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In Gaza, 5,000 Children Search for their Lost Wings

Despite years lost, collapsed schools, and wounded children, education must resume in Gaza.

Children playing atop a building in 2011. PHOTO: United Nations

How many times must one die to live?

In Gaza, the ceasefire remains fragile and unstable. Two nights ago, in just 12 hours, a new violation of the ceasefire claimed the lives of more than 100 people, including 35 children. Families live in fear and ruins, trying to preserve some semblance of life.

The extermination has ended, but its traces remain visible everywhere.

Thousands of children continue to search for what has been stolen from them: their childhood, their security, and the hope of a normal future.

Most schools have been severely damaged, and some have been turned into shelters for displaced families. Ruined schools, classrooms turned into refuges, and unfinished notebooks bear witness to broken lives.

These children have lost several years of education, and the resumption of school life faces many obstacles, including destroyed infrastructure, a lack of materials, and insufficient learning spaces.

The memory of lost children

The war left behind more than ruins: it took away the innocence of 18,000 children, and around 5,000 were seriously injured, losing an arm or a leg or suffering permanent injuries.

Each child bears the scars of a stolen childhood on their bodies and in their hearts. Their interrupted dreams, suspended games, and fragments of broken innocence bear witness to the horror they have endured.

Sarah’s family is raising money to leave Gaza. You can donate here.

In the death toll, each number represented a life, a smile, a dream, a possible future. Each one was a universe in the making: laughter never heard, voices that will never tell their stories, life plans reduced to ashes. They are not statistics: they are lost children and stolen promises.

Even after the war ended, the void left by these children is felt everywhere in Gaza. Their friends and siblings carry the memory of every smile that has been extinguished and every dream that has been cut short.

Wounded children and stolen dreams

And 5,000 children bear the visible scars of the extermination on their bodies: wounds that will mark them forever. The war left them mutilated, but alive.

Nine-year-old Youssef lost his left leg under the rubble. His dream was to become a soccer player and run on a real field with his friends. Today, every ball he sees reminds him of his lost leg, and when he hears other children playing in the street, he cries, clutching his prosthesis, wishing he could run like before.

Sixteen-year-old Lina lost an arm and a leg when her school, which had been turned into a shelter, collapsed. She dreamed of becoming a doctor, of caring for others and restoring health to those around her. Today, every daily gesture reminds her of her lost limbs, and she looks at her notebooks and school supplies, sometimes crying for the dreams that the war has stolen from her.

Despite everything, Lina continues to learn and smile when she can, refusing to let the war extinguish her hope.

Hope remains young

These children are living testimonies: their lives have been marked, but they have an incredible will to continue to exist and to hope. Each scar tells a story, each smile regained is an act of resistance against oblivion.

The war stole years of childhood and scattered fragments of life, but it did not kill hope.

Children still dream of becoming engineers, doctors, or teachers. Every notebook opened, every word learned is a step toward rebuilding a generation stolen and scattered by war, thanks to their own courage and determination.

In Gaza, the end of extermination does not mean the end of suffering. The 5,000 wounded children are still searching for their wings and the lost fragments of their childhood, amid ruins, temporary classrooms, and painful memories.

It is our duty to tell their story, to defend their right to education and safety, and to remind the world that every child deserves life, education, and hope.

Would you like to contribute to a campaign to support children who have lost limbs? Because children are the present and the future.

Sarah’s family is raising money to leave Gaza. You can donate here.

Author

Sarah Emad al-Zaq is a creative content writer, essayist, and translator from Gaza. She writes from the heart of genocide, from the heart of hunger and destruction. Through her writing, she wants to find her voice and preserve her story.

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