shelters

About 300,000 UNRWA pupils have been deprived of a formal education since Israel’s war on Gaza began in October 2023.

Gaza’s classrooms are slowly coming back to life, following two years of relentless Israeli war and devastation that has destroyed the Palestinian enclave’s fabric of daily life: Homes, hospitals and schools.

Four weeks into the United States-brokered ceasefire in Gaza, the UN Relief and Works Agency for Palestine Refugees (UNRWA) is in the process of reopening schools across the territory amid ongoing Israeli bombardment and heavy restrictions on the flow of aid.

Since October 2023, more than 300,000 UNRWA students have been deprived of a formal education, while 97 percent of the agency’s school buildings have been damaged or destroyed by the fighting.

What were once centres of education are now also being used as shelters by hundreds of displaced families.

Reporting from the central city of Deir el-Balah, Al Jazeera’s Tareq Abu Azzoum found families sharing classrooms with children striving to reclaim their futures.

Inam al-Maghari, one of the Palestinian students who has resumed lessons, spoke to Al Jazeera about the toll Israel’s war on Gaza has had on her education.

“I used to study before, but we have been away from school for two years. I didn’t complete my second and third grades, and now I’m in fourth grade, but I feel like I know nothing,” al-Maghari said.

“Today, we brought mattresses instead of desks to sit and study,” she added.

UNRWA is hoping to expand its educational services in the coming weeks, according to Enas Hamdan, the head of its communication office.

“UNRWA strives to provide face-to-face education through its temporary safe learning spaces for more than 62,000 students in Gaza,” Hamdan said.

“We are working to expand these activities across 67 sheltering schools throughout the Strip. Additionally, we continue to provide online learning for 300,000 students in Gaza.”

Um Mahmoud, a displaced Palestinian, explained how she and her family vacate the room they are staying in three times a week to allow students to study.

“We vacate the classrooms to give the children a chance to learn because education is vital,” Um Mahmoud said. “We’re prioritising learning and hope that conditions will improve, allowing for better quality of education.”

The war in Gaza has taken an immense toll on children, with psychologists warning that more than 80 percent of them now show symptoms of severe trauma.

The UN children’s agency UNICEF has estimated that more than 64,000 children have been killed or injured in Gaza during the fighting.

Edouard Beigbeder, UNICEF’s Middle East and North Africa regional director, said “one million children have endured the daily horrors of surviving in the world’s most dangerous place to be a child, leaving them with wounds of fear, loss and grief.”

Israel is ethnically cleansing the central neighborhood of Zeitoun in Gaza by bombing homes and displacement centres.

Since announcing plans to invade northern Gaza and expel Palestinians again to the south, Israel has attacked displacement shelters in the Gaza City neighbourhood of Zeitoun, according to an investigation by Sanad, Al Jazeera’s verification unit.

Since August 13, Sanad has found that Israel stepped up the bombardment and shelling of Zeitoun, and often directly hit displacement shelters.

The siege and ongoing violence have compelled thousands of Palestinians to close their tents in the camps and flee further south, according to satellite imagery obtained by Sanad.

The indiscriminate bombardment of civilian homes and displacement shelters is part of a broad pattern of Israeli war tactics that make no distinction between civilians and fighters.

Human rights groups, United Nations experts and numerous legal scholars believe Israel’s nearly two-year war on Gaza amounts to genocide.

Israel’s Western allies – who have long defended it from criticism by claiming it has the “right to defend itself” – are becoming increasingly alarmed at the humanitarian crisis unfolding in the enclave.

Many are calling on Israel to end the war and warning that its plan to seize northern Gaza could further exacerbate the suffering of civilians. The mass displacement and bombardment of Zeitoun encapsulate the atrocities resulting from Israel’s invasion.

Attacking shelters

There are about 11 displacement shelters in Zeitoun, each sheltering 4,000 to 4,500 besieged and hungry Palestinians.

Most live on just 3.2sq km (1.2sq miles), which makes up just 32 percent of the pre-war size of Zeitoun.

At the start of the war, Israel dug trenches in and around the neighbourhood, claiming it was creating a ‘buffer zone”, and built the Netzarim Corridor, which has split Gaza into two zones.

Israel’s recent bombardment of the neighbourhood is terrifying civilians into fleeing south, leading to another cycle of forced displacement that may amount to ethnic cleansing due to Israel’s attempt to destroy all livable facilities and structures.

An Al Jazeera journalist on the ground recently captured footage of Israel firing a missile directly at a home in Zeitoun.

While it is unclear whether anyone was inside, it is clear that all structures are being levelled, possibly to make it more difficult for any survivors to try to relocate to the area.

According to Sanad, there is clear evidence that Israel is pursuing that policy in and around Zeitoun. Between August 11 and 16, sources documented Israel’s attack on al-Falah School in Zeitoun and a tent camp on al-Lababidi Street.

Both the Majida al-Wasila school in the Nassr neighbourhood and tents in the Sheikh Ajilin neighbourhood were also hit.

This pattern of direct attacks on tents and school shelters – the last refuge for hundreds of thousands of Palestinians – may amount to war crimes and crimes against humanity, since these structures are protected under international humanitarian law.

Desperate evacuees, huddled on plastic mats in a sports hall in Thailand, have described fleeing from thunderous artillery bombardments as heavy fighting has escalated between Thailand and Cambodia.

The worst fighting in more than a decade between the neighbouring countries has forced more than 100,000 people to evacuate from their homes across four Thai border provinces by Friday.

As artillery fire echoed on Thursday, thousands from northeastern Surin province abandoned their homes for makeshift shelters established in the town centre.

Nearly 3,000 people crowded the sports hall of Surindra Rajabhat University, packed onto rows of plastic mats covered with colourful blankets and hastily gathered possessions.

“I’m worried about our home, our animals, and the crops we’ve worked so hard on,” Thidarat Homhuan, 37, told the AFP news agency.

She evacuated with nine family members, including her 87-year-old grandmother who had just been released from hospital.

“That concern is still there. But being here does feel safer, since we’re further from the danger zone now. At least we’re safe,” she said.

Thidarat was babysitting at a local school when she heard what she described as “something like machinegun fire”, followed by heavy artillery thuds.

“It was chaos. The kids were terrified. I rushed to the school’s bunker,” she said.

Inside the shelter, evacuees slept alongside one another beneath the gym’s high ceiling, surrounded by electric fans humming and the quiet whispers of uncertainty.

Elderly residents lay wrapped in blankets, infants slept in cradles, while children played quietly. Pet cats rested in mesh crates near the public restroom.

This marks the first full activation of the university as a shelter, according to Chai Samoraphum, director of the university president’s office.

Classes were immediately cancelled, and within an hour, the campus transformed into a functioning evacuation centre.

Evacuees from four border districts were distributed across six locations throughout the campus.

“Most of them left in a hurry. Some have chronic health conditions but didn’t bring their medications, others only managed to grab a few belongings,” Chai told AFP.

The centre, with assistance from the provincial hospital, is providing care for those with chronic illnesses and offering mental health services for trauma victims, Chai explained.

The border fighting has killed at least 14 people in Thailand, including one soldier and civilians killed in a rocket strike near a Sisaket province petrol station, officials reported. One Cambodian has also been confirmed killed.

As fighting continues near the border, evacuees face uncertainty about when they can return home.

For now, the shelter provides safety and a place to await signals that it’s safe to “go back to normal life”, Thidarat said.

She already has a message for the authorities: “I want the government to take decisive action – do not wait until lives are lost.

“Civilians look up to the government for protection, and we rely on them deeply,” she said.

Across the border in Cambodia, about 20,000 residents have evacuated from the country’s northern border with Thailand, the Khmer Times news organisation said, quoting officials in Cambodia’s Preah Vihear province.

When Iranian missiles began raining down on Israel, many residents scrambled for cover. Sirens wailed across the country as people rushed into bomb shelters.

But for some Palestinian citizens of Israel – two million people, or roughly 21 percent of the population – doors were slammed shut, not by the force of the blasts and not by enemies, but by neighbours and fellow citizens.

Mostly living in cities, towns, and villages within Israel’s internationally recognised borders, many Palestinian citizens of Israel found themselves excluded from life-saving infrastructure during the worst nights of the Iran-Israel conflict to date.

For Samar al-Rashed, a 29-year-old single mother living in a mostly Jewish apartment complex near Acre, the reality of that exclusion came on Friday night. Samar was at home with her five-year-old daughter, Jihan. As sirens pierced the air, warning of incoming missiles, she grabbed her daughter and rushed for the building’s shelter.

“I didn’t have time to pack anything,” she recalled. “Just water, our phones, and my daughter’s hand in mine.”

The panicking mother tried to ease her daughter’s fear, while hiding her own, gently encouraging her in soft-spoken Arabic to keep up with her rushed steps towards the shelter, as other neighbours climbed down the stairs, too.

But at the shelter door, she said, an Israeli resident, having heard her speak Arabic, blocked their entry – and shut it in their faces.

“I was stunned,” she said. “I speak Hebrew fluently. I tried to explain. But he looked at me with contempt and just said, ‘Not for you.’”

In that moment, Samar said, the deep fault lines of Israeli society were laid bare. Climbing back to her flat and looking at the distant missiles lighting up the skies, and occasionally colliding with the ground, she was terrified by both the sight, and by her neighbours.

A history of exclusion

Palestinian citizens of Israel have long faced systemic discrimination – in housing, education, employment, and state services. Despite holding Israeli citizenship, they are often treated as second-class citizens, and their loyalty is routinely questioned in public discourse.

According to Adalah-The Legal Center for Arab Minority Rights in Israel, more than 65 laws directly or indirectly discriminate against Palestinian citizens. The nation-state law passed in 2018 cemented this disparity by defining Israel as the “nation-state of the Jewish people”, a move critics say institutionalised apartheid.

In times of war, that discrimination often intensifies.

Palestinian citizens of Israel are frequently subjected to discriminatory policing and restrictions during periods of conflict, including arrest for social media posts, denial of access to shelters, and verbal abuse in mixed cities.

Many have already reported experiencing such discrimination.

In Haifa, 33-year-old Mohammed Dabdoob was working at his mobile repair shop Saturday evening when phones simultaneously all rang with the sound of alerts, triggering his anxiety. He tried to finish fixing a broken phone, which delayed him. He then rushed to close the shop and ran towards the nearest public shelter, beneath a building behind his shop. Approaching the shelter, he found its sturdy door locked.

“I tried the code. It didn’t work. I banged on the door, called on those inside to open – in Hebrew – and waited. No one opened,” he said. Moments later, a missile exploded nearby, shattering glass across the street. “I thought I was going to die.”

“There was smoke and screaming, and after a quarter of an hour, all we could hear were the sounds of the police and the ambulance. The scene was terrifying, as if I were living a nightmare similar to what happened at the Port of Beirut,” he added, referring to the 2020 Beirut port explosion.

Frozen by sheer fear and shock, Mohammed watched from his hiding place in a nearby parking lot as the chaos unfolded, and soon enough, the shelter’s door opened. As those who were inside the shelter began trickling out, he looked at them silently.

“There’s no real safety for us,” he said. “Not from the missiles, and not from the people who are supposed to be our neighbours.”

Discrimination in shelter access

In theory, all citizens of Israel should have equal access to public safety measures – including bomb shelters. In practice, the picture is very different.

Palestinian towns and villages in Israel have significantly fewer protected spaces than Jewish localities. According to a 2022 report by Israel’s State Comptroller quoted by the newspaper Haaretz, more than 70 percent of homes in Palestinian communities in Israel lack a safe room or space that is up to code, compared to 25 percent of Jewish homes. Municipalities often receive less funding for civil defence, and older buildings go without the required reinforcements.

Even in mixed cities like Lydd (Lod), where Jewish and Palestinian residents live side by side, inequality is pronounced.

Yara Srour, a 22-year-old nursing student at Hebrew University, lives in the neglected neighbourhood of al-Mahatta in Lydd. Her family’s three-storey building, which is around four decades old, lacks official permits and a shelter. Following the heavy Iranian bombardment they witnessed on Saturday evening, which shocked the world around them, the family tried early on Sunday to flee to a safer part of the city.

“We went to the new part of Lydd where there are proper shelters,” Yara said, adding that her 48-year-old mother, who suffers from weak knees, was struggling to move. “Yet, they wouldn’t let us in. Jews from poorer areas were also turned away. It was only for the ‘new residents’ — those in the modern buildings, mostly middle-class Jewish families.”

Yara recalls the horror vividly.

“My mother has joint problems and couldn’t run like the rest of us,” she said. “We were begging, knocking on doors. But people just looked at us through peepholes and ignored us, while we saw the sky light up with fires of intercepted rockets.”

Fear, trauma and anger

Samar said the experience of being turned away from a shelter with her daughter left a psychological scar.

“That night, I felt completely alone,” she said. “I didn’t report it to the police – what’s the point? They wouldn’t have done anything.”

Later that evening, a villa in Tamra was hit, killing four women from the same family. From her balcony, Samar watched smoke rise into the sky.

“It felt like the end of the world,” she said. “And still, even under attack, we’re treated as a threat, not as people.”

She has since moved with her daughter to her parents’ home in Daburiyya, a village in the Lower Galilee. Together, they can now huddle in a reinforced room. With the alerts coming every few hours, Samar is thinking of fleeing to Jordan.

“I wanted to protect Jihan. She doesn’t know this world yet. But I also didn’t want to leave my land. That’s the dilemma for us – survive, or stay and suffer.”

While Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu stated after the attacks that “Iran’s missiles target all of Israel – Jews and Arabs alike,” the reality on the ground told a different story.

Even before the war, Palestinian citizens of Israel were disproportionately arrested for expressing political views or reacting to the attacks. Some were detained merely for posting emojis on social media. In contrast, calls for vigilante violence against Palestinians in online forums were largely ignored.

“The state expects our loyalty in war,” said Mohammed Dabdoob. “But when it’s time to protect us, we’re invisible.”

For Samar, Yara, Mohammed, and thousands like them, the message is clear: they are citizens on paper, but strangers in practice.

“I want safety like anyone else,” said Yara. “I’m studying to become a nurse. I want to help people. But how can I serve a country that won’t protect my mother?”

This piece was published in collaboration with Egab.

Staycee Dains was about a month into her job overseeing the Los Angeles city animal shelters when an employee openly defied her.

Dains asked the employee to clean a kennel. Instead, the employee picked up a hose and sprayed a dog in the face, Dains said.

Dains thought the employee should be fired, but she said the city’s personnel department recommended five days of leave.

Mayor Karen Bass hired Dains in June 2023 after promising to make L.A. “a national model for animal welfare” by turning around its troubled shelters, where dogs may live in overcrowded and dirty kennels and volunteers have complained that animals sometimes don’t get food and water.

But in an interview with The Times, Dains said she felt powerless to solve entrenched problems that included severe understaffing and employees who mistreated or neglected animals.

She said she was repeatedly told by the personnel department, which functions like a human resources department at a private company, that she couldn’t fire problem employees. She also clashed with one of the unions that represents shelter employees.

At one point, Dains even reached out to L.A. County prosecutors for help.

Meanwhile, as the overcrowding worsened, more dogs and cats were euthanized in city shelters under her watch than in the preceding years.

“We need to tell the unfiltered, unvarnished truth about what is happening in the shelters,” Dains said.

In August, after a little more than a year as Animal Services general manager, Dains went on paid leave. A few days later, a top Bass advisor told Dains that her last day would be Nov. 30 and that she was free to resign before then.

Zach Seidl, a Bass spokesperson, pushed back on Dains’ accusations.

“Many of these characterizations are misleading and some are just plain inaccurate,” he said in an email.

Dains, in a series of interviews, said the city does not provide enough funding to meet the basic needs of the animals in its six shelters.

During Bass’ first year in office, amid critical reporting by The Times and others about conditions in the shelters, the mayor offered an 18% budget increase — far less than the 56% the Animal Services department had requested. The following fiscal year, her budget proposal slightly lowered the department’s funding.

Last week, in passing a budget that closed a nearly $1-billion shortfall, the City Council spared Animal Services from major cuts.

Dains, who previously held top shelter jobs in San José and Long Beach, said her employees were desensitized to the suffering of the animals after witnessing it day after day. The understaffing was so bad that three people were responsible for 500 dogs: cleaning kennels, setting up adoptions and working with the medical team, she said.

“I couldn’t sleep knowing that animals were just in those hellholes suffering,” said Dains, who now works at a shelter system in Sacramento. “It was awful.”

Dains, who made about $273,000 a year in L.A., said she witnessed some of her employees “terrorizing” dogs by banging on their kennels, or spraying them with water to move them back. She told the employees to stop the behavior, but some said they had been trained to treat the dogs that way, she said.

To ensure that animals were fed and their enclosures cleaned, Dains suggested starting a schedule that tracked when each task was done. But a union representative worried that the information could be used to punish employees, Dains said.

Ultimately, Dains said, she dropped the proposal because of the opposition from the union, Laborers’ International Union of North America Local 300. A representative from the union declined to comment.

Dain said that personal entanglements and gossip among employees sometimes made it hard to hold them accountable.

Some supervisors had had sexual relationships with their subordinates, which led them to overlook the employees’ poor work performance, according to Dains. Others used the “dirt” they had on co-workers to protest when confronted about their own behavior, she said.

Dains said she suspected that some employees were sleeping during night shifts instead of cleaning cages or doing paperwork. She showed The Times a photo of dog beds arranged on the floor of a staff room like a “nest.”

She said she also witnessed employees watching videos on their phones, rather than working. Others ignored people who walked into the shelter looking to adopt a pet, she said. Some employees told her that colleagues failed to give food or water to cats and dogs.

At the same time, Dains said, other employees went “above and beyond constantly” to make up for those who didn’t pull their weight.

“There’s a significant portion of staff that just aren’t doing their jobs,” she said. “I saw this constantly.”

Dains put some of the blame on supervisors, who were “not requiring them to perform.”

When she tried to discipline supervisors, she faced pushback, she said.

After she put a supervisor on leave who was accused of bullying people, Laborers’ International Union of North America Local 300 filed a grievance against her, Dains said.

A spokesperson for the personnel department declined to comment.

At the same time, Dains acknowledged that she should have been tougher on some of the assistant general managers who reported directly to her. But she said she wanted to maintain working relationships with them.

It is a “tricky thing to do to start writing up executive-level managers that you are trying to work with,” she said.

A shelter employee, who requested anonymity because he didn’t have permission to talk to the media, agreed with Dains’ assessment.

“There’s no accountability, there’s no repercussions,” he said. “And the staff who do work have to work twice as hard.”

A report last year by Best Friends Animal Society, which highlighted the poor conditions in the shelters and suggested possible solutions, criticized Dains as the “biggest barrier” to improvement.

The shelters lacked written protocols, and the euthanasia policy “changed five times in the last year” without communication about the changes, the report said.

According to a Times analysis, the number of dogs euthanized at city shelters from January through September last year increased 72% compared with the same period the previous year. The number of dogs entering the shelters increased each year since 2022, but the number put to death far outpaced the population gain.

In the crowded conditions, animals started behaving poorly and suffered “mental and emotional breakdown,” according to the Best Friends report. That made them less likely to be adopted and more likely to be euthanized.

Dains, in her interview with The Times, defended her euthanasia decisions, arguing that it wasn’t safe for the animals, staff, volunteers or the public to “warehouse” dogs in kennels for months or years.

She said that there was no euthanasia policy when she arrived and that the department was creating one during her tenure.

Bass was Dains’ boss, but Dains’ main contact was Jacqueline Hamilton, deputy mayor of neighborhood services. Dains said she spoke often with Hamilton and told her about the personnel problems and other issues. But Hamilton didn’t offer any meaningful help and didn’t want her to publicize the poor conditions at the shelters, Dains said.

“I am not getting any movement or traction,” Dains told The Times, describing her work experience.

Seidl, the Bass spokesperson, said Dains “was given support to succeed, including assistance in communicating the status of the department to the public and decision makers.”

Dains said that shortly after she became general manager, she asked Deputy Dist. Atty. Kimberly Abourezk, who worked on animal cruelty cases, to send a letter to the mayor about poor conditions at the shelters.

Venusse D. Dunn, a spokesperson for the district attorney’s office, said Abourezk didn’t send the letter because she visited city animal shelters and didn’t find evidence of any crimes.

The office “is not in a position to tell another agency how to operate their facility,” Dunn said.

Annette Ramirez, a longtime Animal Services staffer, is now interim general manager. The “severe overcrowding crisis,” as the department described it in news release this month, continues.