceasefire, children in southern Lebanon still have none.
Every September, villages along Lebanon’s southern border used to welcome the new school year with familiar rituals: children’s voices filling the schoolyards, mothers accompanying their sons and daughters on the first day, crisp notebooks tucked under arms, and brightly colored backpacks on little shoulders. . For the children in this region, who have long been paying the price for their geographical location, school was one of the few stable activities in their lives. But this year, the scene looked completely different. More than ten months after the cessation of hostilities — which began in October 2023, escalated in September 2024, and formally ended in November 2024 — education in the south continues to falter between destruction and displacement.
The damage left by the war was not confined to buildings reduced to rubble or shattered roads. The end of airstrikes marked the beginning of a longer, harsher journey: the journey to restore life to what it was before October 2024.
Nadia Al-Amin, a student in Grade 9 Brevet from the border town of Khiam, recounts the ongoing anxiety she experienced:
“Before the war began on October 8, 2023, I attended the Issa Ibn Maryam School, part of the Mabarat Foundation in Khiam. After months of bombing, we were forced to flee - even before the conflict spread to other areas of the south, the Bekaa, and Beirut. From the very first displacement, the struggle began,” she says. “Our first displacement was to the city of Nabatieh, where another school under the Mabarat Foundation accepted us into its classes after roughly two weeks of being out of school due to administrative and logistical reasons we didn’t understand as students. Months later, when the war expanded across the south, we were forced to flee again to the southern suburbs of Beirut, then to a town called Shheem in Mount Lebanon. During all this time, we studied remotely under extremely difficult conditions and with very poor internet. When the previous school year ended, I thought the suffering was over, but upon returning to my hometown after the war, I was surprised that my primary school had decided to open classes only for English-stream students., As a French-stream student, I was left in Nabatieh, 25 kilometers away. The daily journey is unsafe and remains under threat from Israeli attacks. .”
Nadia’s story reflects thousands of southern students caught in a cycle of displacement, losing their educational stability with every relocation, as well as the sense of safety that comes with daily routine.
International Reports Highlight the Scale of the Crisis
This reality has drawn international concern. In a report issued in early August, Human Rights Watch documented evidence of Israeli military occupation and destruction of several official schools in the south, even in the weeks following the ceasefire declaration. UNICEF also revealed that more than 100 schools in the south, mostly in border villages, were either completely destroyed or severely damaged since the outbreak of the war, prompting UNICEF to declare, “Children in Lebanon are paying the price of the intensified conflict in the south.”
The economic toll is staggering. . A report by the World Bank in cooperation with Lebanon’s National Council for Scientific Research estimated the damage to educational infrastructure at around $151 million. This includes 25 fully destroyed public schools and 120 partially damaged ones. Private schools fared slightly better, with 34 completely destroyed and 173 partially damaged. These figures not only show the material loss but also reflect a dim future for an entire generation of students in a relatively small geographic area.
Teachers Also Bear the Brunt of the Crisis
The crisis has not spared teachers. Most lost their jobs entirely or were forced to commute long distances. Nehme Mahfoud, the head of the Lebanese Teachers’ Syndicate, commented: “The problem today exists only in the southern border villages, in both public and private education. The Ministry has told us that it will relocate these schools to safer towns or villages and will strive to provide seats for all students from these areas.”
Regarding teachers’ situation, Mahfoud said: “Teachers were also transferred to other schools. The focus was on hourly-contract teachers to ensure they could continue working, as they themselves are from the damaged villages and rely on their jobs more than ever.”
For many, the struggle to teach is inseparable from the struggle to educate their own children: : not only have they lost their classrooms, but many are also parents struggling to educate their own children. Many describe their daily journeys to alternative schools as “a journey of patience,” navigating dangerous roads and bearing transportation costs that weigh heavily on already low salaries, amid Lebanon’s ongoing economic crisis since 2019.
Local Initiatives Fill the Gaps Left by the State
In the absence of comprehensive state solutions, local initiatives have emerged. Community groups have repaired classrooms with limited means;; expatriates funded the rental of buildings as temporary schools; and families have taken turns teaching the children of their villages. Although modest, these initiatives have offered students a chance to continue their education, even if only in part.
In the small southern town of Houla, classes were set up inside a converted house, where children focused on learning. Ali Taher, one of the parents, said, “We can live without electricity and sometimes without water, but we cannot deprive our children of education.”
Ramia: A Model of Failure
The village of Ramia highlights the depth of the crisis. Its only public school did not open as usual, despite efforts to repair it, due to the poor security situation. Abbas Issa, the town mayor, explains:
“We relocated the school to the city of Sour, renting a building funded by one of the town’s residents, due to the government’s lack of response, because the government and the Ministry of Education failed to act.”
Ramia is not alone. In other villages, students were forced to travel long distances for schooling, turning daily education into a grueling journey. Some stopped attending entirely because roads were dangerous or families could not afford transportation costs.
Long-Term Psychological Impact
The damage to schools has deprived children of the spaces where they spend a significant portion of their day and form social bonds. Their sense of comfort was replaced by trauma from displacement and the constant sounds of conflict.
Discussions with parents and teachers reveal widespread concern about students’ mental health. Suad Qubaisi, a teacher in Nabatieh who received displaced children from border villages, observed that “children’s behavior has become aggressive during class discussions and even in playground interactions. Motivation to learn is nearly nonexistent.”
Qubaisi’s testimony illustrates that the post-war challenge is not only rebuilding schools but also restoring children’s psychological well-being; a process that may take years without formal educational and psychological support programs. Otherwise, the memory of war will remain imprinted, following them into every new classroom.
The educational sector in Lebanon’s southern border villages represents one of the most profound humanitarian and social losses of the recent war. Statistics reveal part of the tragedy, but the faces of exhausted children and teachers tell the rest. Promises abound, but reality shows that returning to normal schooling, or even a semblance of normal life, is still a distant dream. Current plans and local initiatives, though valuable, are not enough to safely reintegrate students and teachers into classrooms.
Reporting Lebanon is a collaborative storytelling project that brings together independent Lebanese journalists to document everyday life in a country shaped by war, displacement, and prolonged instability. Through in-depth reportages and narrative-driven features, the project focuses on the human, social, and psychological realities that have unfolded in the aftermath of the 2023–2024 escalation – at a time when violence has formally subsided in parts of the country, yet insecurity and uncertainty persist. Rather than offering situational reports, Reporting Lebanon prioritizes long-form journalism that stays close to its protagonists. The project seeks to capture how people experience, remember, and endure war – and how its consequences continue to shape daily life long after the headlines fade. Reporting Lebanon is a cooperation between the Friedrich-Ebert-Stiftung (FES) and zenith.
