Iran war's ripple effect pushes millions of vulnerable children out of school

Millions of children forced out of school into child labor and exploitation; girls at increased risk of trafficking and early marriage; documented cases of children drowning traveling to school.
When money is tight, she skips school to work alongside her parents.
Sou Sreynich, a thirteen-year-old in Cambodia, faces the daily choice between education and family survival.
Mark

Why does the Iran war affect children in Cambodia and Vietnam so directly? They're thousands of miles away.

Mimi

Fuel prices are global. When the war disrupts oil supplies, diesel and gasoline get more expensive everywhere. For families who depend on boats to reach school, or whose parents fish for a living, that price spike becomes an immediate crisis.

Mark

So it's not that schools are closing. It's that families can't afford to send their kids.

Mimi

Exactly. A school closure is visible—you can count the days it's shut. This is invisible. A child just stops showing up because the family had to choose between fuel and food.

Mark

The story mentions girls being at higher risk. Why would economic pressure affect them differently?

Mimi

When money runs out, families tend to keep boys in school and pull girls out to work or marry them off early. It's a pattern documented across South Asia and Africa. Girls become the first casualty of financial triage.

Mark

What happens to a child who drops out of school to work?

Mimi

They become vulnerable to exploitation. Without school, without supervision, without a safe place to be, they're exposed to trafficking, abuse, dangerous working conditions. The Blue Dragon foundation found girls working in restaurants with sharp tools and hot surfaces. That's the visible part. There's much worse that doesn't get reported.

Mark

Is there any way to reverse this?

Mimi

Not quickly. Governments in developing countries are already stretched thin. They're spending more on fuel and food subsidies, which leaves less for schools. School meal programs—which keep 466 million children enrolled worldwide—are under pressure. Unless fuel prices stabilize or these countries get financial support, the damage will compound.

  • Fuel prices driven up by the Iran war have made school transportation unaffordable for fishing families across Southeast Asia, forcing children like thirteen-year-old Sou Sreynich to skip class and work just to help their families survive.
  • Two sisters in Vietnam — one still legally a child — dropped out and moved to Hanoi to work grueling restaurant hours after their father's fishing income collapsed under the weight of diesel costs, until a nonprofit intervened to bring them back.
  • Girls face compounding dangers when economic crisis strikes: in regions where sons are prioritized, daughters are the first pulled from school and the most exposed to trafficking, early marriage, and exploitation.
  • School meal programs feeding over 466 million children worldwide are buckling under rising fertilizer and transport costs, with malnutrition relapse already being documented across northern Nigeria.
  • Aid organizations and education foundations warn that years of development gains are now at serious risk, with the war acting as a tipping point for millions of families already living without any financial margin.

As the reverberations of the Iran war ripple outward across oceans and economies, it is the quietest casualties who bear the heaviest weight — children in Cambodia, Vietnam, Nigeria, and Bangladesh, for whom a spike in fuel prices is not an abstraction but the difference between a classroom and a fishing boat, between a future imagined and one foreclosed. The conflict threatens to push 23.4 million more children into poverty by year's end, unraveling decades of hard-won progress in education and development. Unlike the sudden shock of a pandemic, this unraveling is gradual and largely invisible — a slow erosion of possibility, felt most acutely by those who were already closest to the edge.

Sou Sreynich is thirteen and already behind. She didn't start school until she was ten — her mother had waited until she was old enough to swim, unwilling to risk the boat crossing on Cambodia's Tonle Sap, where ten students from her school have drowned over the years. Now, with gasoline prices surging because of the Iran war, her family faces harder choices. When money tightens, she skips school to work. "I want to complete my studies," she said.

On the Tonle Sap, everything requires a boat, and rising fuel costs have made it harder for her family to reach the deeper waters where fish are more plentiful. The war's impact on education is less visible than COVID-19's sudden school closures, but it is falling first and hardest on the poorest families — straining national budgets, driving up the cost of electricity and supplies, and forcing brutal choices between survival and schooling.

In Vietnam, two sisters from a fishing family of nine dropped out after their father lost work when diesel prices made going to sea unaffordable. The younger, Nhi, was thirteen — her restaurant work illegal under child labor law. The nonprofit Blue Dragon Children's Foundation intervened in April and brought them back to school. But their story is far from isolated. When families reach a financial breaking point, they tend to go into triage — keeping some children enrolled while pulling others out to work, leaving those children far more vulnerable to exploitation and trafficking.

A recent UNICEF report estimates the war could push 23.4 million more children into poverty by year's end, with roughly eighty percent in Africa and Asia. Girls are likely to be affected most acutely — in households under economic strain, sons tend to be prioritized, and more girls leaving school could accelerate rates of child marriage in a region that already accounts for forty-five percent of the world's child brides.

More than 466 million children worldwide depend on school meal programs that help keep them enrolled and support healthy development. These programs are now under pressure as the conflict disrupts fertilizer shipments and raises transport costs, particularly across West and Central Africa. In northern Nigeria, children relapsing into malnutrition is becoming more common.

Michael Brosowski of Blue Dragon described the war's impact as slow but devastating — a tipping point for families who had no margin left. In Cambodia, supplies on the Tonle Sap already cost more because everything arrives by boat; school electricity costs have risen tenfold. Years of progress in education and poverty reduction are now at risk, and those closest to the work say they are afraid of what comes next.

Sou Sreynich is thirteen years old and already behind. She didn't start school until she was ten—her mother had waited until she was old enough to swim, unwilling to risk the boat ride across Cambodia's Tonle Sap, the largest freshwater lake in Southeast Asia, where ten students from her school have drowned over the years. Now, just as she's trying to catch up, the price of gasoline has spiked because of the Iran war, and her family is making harder choices about whether she can afford to keep going.

On the Tonle Sap, everything requires a boat. Sreynich's family survives on fishing and occasional work gutting fish or picking chili peppers. Rising fuel costs mean they can't afford to travel to deeper waters where fish are more plentiful. When money tightens, she skips school to work alongside her parents. She dreads every absence. "I want to complete my studies," she said.

The Iran war's impact on education is less visible than the sudden school closures of COVID-19, but it is falling first and hardest on the poorest families. Soaring fuel prices make it more expensive for children and teachers to reach school. They strain national budgets, leaving governments with less money for education. They drive up the cost of everything else—electricity, supplies, food. For families already living on the edge, the choice becomes brutal: pay for food, fuel, rent, and electricity, or keep every child in school.

In Vietnam's rocky northern coast, two sisters named Ly and Nhi—sixteen and thirteen—came from a fishing family of nine children. Their father lost his job when diesel prices climbed so high that boat owners couldn't afford to go out to sea. Already in debt, the family was surviving on odd jobs. It wasn't enough. The girls dropped out and moved to Hanoi to work long hours in a restaurant, exposed to sharp tools, hot surfaces, and heavy lifting. For Nhi, it was also illegal under child labor laws. In April, the nonprofit Blue Dragon Children's Foundation intervened and brought them back to school. But their story is not unique. Some children in Southeast Asia are dropping out to work. When families reach a financial breaking point, they tend to go into triage—keeping some children enrolled while pulling others out to work. The children not in school are far more vulnerable to exploitation, trafficking, and homelessness.

According to a recent United Nations Children's Fund report, the war could push up to 23.4 million more children into poverty by the end of the year. About eighty percent of those children would be in Africa and Asia. Sabrina Hervey of the Qatar-based Education Above All Foundation said the war is likely to force millions of children out of school and could prevent millions more from enrolling in the first place. In developing countries reliant on imported energy, the disruptions are most severe. Rising fertilizer costs and falling remittances are straining smaller economies. In Bangladesh, whose economy was already under strain, pressure on government finances could leave less money for health care and education.

Girls are likely to be affected more acutely. In families facing economic hardship, sons tend to be prioritized. More girls dropping out of school could mean an increase in child marriages. South Asia accounts for forty-five percent of the world's child brides, the highest share of any region. More than 466 million children worldwide receive at least one meal a day at school—meals that help keep them enrolled, improve their ability to learn, and support healthy brain development. These programs face pressure as the conflict disrupts fertilizer shipments and raises transport costs, especially in West and Central Africa, which relies heavily on imported food. Across northern Nigeria, it is becoming more common for children to relapse into malnutrition.

Michael Brosowski with the Blue Dragon Children's Foundation said the war's impact has unfolded slowly but is devastating. It is the tipping point for a lot of families. In Cambodia, everything already costs more on the Tonle Sap since supplies have to be brought in by boat. The electricity to run a school lab is ten times higher than it was. Years of progress in education and poverty reduction are now at risk. Hervey said she is really afraid to see what's going to happen.

I want to complete my studies
— Sou Sreynich, 13-year-old student in Cambodia
The Iran war is likely going to force millions of children out of school and could force millions of children to make the decision not to enroll in the first place
— Sabrina Hervey, Education Above All Foundation
It's the tipping point for a lot of families
— Michael Brosowski, Blue Dragon Children's Foundation
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