TEL AVIV, Israel—A few years ago, Abdulkafi Alhamdo stood in front of his class of 9- to 10-year-old children in Aleppo, which was under attack by Syria’s Assad regime at the time. It was a makeshift classroom, the living room of an abandoned apartment, and there was a smell of destruction in the air.
Soon after the class started there was a knock on the door and one of his pupils, Amran, stood there. After Alhamdo asked him why he was late, he said in a choked voice: “My father and my sister were killed yesterday in the attack. I came to tell you.”
After protests erupted in Syria in the spring of 2011, Alhamdo could have fled the country, as many of his friends and neighbors did. But he stayed for the sake of children like Amran who were going to need all the kindness and stability they could get as the protests escalated into armed rebellion following a brutal crackdown by Bashar al-Assad’s government.
“I love my pupils very much. We have a very close relationship. I always ask them how they are doing and if they are safe. I stayed in Syria for them,” he said by phone from Idlib in northwestern Syria.
“After seven years of war and destruction, we need to do something good. We have to educate the next generation. Believe me, if there will be no education, all the youngsters will become fighters, they will probably join extremist organizations. ... People will have a horrible future. That’s why we are here.”
In those seven years, many areas of the country have seen fighting and deadly airstrikes, and government forces—backed by Iran and Russia—have made gradual but significant advances.
Of late, Assad has been threatening an all-out assault on the rebel-held city of Idlib, where Alhamdo now lives with his wife and two children and teaches English literature at a university. On Nov. 24, eight people were killed in south Idlib province after airstrikes targeting a school, Alhamdo said on his Facebook page.
Teaching Under Siege
The Epoch Times: How do you bolster the children’s well-being in such circumstances?In Aleppo I was teaching subjects including English and math, but first I was thinking about their soul. I would go home thinking: ‘What shall I do with this child?’ There is always time to teach, but first of all I had to take care of the people, think about food. I used to tell them jokes and helped them forget the bad things, only then would I start to teach. We tried to build a curriculum based on character development rather than based on knowledge. We used to ask them if they were happy.
The children didn’t feel hate or jealousy, they loved each other. Every time when something bad happened, when someone lost his father or mother, we all came to this child’s house to give condolences. I would tell this child that he will grow up to be as good as his mother was, good like his father was. I would tell him that they would want him to grow to be good in the future. We tried to stay with the child until he could return to class.”
Imagine those 8-, 9-, 10-year-old children leaving their families and homes to attend school.
That is why I call my pupils heroes. They are noble heroes. ... They have bombs falling on them and they still come to school. Once, I saw two of my pupils, a 6-year-old and his sister, 11 years old, walking to school and a bomb suddenly fell near them. Fortunately, they weren’t hurt. They ran home to find shelter. You might expect them to stay home, but three minutes later they called me and said, ‘Let’s go to school together.’
[In Idlib once,] they bombed us in the middle of an exam. Every time a bomb was supposed to fall, I told the students to breathe deeply, to count to three, and it was over. We teachers treated the situation like it was a joke.
This is the reason why we focus on the present moment. Even if I will go to the university knowing that the destruction will start tomorrow, I will go anyway. I will go tomorrow without thinking of the day after tomorrow. If something bad will happen, it will occur against our will. But at least we will know that we had tried.