“I Believe Education Is Freedom For Us”: How Farida Alghoul Created Resistance through Teaching

In conversation with Farida from Gaza, currently a Master’s student at UofG, on how she preserved education in her community and her journey to Glasgow. 

In the midday bustle of the Gilchrist Café, I sat down with Farida Alghoul, who is pursuing a Master’s in Education at the University after evacuating from Gaza in December of last year. I ask her, first of all, about her teaching background. 

“Before the war or after the war?” was her immediate response. I paused – I had not thought to make this distinction. Of course, Farida’s life is now divided into “before” and “after”; the conflict disrupted her education, her career, and her livelihood. 

“Tell me about both,” I said.

Before the war, Farida had formed a diverse career in advocacy and teaching. She founded her own English language academy called Follow Me Academy, for children and adults in Gaza, and worked as an interpreter for various international organisations. She was also a translator and writer. “During the war, it was totally different. I couldn’t stand [around] without doing something for my people. I felt I had to do something before dying,” she said. Farida took action by establishing more than 40 educational tents across the city of Gaza, collaborating with international organisations to support her. It was difficult, she tells me, because in the uncertainty of genocide that she faced every day, saving lives was a larger priority than saving education. “The first five months were so tough; no one believed in me. They told me, ‘We are so hungry. Do you need to teach our children with hungry stomachs?’ They didn’t feel that [education] was as important.” 

I asked her what grounded her and kept her going despite the doubt she received: “I will never forget my student, Abdul Kareem, who is now a martyr. He called me one day and told me, ‘Ms. Farida, you have a lot of power, you have a lot of knowledge, why are you standing there, not doing anything for our education? We need to do something.’ After two weeks of [establishing] the educational tents, I lost Kareem. People ask me where I get this passion from – I get it from my students. I get this power from their desire to complete their education because I believe education is freedom for us.”

In 2017, it was reported that there were 28 higher education institutions in Gaza, including eight universities and 20 colleges. Since 2008, however, these institutions have been targeted by Israel. In 2008-2009, six university buildings were destroyed. More recent data from July 2025 suggests that 91.8% of Gazan educational facilities need full reconstruction, and 432 out of 564 buildings have been hit directly. “Gaza is full of educated people. [During the war] we have lost lots of doctors, lots of engineers.”

Farida told me that working on the educational tents – amid constant displacement from her home being targeted – reminded her of what it is like to be human. It kept her grounded. “You don’t need a weapon to [accomplish] resistance. Education is another kind of resistance – it’s very important.” 

Textbooks, notebooks, and other educational tools were hard to come by, so Farida and her staff relied on their ingenuity. Most of the resources they use come from their surroundings; they don’t have chalkboards to write on, so instead they use walls and tree trunks. Pieces of rubble became makeshift desks. The tents do not provide ideal coverage, and are subject to overcrowding, especially during extreme weather conditions such as heat, cold and rain. Farida then pulled out her phone to show me a video. On her screen, a group of children crowded around a flooded tent, attempting to stay dry while simultaneously focusing on their learning. Due to the large volume of pupils, Farida explains that it is difficult for teachers to give individual attention to each child. Moreover, “Many children have experienced trauma due to war and displacement, which affects their ability to concentrate.” To address students’ mental health and well-being, Farida contacted therapists and psychologists whom students could talk to after lessons. She does her best to build an environment as safe as possible for her students. 

The educational tents themselves are still in use, and Farida, despite being on the other side of the globe, still manages them. “Every day I have three hours I put [towards] working on my educational tents just to contact the teachers. I have a big team on the ground. When you have a passion, you can manage,” she said. “You can create time for this.” 

I then asked Farida about the journey and process of coming to Glasgow. With all of her devices lost in rubble, she struggled to get in touch with the University. She resorted to using her sister’s old phone and contacted two of her friends via LinkedIn – one a lecturer at Glasgow, and another based in London – who kept her updated on her application process. “When I disconnected, they connected, because they had internet when I didn’t.” There was a lot of uncertainty that came with her application. While Farida did have an offer to study at the University, the logistics of evacuation and getting a visa were lengthy and harrowing, especially while living in the conditions of a genocide. After a miscommunication with the University, in which she felt evacuation was “impossible”, Farida finally received her official acceptance on 28 November and an e-visa shortly after. She arrived in the UK on 2 December 2025. 

“It felt like a dream, but I had to remind myself: ‘No, it’s not a dream, Farida. You deserve this.’” She said one thing which stayed with me: “I had forgotten what it was like to be a woman. I forgot my face, [during the war] I couldn’t see my face. I felt like I needed to have my life [back].” Coming to Glasgow allowed Farida to recover ownership of her life and her identity. 

Once she arrived in Glasgow, she felt instantly welcomed. “I know you guys have terrible weather, but I love the [Scottish] people. They are very supportive, very kind, very calm,” Farida said with a smile. She is right about the weather. Outside, the ground had a post-rain shine, and the sky was a pale grey; it looked likely to rain again in the next hour. However, I had to agree with her – people really do make Glasgow. “They have warm hearts, warm homes.” 

Farida is clear about her purpose. She wants to finish her Master’s, and then go on to do a PhD here at Glasgow. Then she aspires to have a teaching career and develop her skills in the UK before returning to develop her community. “But at this stage in my life, I’m not thinking of going back because I need to improve and know the world more.”

Image credits: Farida Alghoul