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The coalition leader behind the report called the figures "a warning that the global norms that once protected children are collapsing," and "the world is drifting toward a place where even the youngest are no longer off‑limits.”
From the Gaza Strip to Ukraine and beyond, violent attacks on students, teachers, and schools have surged in recent years, according to a report released Monday by an international coalition.
The report, titled "Education Under Attack 2026," documents at least 8,566 attacks on education and cases of military forces using educational facilities from the beginning of 2024 to the end of last year, a more than 40% increase from the previous two-year period.
"We believe the true increase is far higher," noted Felicity Pearce, lead researcher for the Global Coalition to Protect Education from Attack (GCPEA) report, in a statement. "Escalating conflict, shrinking humanitarian access, and widespread information blackouts mean many attacks are never reported."
The 2024-25 attacks harmed at least 10,600 students, educators, and other personnel across 83 countries, including 55 that are not in active conflict. GCPEA found the highest incidence in Colombia, the Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC), Ethiopia, Haiti, Palestine, and Ukraine, while Cameroon, Myanmar, Nigeria, and Yemen had the greatest numbers of people harmed or killed.
"Cameroon continued to face overlapping security crises, which continued to heavily affect civilians in 2024-2025, marked by persistent violence in the Far North region and protracted armed conflict in the Northwest and Southwest regions," the report explains. GCPEA recorded at least 67 attacks on schools, 85 attacks on students and staff, and 11 reports of military use of educational facilities.
It's now been a decade since the Colombian government and the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia signed peace accords, but GCPEA still identified at least 160 reports of attacks on educational facilities, 129 reports of attacks on students and personnel, and 107 reports of military use of schools.
In the DRC, as "armed conflict intensified" between the Rwandan Defense Force-backed March 23 Movement and the Congolese national armed forces—supported by Burundi's military and allied militias—there were at least 350 attacks on schools, 15 attacks on students and staff, and 313 cases of military use of facilities.
"Conflict in Ethiopia continued to impact access to education for millions of children," the publication states. GCPEA tracked around 100 attacks on schools and seven on students and personnel—though acknowledged monitoring and reporting challenges—as well as approximately 1,200 schools used for military purposes, a sharp increase from the previous period.
"As armed gangs in Haiti merged and gained control over more of the country, escalating violence included attacks on schools, school students, and staff, as well as the military use of schools, and disrupted education for over 1.2 million children," according to the report. Specifically, there were at least 339 attacks on schools, 55 attacks on students and staff, and 27 reports of military use of facilities.
In Myanmar, "as internal conflict intensified between the military junta that seized power in February 2021 and armed resistance groups," GCPEA tracked 212 attacks on schools, 18 attacks on students and personnel, and 84 military occupations.
As armed conflict between the Nigerian government and non-state armed groups continued during the reporting period, attacks on schools dropped slightly, to nine, while attacks on students and staff were consistent, at 14—but at least 90 people were killed or injured, and over 700 were abducted. There were at least five incidents of the military using schools.
"Israel continued to commit genocidal violence against the Palestinian population in Gaza," the report says, and there were increased attacks on schools, students, and teachers in both the coastal strip—where most educational buildings have been "severely damaged"—and the occupied West Bank. Across Palestine, GCPEA identified at least 620 attacks on schools, 2,400 attacks on students and staff, and 10 cases of the military use of educational facilities.
As Ukrainian forces continued to fight Russian invaders, GCPEA tracked more than 900 attacks on schools and at least one case of military use of a school. The report also points out that "1,611 schools had been damaged or destroyed since the start of the full-scale invasion, including at least 339 that had been completely destroyed," forcing 741,000 children to study in a hybrid format, and another 443,000 to learn entirely online.
In Yemen, "a fragile truce largely held through 2024 and 2025," but the continued battle among the internationally recognized government, Houthi forces, and regional actors meant there were still at least 16 attacks on schools, 62 attacks on students and staff, and 63 cases of military use of facilities.
Lisa Chung Bender, director of the GCPEA, told The Guardian that the report's findings "are a warning that the global norms that once protected children are collapsing."
"A warning that the world is drifting toward a place where even the youngest are no longer off‑limits," she said. "And a warning that if we do not hold the line now, we may never get it back."
The report urges support for the Safe Schools Declaration, and features recommendations for governments and civil society.
Its release follows the latest publication from the Explosive Weapons Monitor, which was released last week and documents at least 22,616 civilian fatalities from explosive weapons across 65 countries and territories last year. The monitor found 1,416 attacks on education in 2025, a 64% increase from 2024, and also highlighted Myanmar, Palestine, and Ukraine.
This Earth Month, as we reflect on the power we hold, we should recognize that some of the most profound acts of environmental stewardship begin not with planting or preservation, but with making the ground safe enough to stand on.
During the 1960s, America was deep in the throes of the US War in Vietnam. In addition to student protests of the war, there were also “teach-ins”—gatherings that questioned not just the war, but the systems behind it, on campuses all across the country. This anti-war movement inspired the start of another; the fight for environmental protection, giving birth to Earth Month in 1970.
Earth Month is not only a moment of reflection about sustainability and the protection of the environment; it is a test of what we choose to do with what we know. This year’s theme, “Our Power, Our Planet,” asks us to consider where power truly lives. In Laos and Ukraine, the answer is clear: It lives in the land and its people.
Land feeds families and shapes culture. It determines whether a child grows up with stability or scarcity. In Laos, more than 70% of the population depends on agriculture. Golden green glutinous, or “sticky,” rice fields stretch across the country, joined by cassava, coffee, and vegetables that sustain both households and local markets. In Ukraine, fertile black soil has long made the country a cornerstone of the global food system, feeding more than 400 million people through exports of wheat, corn, barley, and sunflower seed.
In both countries, the land carries a hidden burden.
Safe land means farmers can plant without fear, invest in their futures, and pass on their livelihoods to the next generation.
Between 1964 and 1973, the US dropped at least 2.5 million tons of ordnance on Laos, with nearly a third failing to detonate. Today, unexploded ordnance litters every province, leaving a quarter of villages affected. Fertile ground is laced with danger.
Ukraine is now becoming all too familiar with this reality. Over four years into Russia’s full-scale invasion, over a quarter of its land is estimated to be contaminated with explosive remnants of war. Just like in Laos, their legacy will endure for generations.
For farmers, this threat is daily life.
In Ukraine, images circulate of tractors moving steadily through fields under gray skies, in rain, even under fire. There is a kind of grim humor in the idea that farmers will cultivate their land no matter the obstacle. Beneath the dark humor of those internet memes is a gritty determination to survive.
In Laos, that risk has been a constant for decades.
Mae Tao Seesom was just in her early 20s during the war in Laos. She remembers having to hide in caves to avoid danger. Unable to farm their land, she and fellow villagers had to harvest what grew in the forest.
Decades after the war, in 2019, Mae Tao Seesom was cooking for her grandchildren when a cluster bomb exploded under her fire. Luckily, no one was injured. This time.
In Ukraine, Oksana Lukiyanchuk’s newly inherited farm is only 35 kilometers from the front lines; she moved to her own farm in 2021 to generate a livelihood for her young family and a legacy to pass on to her newborn son. Only months later, Russia invaded.
The war has drained her workforce; she now works her land with just one hired hand. Under constant threat of drones, Oksana continues to build her business; as a fifth-generation farmer, her ties to the soil here keep her from leaving. This sense of belonging emanates widely among Ukrainian farmers, and is the reason many continue to risk everything to grow on these front lines.
What lies beneath the soil does more than threaten lives; it constrains entire economies.
In Laos, farmers often avoid deep plowing or expanding irrigation for fear of what they might uncover. The result is lower yields and lost potential. Infrastructure—from roads to schools to clinics—cannot move forward without clearance. Decades after the last bombs fell, vast areas of land remain unused.
Ukraine now stands at the beginning of a similar economic struggle. Agriculture is one of its largest sectors, with consequences far beyond its borders. Smaller farms face labor shortages as workers are drawn into military service. Larger producers race to maintain supply chains under constant disruption.
Yet, this is not a story of helplessness. It is a story of leadership.
In Laos, unexploded ordnance clearance has become a national priority, embedded in its development strategy and backed by decades of commitment. Progress has been steady: Casualties have declined, and more land is made safe each year. National institutions, international organizations, and local communities work in concert, ensuring that clearance efforts reach those most in need.
In Ukraine, that same sense of urgency has taken root with remarkable speed. Organizations like Fondation Suisse de Déminage hire hundreds of explosive ordnance risk educators to meet farm staff where they are—at farmers markets, in schools, and on their land—to ensure everyone living in hazardous areas knows the threat of these weapons. As the country develops new landmine technology, this risk education saves lives now, and will remain necessary for decades on.
While the risks of demining are immediate, so are the returns.
Safe land means farmers can plant without fear, invest in their futures, and pass on their livelihoods to the next generation. It allows roads to be built, markets to grow, and communities to thrive. It restores not only productivity, but dignity.
This is why demining is not simply a humanitarian effort. It is one of the most direct and effective investments in development. It strengthens food systems, reduces poverty, and builds resilience all at once.
It is also achievable.
The experience of Laos shows that progress, while gradual, is real. With sustained commitment, improved technology, and strong partnerships, contamination can be reduced, lives can be saved, and land can be returned to those who depend on it.
Ukraine’s future is not yet written. But the path ahead is clearer because others have walked it before.
If land is life, then clearing land is renewal.
This Earth Month, as we reflect on the power we hold, we should recognize that some of the most profound acts of environmental stewardship begin not with planting or preservation, but with making the ground safe enough to stand on.
In Laos and Ukraine, that work is already underway—unceasingly, by the people, and with extraordinary courage.
"Nuclear power stations have inherent risks," said an official at Greenpeace Ukraine. "In a world at war, with massive geopolitical tension and climate extremes, those risks are increasing."
The continuing conflict between Russia and Ukraine is once again raising concerns about a nucelar disaster in the region on the 40th anniversary of the catastrophic accident at the Chernobyl power plant.
Reuters reported on Monday that a Ukrainian drone the struck a transport department at the Zaporizhzhia Nuclear Power Plant, which has been under Russian control since March 2022, shortly after its armed forces invaded Ukraine.
The Russian government said that an employee at the Zaporizhzhia plant was killed in the attack, and International Atomic Energy Agency Director General Rafael Mariano Grossi reiterated in a social media post that "strikes on or near [nuclear power plants] can endanger nuclear safety and must not take place."
Russia has also engaged in dangerous attacks around nuclear power infrastructure over the last four years, and a report released this month by Greenpeace Ukraine found that the New Safe Confinement (NSC) at Chernobyl, which contains the ruins of the plant's reactor unit 4, was significantly compromised after being struck by a high-explosive warhead from a Russian drone last year.
"The Russian drone strike... destroyed the main functions of the [NSC]," the report states. "The impact of the drone on the northwest side of the NSC caused an opening... which penetrated both the outside and inside arch shells. Critical structural elements of the NSC have been deformed and damaged including the Main Crane System, making their load-bearing capability impossible to assess."
The drone strike also burned the membrane layer inside the NSC, which has taken out the ability to control humidity at the site and could lead to accelerated corrosion of the NSC's steel components.
"The NSC was designed to last 100 years on the basis that its low humidity control was maintained," notes the report. "Accelerated corrosion may reduce the 100-year design life of the structure if humidity control is not restored by 2030."
Greenpeace Ukraine nuclear expert Shaun Burnie described the damage done to the NSC as "a Russian-made war crime," and lamented it will mean "years of repairs and further delays before the sarcophagus can be safely dismantled."
Polina Kolodiazhna, senior campaigner from Greenpeace Ukraine, said on Sunday that Russia's invasion of Ukraine had added new urgency for her country to end its dependence on nuclear power given the massive environmental and human risks.
"Nuclear power stations have inherent risks, and those risks are escalating," Kolodiazhna said. "Russia, for the first time in the history of warfare, has systematically attacked and occupied nuclear plants, showing how they can be used as military and political tools. In a world at war, with massive geopolitical tension and climate extremes, those risks are increasing."