Lebanon's schools face dual crisis: reopening classrooms while sheltering displaced families

Over 1 million Lebanese displaced from homes; 4,381 killed since March 2026; recent strikes killed 12 including two children; students face seven consecutive years of educational disruption.
We will reopen the school, but will not abandon the displaced people
Principal Abbas Makki describes the impossible choice facing Lebanese educators as the school year approaches.
Mark

So the school year starts September 15, but the school is still full of people who lost their homes. How does that actually work?

Mimi

It doesn't, not cleanly. That's the whole problem. Abbas Makki, the principal in Froun, is trying to do both things at once—teach students and shelter displaced families. The government is bringing in prefabricated houses to move people out of the classrooms, but those are still being built.

Luke

Wait—are those prefab houses actually going to be ready by September 15? The article says they "would be provided," which is future tense. And it says the government set September 15 as a goal for restoring water and electricity. A goal is not a guarantee.

Mimi

Right. It's aspirational. The reality is that hundreds of thousands of people are still displaced. Some schools have moved people to other buildings, but there's no systematic plan.

Mark

What does UNESCO say about this?

Mimi

They're saying schools can't be both shelters and learning spaces. Maysoun Chehab said if families stay in schools, reopening gets delayed or classrooms get smaller. And you can't just kick people out onto the street.

Luke

So the constraint is real: you need safe housing before you can empty the schools. But the article doesn't tell us how many displaced people are in schools, or how many prefab units are actually being built, or when they'll be ready. We know 454 schools have been disrupted, but that's not the same as knowing how many are currently sheltering families.

Mark

Is this a new problem, or has it been happening since the fighting started?

Mimi

It's been ongoing. The framework agreement in late June was supposed to help people return home, and some did. But then Israel launched new attacks in recent days, and people fled their homes again. So displacement is still happening.

Luke

The article mentions 12 people killed on Monday, including two children. That's after the ceasefire agreement. So the agreement hasn't actually stopped the violence.

Mimi

No. And that's why families are still in schools. They can't go home if their homes are destroyed and the fighting hasn't really ended.

Mark

What about the longer-term damage to education?

Mimi

Seven years of disrupted schooling. That's the real crisis. Students have lost a year every year since 2019. UNESCO is warning that without immediate intervention, an entire generation will fall behind.

Luke

But "lost generation" is a phrase that gets used a lot. What does it actually mean here? Are we talking about students who will drop out, or students who will graduate but be behind academically, or something else?

Mimi

The article doesn't specify. Chehab talks about protecting "Lebanon's human capital, social cohesion and future," which suggests it's about long-term development, not just test scores. But you're right—the concrete impact isn't detailed.

Mark

So September 15 is the deadline. What happens if schools can't open?

Mimi

The Education Minister said every student will have access to schools. But "access" and "normal classes" are different things. Some schools might open with reduced capacity. Some might operate on split schedules. It's going to be messy.

Luke

And we won't know until it happens. The article is reporting on plans and commitments, not on what actually occurs. That's worth noting.

  • Israeli military operations since March 2026 have killed over 4,381 people, displaced more than one million Lebanese, and damaged 454 schools — leaving entire communities with nowhere to live and nowhere to learn.
  • Strikes as recent as this week killed 12 people including two children, making clear that the violence underpinning the displacement crisis has not paused to allow for reconstruction or routine.
  • Lebanon's Education Minister has pledged that no displaced person will be removed from a school shelter without a safe alternative, but the alternatives — prefabricated housing, repurposed private schools — are fragile and far from sufficient.
  • UNESCO warns that schools cannot simultaneously function as shelters and learning environments, and that seven consecutive years of educational disruption now threaten to permanently sever an entire generation from its future.
  • In villages like Froun, the reopening of schools is less a return to normalcy than a negotiation between survival and hope — displaced families selling snacks from school entrances, principals promising dignity to both students and those who have nowhere else to go.

In the villages of southern Lebanon, a school principal prepares to welcome children back to classrooms that have, for months, served as the last shelter for families whose homes no longer exist. As Lebanon attempts to restart its school year on September 15, more than a million displaced people and over 340 damaged schools reveal the impossible arithmetic of a society trying to tend to both its wounded present and its imperiled future. The tension between providing refuge and restoring education is not merely logistical — it is a question of what a society owes its children when the structures meant to protect them have been turned to rubble.

Abbas Makki sits at his desk in Froun, a village in southern Lebanon reduced largely to rubble by Israeli airstrikes, preparing for a school year that is anything but ordinary. On September 15, his school is set to reopen for students — while continuing to shelter families who returned after a ceasefire only to find their homes destroyed. Among them is Soujoud Ramadan, who now runs a small market from the school entrance where a town center once stood. "We returned here after the ceasefire to a completely destroyed village," she said. "But I hope Froun will return like it was and even better."

The crisis traces to March 2026, when Israel's military operations in Lebanon intensified for the second time in two years, forcing over one million people from their homes across the south, the Bekaa Valley, and Beirut's southern suburbs. A framework agreement brokered by the United States created pilot withdrawal zones, including Froun, but returning residents found destruction rather than restoration.

The government now faces a near-impossible balance. Education Minister Rima Karami has pledged that every student will have access to school for the 2026-27 year, and that no displaced person sheltering in a school will be removed without a safe alternative first. In Froun, prefabricated housing is being arranged to allow classrooms to function again. "The important thing is that we will not mistreat the people nor will we stop classes," Makki said.

The damage is vast: more than 340 schools damaged, 454 disrupted by conflict or displacement. UNESCO's Maysoun Chehab stated plainly that a school cannot serve simultaneously as shelter and learning environment, and that dignified alternatives must precede any displacement of families. Workarounds are emerging — displaced people moved from public to private schools in some towns, prefabricated classrooms installed where school buildings once stood in others — but these are temporary answers to a crisis that shows no sign of ending.

The deeper wound is generational. Lebanese students have faced disrupted schooling every year since 2019, and Chehab warned that without immediate intervention, an entire generation will bear the cost of the conflict. As of this week, Israeli strikes continued to kill civilians in southern Lebanon, including two children. With 4,381 dead since March and the violence unabated, the question of what a school reopening can mean — and whether it can hold — remains painfully open.

Abbas Makki sits at his desk in Froun, a village in southern Lebanon about two hours' drive from Beirut, preparing for something that should be routine: the start of a new school year. But nothing about this moment is routine. On September 15, his school will reopen its doors to students. It will also continue to shelter families who have nowhere else to go.

Froun lies in rubble. Israeli airstrikes have leveled buildings throughout the village. The local government says most residents still lack running water and electricity. When people fled the fighting earlier this year, they left behind homes that no longer exist. Some, like Soujoud Ramadan, have moved into the school. She now runs a small market from the school entrance, selling snacks and basic supplies, because the town center where shops once stood has been destroyed. "We returned here after the ceasefire to a completely destroyed village," she said. "But I hope Froun will return like it was and even better."

The crisis that brought these families to the school began in March 2026, when Israel's military operations in Lebanon intensified for the second time in two years. The escalation forced more than one million Lebanese from their homes, mostly from the southern regions, the Bekaa Valley to the east, and Beirut's southern suburbs. In late June, after negotiations brokered by the United States, Israel and Lebanon reached a framework agreement that included pilot zones where Israeli troops would withdraw and the Lebanese Army would move in. Froun was designated as one of three villages in this pilot program, though local residents say Israel never actually controlled the town. Still, people began returning, only to discover their homes had been destroyed.

Now the government faces an impossible arithmetic. The school year must start. But hundreds of thousands of people remain displaced. On September 2, Lebanon's Education Minister Rima Karami announced that every student would have access to schools for the 2026-27 academic year, with in-person classes wherever possible. She also said no displaced person sheltering in a school would be removed without an alternative being offered first. In Froun, Makki said prefabricated houses would be provided for the displaced families, allowing students to return to classrooms. "The important thing is that we will not mistreat the people nor will we stop classes," he said.

The scale of damage is staggering. More than 340 schools have been damaged across Lebanon, and 454 have been disrupted by conflict or displacement. Maysoun Chehab, the senior education programme specialist at UNESCO's Beirut office, put the dilemma plainly: "A school cannot function simultaneously as a proper shelter and a normal learning environment." Where schools continue to house displaced families, she said, reopening will be delayed or classroom capacity reduced. "The solution cannot simply be to evacuate families; dignified and safe alternative accommodation must first be secured."

Other towns have attempted workarounds. In Srifa, near Froun, displaced people have been moved from the public school to a private school. In Bourj Qalaway to the south, the Council of the South has planned to install 17 prefabricated classrooms where the village's school once stood before it was destroyed. These are temporary measures in response to a temporary crisis that may not be temporary at all.

The deeper concern is what seven years of disrupted schooling will do to an entire generation. Students in Lebanon have had their education interrupted every year since 2019. Chehab warned that without immediate action, "a generation will pay the price of the conflict." She emphasized that education cannot wait for complete political or security stability. "Every effort must be made now to return children to safe learning, support their teachers and restore a sense of normality and hope. Protecting education today means protecting Lebanon's human capital, social cohesion and future."

On Monday, before the school year was set to begin, Israeli strikes killed 12 people in southern Lebanon, including two children, hitting a residential building and a car in the Nabatieh region. According to Lebanon's Ministry of Health, 4,381 people have been killed since March 2. The violence has not stopped. The question of whether schools can reopen, and what that reopening will look like, remains unsettled.

A school cannot function simultaneously as a proper shelter and a normal learning environment. Where schools continue to accommodate displaced families, reopening will inevitably be delayed or classroom capacity reduced.
— Maysoun Chehab, UNESCO senior education programme specialist
The important thing is that we will not mistreat the people nor will we stop classes.
— Abbas Makki, school principal in Froun
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