In the southern Idlib countryside of Syria, a quiet but determined return is underway. After years of exile caused by the grinding civil war, families are trickling back to their villages, seeking to reclaim lives disrupted by violence and uncertainty. The scars of conflict are everywhere—none more visible than in the shattered shells of what were once bustling schools. For many, reopening these schools is more than a logistical challenge; it is a symbol of hope and a vital step toward rebuilding community life.
Maar Shamarin, a small town that sat on the frontlines for years, tells this story in microcosm. The al-Jurok family, like so many others, fled when Assad’s forces seized control. The years in displacement camps were harsh, but the fall of former President Bashar Assad in a rebel offensive in December 2024 gave them an opportunity to return. Yet, as they set up their tent beside the ruins of their old home, the reality of what awaited them became painfully clear.
The local elementary school, which reopened last month, stands as a testament to both resilience and neglect. Its L-shaped structure is riddled with bullet holes, the paint peels in strips of gray and blue, and sunlight pours through gaping window frames where glass once kept out the elements. There are no desks, no chairs, and no running water. Students—among them the three al-Jurok children—sit cross-legged on thin blankets, backs pressed to the cold walls. "If it rains, it’ll rain on my children," Safiya al-Jurok told the Associated Press, her voice heavy with concern. "The school doesn’t even have running water."
Principal Abdullah Hallak describes the situation with a mix of pride and frustration. The building, he says, has lost nearly everything—desks, windows, doors, and even the steel reinforcing bars have been looted. "Our kids are coming here where there are no seats, no boards and no windows and as you know, winter is coming," Hallak explained. "Some parents call us to complain that their kids are getting sick sitting on the floor, so they have them skip school."
The scale of the challenge facing Syria’s education system is daunting. According to Deputy Education Minister Youssef Annan, 40% of schools across the country remain destroyed, with the worst devastation in rural Idlib and Hama—areas that bore the brunt of the fighting. In Idlib alone, 350 schools are out of service, and only about 10% have been rehabilitated as of October 2025. Annan notes that "many schools were stripped bare, with iron stolen from roofs and structures, requiring years and significant funds to rebuild."
The new school year began in mid-September 2025, accompanied by an emergency education plan. Yet, the scale of need quickly outpaces available resources. Hallak says Maar Shamarin Elementary now hosts around 450 students from first to fourth grade, but demand keeps growing. "We have more students applying, but there is no more space," he said.
For many children, the return to school is bittersweet. Teacher Bayan al-Ibrahim sees the toll that years of displacement have taken on her students. "Some families had been displaced to areas where education wasn’t supported or their circumstances didn’t allow them to follow up on their kids’ education," she explained. The lack of seating and school materials makes it harder for teachers to maintain order and for parents to stay involved. "There are no books, so parents aren’t aware what their kids are studying," she added.
Across Syria, the numbers are staggering. Annan estimates that 4 million students are currently enrolled in school, but UNICEF’s representative in Syria, Meritxell Relaño Arana, reports that roughly 2.5 to 3 million children remain out of school. "The access to education by many children in Syria is difficult. Many of the schools have been destroyed, many of the teachers did not go back to educate and many of the children don’t even have money to buy the school materials," Relaño Arana told the Associated Press.
This is certainly true for the al-Jurok family. "My eldest daughter is very smart and loves to study, but we can’t buy books," Safiya al-Jurok said, mentioning that her children help pick olives after school to help the family, which now relies on olive oil production to make ends meet.
The Syrian Ministry of Education has announced plans to launch a remote learning program to help expand access, but Annan cautions that it "requires more time" and hasn’t yet been implemented. In the meantime, the ministry’s emergency plan focuses on accommodating the growing number of returnee students and making the most of what little infrastructure remains.
International organizations are stepping in to help. UNICEF is working to rebuild schools, provide temporary classrooms, and train teachers to ensure quality education. The challenge is urgent: more than one million refugees have returned to Syria as of October 2025, according to the U.N. refugee agency. As these families come back, the strain on already limited resources intensifies.
But the needs go beyond bricks and mortar. Relaño Arana emphasizes the psychological impact of the conflict on Syria’s children. "Many children were traumatized by years of conflict, so they need to go back to safe schools where psychosocial support is available," she said. UNICEF is offering catch-up classes to help students who missed years of schooling reintegrate into the education system.
Repairing and reopening schools is widely recognized as a key to the return of displaced people. Without functioning schools, many families are reluctant to come home, fearing that their children will fall even further behind. The lack of educational opportunity threatens not just individual futures, but the long-term recovery of the country itself.
Millions of children in Syria remain out of school, while others attend classes in gutted buildings without basic supplies, as highlighted by a recent photo gallery curated by AP photo editors. These images, stark and unfiltered, capture the resilience of children and teachers who persist in the face of unimaginable hardship.
Despite the grim conditions, there are glimmers of hope. The reopening of even a single school, no matter how battered, is a signal that life is inching back toward normalcy. As families like the al-Juroks return to their villages and children resume their studies—however makeshift the setting—the seeds of Syria’s recovery are being sown, one classroom at a time.
