A cluster of metal sheets and wood is serving as a classroom in southern Gaza. It looks temporary — but for hundreds of students it's the only place to learn.

Campus built from scraps

The campus isn’t a university in the traditional sense. The site, set up by the US-based nongovernmental organisation Scholars Without Borders, sits in al-Mawasi in Khan Younis and is constructed from locally sourced timber, corrugated metal and other improvised materials. Solar panels provide internet and power. Makeshift lecture halls and small green patches try to recreate the contours of academic life that Gaza has largely lost.

Hamza Abu Daqqa, the group's representative in Gaza, said the project aims to get students back into classrooms and to serve multiple institutions that have nowhere else to go. "We designed this space to serve multiple academic institutions and as many students as possible," he said.

The site is modest but functional. There are six halls, the organisation says, and the setup is run as a weekly rotation to let different universities and colleges use the limited space.

The rotation prioritises practical, discussion-led and laboratory-based sessions — classes that struggle to move online — so nursing students and other trainees can get hands-on practice.

It isn't a fix for the wider loss of infrastructure. Across Gaza, many campuses have been damaged or turned into shelters since the conflict intensified in October 2023, according to reporting by Al Jazeera. Northern campuses have seen piecemeal repairs; in the south, entire institutions are said to be inoperable.

Students in tents, lectures on screens

Daily life for many students has been reduced to the basics: food, water, shelter. Online classrooms exist, but only a minority of displaced students can reliably attend because electricity and internet remain patchy for households under strain.

Physical classrooms still matter. In-person classes are the only doable way to teach certain skills, and the loss of laboratory space, libraries and clinical training sites has a direct effect on the quality of professional education. The Palestine College of Nursing, named in reporting on the project, has seen its campus ringed by rubble and struggled to continue clinical instruction as a result.

Scholars Without Borders describes the new site as a way to restore some normality and to provide a space where students can meet, discuss and practise under supervision. The organisation also says it has included a small business incubator to help students consider employment and entrepreneurship, and has created improvised green areas to give the site a less stark feel.

Mastheads

How education loss translates into economic strain

The interruption of higher education isn't just an academic problem. Gaza's economy relies on the formation of professionals — doctors, nurses, engineers, teachers — who keep basic services running. When training pipelines are broken, the practical consequence is a gap in the workforce that can take years to refill.

Universities also act as local employers and hubs for research and small-scale enterprise. Campuses that are out of use mean lost jobs for administrative staff, technicians and contract workers. Students who delay graduation may enter an already stressed job market later and with less practical experience.

In that sense, the makeshift campus has an economic purpose as well as an educational one. By prioritising hands-on courses and setting aside space for business-oriented projects, the initiative tries to keep the flow of trained graduates from stalling entirely. But the scale is tiny compared with Gaza's normal higher-education sector; six halls and a rotating timetable can't replace damaged institutions or make up for months of interrupted study.

Political and humanitarian implications

But this project raises a bigger political question: how can basic public services survive when infrastructure is so badly damaged? International non-governmental projects can fill gaps; they can't, however, substitute for long-term investment or comprehensive plans to rebuild educational systems.

Having a makeshift campus also sends a strong message. It signals that students and educators in Gaza are refusing to let formal learning vanish, and it draws attention to the specific ways war affects civic life beyond immediate humanitarian needs. That visibility can influence debates in capitals that fund reconstruction and aid, and can shape choices about which sectors receive priority funding.

Who's responsible for funding reconstruction is a political question many governments will face if and when rebuilding begins. Educational infrastructure will compete with hospitals, housing and utilities for donor money. Choosing which public services to fund is a political decision that affects recovery and social stability for years.

Practical limits and safety concerns

There are practical constraints, too. The site depends on fragile supply lines for everything from solar panels to chairs. If hostilities resume or movement is further restricted, the makeshift campus could quickly become unusable. The rotation system also means not every student can access in-person teaching every week; choices about which departments get priority are unavoidable and potentially controversial.

Sure, plus, students and staff who use the site remain displaced or live in precarious conditions. Access to mental-health services, secure accommodation and basic utilities is still limited; the improvised campus doesn't address those gaps. It's a partial response, tailored to protect a slice of academic life rather than to restore the system wholesale.

What the initiative could mean internationally

The University City project may encourage similar, low-cost interventions elsewhere in Gaza or in other conflict-affected areas. Small-scale solutions can be easier and quicker to deploy than full-scale reconstruction. They can keep students engaged, preserve skills, and buy time for longer-term planning.

That said, emergency measures risk becoming permanent if durable reconstruction funds don't arrive. Makeshift solutions can calcify into second-best options — places where generations of students are trained under improvised conditions, rather than in buildings equipped for modern research and clinical practice.

For international observers and donors, the choice will be whether to back temporary fixes that meet immediate needs or to commit to rebuilding full institutions that support research, public services and economic recovery over decades. The former is urgent, the latter is strategic. Both are necessary, and balancing them will involve hard political decisions.

Al Jazeera's reporting shows how community-driven efforts such as the one run by Scholars Without Borders attempt to bridge that gap, even as they operate under severe constraints. The story of the makeshift campus is therefore both practical and emblematic — a sign of resilience and of how fragile the pathways to normal life remain.

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Hamza Abu Daqqa, representative of Scholars Without Borders in Gaza, said: "We designed this space to serve multiple academic institutions and as many students as possible."

This article was created with AI assistance.