The Brain Remembers War: A Child’s Story from Gaza

A Teacher and Her Student: The Impact of War on a Child’s Brain

This article is the result of collaboration between a teacher and her former student, both deeply affected by the ongoing conflict in Gaza. As a neuroscientist and a parent, the author shares the story of what war does to a child’s brain and how one man is trying to help when everything else is gone.

Judy’s Story: The Girl Who Slipped Away

Hatem, who was once a PhD student under the author, has experienced the horrors of war firsthand. He recalls a tragic incident where he tried to rescue five-year-old Judy Hararah. “I entered an apartment and found four children with their mother. Two of them were dismembered.”

“Judy was bleeding from the mouth, but she was breathing. I felt no pain. Only purpose. I carried her from the sixth floor and ran barefoot to the field hospital about 150m away. Unfortunately, she passed away at the hospital door. I can still smell the blood, gunpowder and death. That smell of death never leaves.”

Sarah’s Story: The Brain in a Child’s War

A day later, Hatem shared another heartbreaking story about his six-year-old daughter, Sarah. “She saw the dead children, some of them in pieces, being removed from the apartment. She saw her friend Judy die in my arms.”

Since then, Sarah has shown significant changes in behavior. “Mood swings, extreme sadness, poor appetite, poor concentration, and mental distraction. She asks many questions about the child she saw dying, with fear and terror from every sound of an explosion. For the past two years, her world has been collapsing around her, and unfortunately in this war zone, there is no hospital, no medication, no therapy. What can I do?”

The Effects of Prolonged Trauma on Children’s Brains

As of August 2, 2025, the war in Gaza has lasted for 296 days. Under such intense and prolonged trauma, children’s brains switch into survival mode, flooding the body with stress hormones. This toxic stress loop affects not just emotions but also biological functions.

In the short term, this response is necessary. However, over time, fear, disconnection, and sleep disturbances become more than emotional cries—they are biological alarm bells. The immune system weakens, concentration collapses, and brain structures are reshaped. The amygdala becomes hyperactive, primed for threats, while cortisol floods the body repeatedly, impairing concentration and emotional regulation. The hippocampus, crucial for memory, shrinks in response to persistent fear. Hatem sees all this unfolding in Sarah—not in a lab, but in the rubble of Gaza.

Helping Rebuild Brains in Gaza

The sense of helplessness is almost paralyzing. As a Malaysian, the author follows the BDS boycott list and prays. She lives in safety while mothers in Rafah search for water and fathers dig through rubble.

“We argue over political factions; they fight to keep their children alive.”

With all the resources available, the author wonders: what can be done? When every institution in Gaza has collapsed and every comfort is gone, how do we help a child rebuild her mind?

Children’s brains are incredibly resilient. With the right support, even small moments of safety, connection, and routine can help them heal. In the ruins of Gaza, Hatem is helping Sarah survive her unseen wounds.

Together, they have developed a five-point trauma kit for parents, along with an assessment kit using validated tests that parents can use. No MRIs, psychologists, or tools are needed—just what can be found in the surrounding rubble. This is their way of doing something and empowering parents when every institution has collapsed and every comfort is gone.

Acts of Love Rooted in Neuroscience

Hatem now applies his knowledge in the most tragic setting imaginable, using his understanding of neuroscience not in a classroom, but in a war zone. He holds Sarah when she shakes, uses his voice to calm her, allows her to draw pictures of the explosion, and names her emotions.

“You are scared,” he says. “That is normal.” These are not clinical interventions. They are acts of love, deeply rooted in neuroscience. The traumatized brain needs co-regulation, safety, rhythm, and connection. It needs someone else’s calm nervous system to help it settle.

Too Little, Too Late?

Despite diplomatic gestures, such as the UK’s conditional recognition of a Palestinian state and France’s unconditional recognition, these actions may come too late for children like Judy and Sarah.

Neuroscience shows that brain regions like the amygdala and hippocampus can be permanently altered by extreme grief, fear, and deprivation. By the time world leaders offer recognition, these children’s pains are already etched into their brains, far beyond the reach of a global conscience that wakes up too late.

This article is not a call for pity. It is a call for you to remember the children of Gaza not as statistics, but as minds and hearts trying to survive the unthinkable.

When the world has no space for their stories, we must make space on our pages and in our hearts. Never feel helpless because that is the first step towards normalising genocide. We can teach our children empathy. We can support mental health initiatives. We can amplify the stories of children suffering in Gaza. We can remember, and in remembering, we refuse to let the world forget.