A few days ago, I was walking in the Muharraq market, looking at the cranes and workers as they were restoring the walls and returning the stone to its original color after it had been eaten away by the sun and salt. In every corner there is a project, and in every gap a memory is resurrected. The faces of old people return to their small shops, and the smell of coffee wafts from the narrow alleys, while the sound of a hammer from afar reminds me that time is changing, but the memories refuse to leave. The city seems to be waking up after a long nap; She breathes again, and opens her eyes to a past that does not want to be forgotten. When you walk through those alleys, you realize that what is taking place is not just construction work, but rather a silent dialogue between stones and memory, between the effort of the present and the nostalgia of the past, between those who build for the future and those who guard the roots deep in the earth. They are sincere attempts to preserve the memory of a nation, planted anew in the hearts of future generations.
As I walked between the intertwined windows, I noticed a newly painted wall next to another bearing the cracks of time, and I remembered the old school that we used to go to on foot, carrying our heavy bags, and counting the steps between one house and another until we arrived. The alleys were narrow, but full of life; We know every face, every door, and every window watching us laugh and argue. Education at that time was not a screen or a digital connection, but rather a daily story told on the road, starting with the smell of tawa bread and ending with the sound of the bell.
Today, when I look at my children, I see them living a reality that is different from our time, but not completely separate from it. They still go to their schools every morning, carrying their bags and queuing, and laughter fills the squares as it used to be. The blackboard is still in place, even if its shape has changed. Sometimes a smart screen, sometimes a traditional whiteboard. The teacher is still present in spirit and tone, but in his hand is a tablet instead of a preparation notebook. Education has changed in appearance, but it has not lost its essence. As for distance classes, they have become a means of review or to ensure readiness, not a substitute for school. Despite all these updates, the beautiful chaos in the hallways and laughter in the recess still gives the school day its special flavor, and reminds us that school will remain more than just a screen or an electronic curriculum.
The difference between the chalk generation and the tablet generation is not only in the tools, but in the relationship with knowledge itself. Our generation was searching for information in a book, browsing the pages, looking at the pictures, and stopping at the paragraph that it only half-understood, to complete it with a question or an experiment. Today, information comes ready, concisely, effortlessly, like a quick meal. Knowledge has become consumed like content on the Internet: quickly… and forgotten minutes later.
However, it cannot be denied that today’s children have what we do not have. They learn in multiple languages, explore the world through their screens, and connect with colleagues in other countries with the push of a button. But the real challenge is to maintain a balance that makes technology a means and not an alternative, and to teach our children how to use it without losing their passion for discovery. Education does not live in devices, but in minds that know how to ask, and in hearts that rejoice in true understanding, not just a high degree.
As I left Muharraq Souq, I looked up at the ancient minarets that shook hands with the sky, and I felt that the city was exactly like us: it was beautified by the new, but it did not disavow the old. Perhaps education should learn from ancient cities; To develop without forgetting its roots. The chalk generation, despite its simplicity, knew the value of the question, and the tablet generation, despite its speed, was still searching for the meaning of the answer. Between them, we try to connect the present to the past with a thread of nostalgia, so that we do not forget where we started, nor where we are going.* Technical expert
