I borrow equipment from my reporting colleagues so that I can get close to sources and protect myself from shrapnel.

What happens when the documents proving ownership of our home are destroyed, along with our home?

Just as my grandfather was forced off his land in 1948, we were forced from ours in 2025. We live with the hope of returning to our home, as he hoped to return to his.

Listening to my students, I feel as though I am standing between their childhoods and the war, trying to help them build a bridge towards hope.

My time spent teaching children in a tent added valuable information to my research on wartime schooling alternatives.

I am not even allowed to go back to see what has become of my house and school.

The renowned meeting place became a shelter, was reduced to rubble, and then turned into a theater for tents. What next? We will rebuild it.

After our house was destroyed, I transformed our shelter tent into a classroom to teach children who had been deprived of education.

Once a symbol of academic excellence and a beacon of hope, the Islamic University has become a center of refuge.

Teaching gave me purpose during war when I transformed a room in the house where I was displaced into a small school.

A young scholar pushes forward to complete a research project and enter it in competition despite living in a war.

Shaimaa has always seen life differently — beautifully — and focused on the positive, no matter the hardship.