Rebuilding Education After Conflict: Why Healing Must Come Before Textbooks

What happens to education when war tears everything apart?

I’ll admit something. When I first started reading about education in conflict zones, I thought the biggest problem was physical damage, things like destroyed classrooms, broken desks, and closed school gates. It seemed obvious: rebuild the schools, bring back the teachers, and learning would resume.

But the more I read, and more importantly, the more I reflected on what children actually experience during conflict, the more I realised I had it backwards.

This blog argues that after a war, education cannot simply restart. It must first heal. Before textbooks, before timetables, before exams, there must be a deliberate effort to restore a child’s sense of safety, stability, and hope. Without that foundation, learning cannot meaningfully take place.

The Invisible Wound

When conflict devastates a community, the visible damage is immediate. Schools are destroyed or turned into shelters. Teachers flee. Families are displaced, often more than once. Across many regions in the Global South, millions of children see their education abruptly interrupted.

But there is another kind of damage, one that is quieter and often far more lasting.

Research in Sub-Saharan Africa shows that children exposed to violent conflict in early childhood experience long-term setbacks in reading and mathematics. This is not just because they miss school. Conflict disrupts nutrition, healthcare, and stable caregiving, all of which are essential for cognitive development (Salah & Saxena, 2025).

In places like Gaza, the psychological toll is just as severe. Studies show that more than half of children experience symptoms associated with post-traumatic stress, including nightmares that can last for months or even years (Forsberg & Schultz, 2022; Schultz et al., 2017).

This leads to a simple but often overlooked truth: learning cannot happen when a child does not feel safe. A worksheet cannot compete with trauma. A lesson plan cannot override a nervous system that is still responding to danger.

If education is to restart in any meaningful way, healing must come first.

What Happens When Healing Comes First

There are, however, examples that show what becomes possible when emotional recovery is treated as part of education, not something separate from it.

The Better Learning Program (BLP) in Gaza is one such example. Instead of relying on external mental health specialists, the programme was delivered by local teachers, people children already knew and trusted. It focused on helping students regulate their emotions, manage stress, and regain a sense of control through simple classroom practices.

The results were striking; w     ithin eight weeks, many children who had been experiencing daily nightmares reported a clear reduction. These changes lasted. Follow-up findings showed better self-control, increased confidence, and stronger engagement with learning (Schultz et al., 2017; Forsberg & Schultz, 2022).

What made this work was not just the content, but the approach. It was culturally grounded, built on familiar practices, and realistic within existing school systems.

A broader review of school-based interventions in conflict settings supports this. Programmes that ignore local context can be ineffective or even harmful, while those that integrate emotional support into everyday learning tend to be more successful (Persson & Rousseau, 2009).

The lesson here is clear. Learning is not only cognitive. It is emotional and deeply shaped by context. When children begin to feel safe again, learning becomes possible.

When School Cannot Simply Resume

In some situations, returning to a regular classroom is not immediately possible. Conflict can disrupt education for years, leaving learners far behind.

This is where alternative approaches come in. Accelerated learning programmes, for example, allow students to catch up in a shorter time. In Iraq, such programmes have helped adolescents complete primary education and move on to further study or work (Bilagher & Kaushik, 2020).

These approaches recognise something important. Learning in conflict settings is rarely linear. Flexibility matters. However, even programmes like these depend on learners being emotionally ready to re-engage. This reinforces      that healing is not optional. It is foundational.

Flexibility alone, though, is not enough.

On the Thai–Myanmar border, migrant learning centres offer self-paced education for children whose schooling has been repeatedly interrupted. These programmes help maintain continuity, but they also face challenges, especially around language. Some centres have addressed this by introducing bilingual teaching and peer support (Thinh, 2025).

Even in these contexts, one thing becomes clear.  Without addressing emotional distress, flexible systems can only go so far. They may provide access, but not always meaningful learning.

What This Means for Rebuilding Education

As I have sat with this work, reading study after study and story after story, a clear pattern has started to emerge. Across different places and programmes, the approaches that genuinely help children after conflict tend to share three things.

First, healing comes before schooling. I used to think education could simply restart. Now it seems clear that emotional recovery is the foundation. Without safety and stability, learning does not take root.

Second, flexibility must come with fairness. Alternative pathways are essential, but we have to ask who might still be left out. Language, gender, and access all matter.

Third, context matters. Programmes that are grounded in local realities, and shaped by what communities know and trust, are far more likely to work and to last.

Taken together, these ideas shift the focus. It is no longer just about rebuilding systems. It is about rethinking what learning looks like for children who have lived through conflict.

A Final Reflection

If there is one thing this discussion makes clear, it is that rebuilding education after conflict must begin with healing. Education alone cannot resolve the deep causes of conflict. It cannot undo trauma overnight.

But it can still play a powerful role.

It can restore routine. It can provide direction. And most importantly, it can help children imagine a future beyond what they have experienced.

For a child affected by conflict, that sense of possibility matters deeply.

Rebuilding education, then, is not just about classrooms or curriculum. It is about rebuilding the conditions that make learning possible.

Because before a child can learn, they must first feel safe enough to hope.

References

Bilagher, M., & Kaushik, A. (2020). The potential of Accelerated Learning Programmes (ALPs) for conflict-ridden countries and regions: Lessons learned from an experience in Iraq. International Review of Education, 66(1), 93–113. https://doi.org/10.1007/s11159-020-09826-1

Forsberg, J. T., & Schultz, J. (2022). Educational and psychosocial support for conflict-affected youths: The effectiveness of a school-based intervention targeting academic underachievement. International Journal of School & Educational Psychology, 11(2), 145–166. https://doi.org/10.1080/21683603.2022.2043209

Persson TJ, Rousseau C. School-based interventions for minors in war-exposed countries: a review of targeted and general programmes. Torture. 2009;19(2):88-101. PMID: 19920327

Salah, M. B., & Saxena, K. (2025). Violent conflicts and learning outcomes: Evidence from Sub-Saharan Africa. World Development, 194, 107054. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.worlddev.2025.107054

Schultz, J. M. L. N. H. a. K. (2017). School-Based Intervention in Ongoing Crisis: Lessons from a Psychosocial and Trauma-Focused Approach in Gaza Schools Authors: Faculty Digital Archive (New York University Florence). https://doi.org/10.17609/n80t03

Thinh, M. P. (2025). Rethinking educational equity in the Global South: Alternative pathways for Myanmar students in conflict-affected contexts. Policy Futures in Education. https://doi.org/10.1177/14782103251348084