Leiden University College writing project brings students together: ‘I am a kitchen in Gaza, and now it is dark’
What happens when students from three very different contexts come together to explore the social determinants of health? This spring, students from Leiden University College partnered with university students in Gaza and Myanmar to find out.
As part of the Global Health, Innovation and Society course ‘Social Determinants of Health’, LUC students teamed up with aspiring medical and bachelor students navigating the realities of educational disruptions due to conflict. Through collaborative storytelling and online exchange, the students explored how concepts like economic inequality, environmental stressors, and social exclusion manifest across borders—and how theory meets lived experience.
Understanding the social determinants of health
Guided by themes such as food security, green spaces, and economic instability, student groups worked together to co-create short narrative pieces. Each story was grounded in real experiences: the taste of strawberries fading from memory in Myanmar, public parks in Amsterdam, and access to fresh produce in Gaza. In these seemingly simple stories, complex intersections of policy, identity and inequality came to light.
The process of collaboration also brought unexpected personal growth. Savanna Raidt, one of the LUC students involved, described how the group dynamic evolved from hesitant beginnings to something far more open and enriching. Initially unsure of what to expect, she noted how ‘each week, we grew more comfortable,’ eventually developing a sense of mutual understanding and connection. For her, the value lay not only in the final stories but in the shared experience of creating them.
Story below is from group 5:
The kitchen that went silent
I am a kitchen. According to the dictionary this means I am a space where food is prepared and cooked. I am a kitchen in Gaza. According to newspaper headlines this means I am either empty, dusty, or bombed to the ground. While this might be true for some of us, there is more to the story. I used to be a place of comfort, providing a space to find entertainment in cooking.
I am a kitchen in Gaza after October 7th, 2023. I used to be bubbling and bursting with all the good things life had to offer, but things are very different now. My closest friend, the refrigerator, has not been herself in a while, her corner looks darker than it used to, as if cast in shadow even though sunlight filters through the window. Her door does not open as much as it used to, there is no reason to because there is nothing there, nothing from minor snacks to essential meats. The stove, too, has lost her spark, we have tried to reignite her flame but to no avail. My insides also feel hollow, my cabinets feel lighter than they ever were and my counters are emptier than I have ever seen them. No bowls lined with a layer of crepe batter in my corner, no freshly hot pans on my stove, no flour residue on my floor, no dirty dishes in my sink, I feel empty. For a while there was still a singular bag of wheat in the corner, but she disappeared quickly and did not return. I used to be a space for pleasure, now I am a space filled with stress and exhaustion.
There were times when the eggs, the flour, the milk, and the butter would all come over and dance with the bowls, the pans, and the plates. The smell of crepes would surround me, and the sound of laughter would reach my every crevice. I miss it, and I will cherish those memories forever. I am a kitchen in Gaza and I would like to say, please appreciate the blessing of food.
Written by:
Deema Abu Sultan, Hay Mi Jue (SDH-26), May Thet Sun (SDH-15), Nay Wunn Myat (SDH-17), Kioni Surborg, Jay Honkanen and Jana Camek
Education in conflict zones
The collaboration wasn’t without challenges. Internet blackouts, security risks, and language barriers required flexibility and patience. Some students joined anonymously to protect their identities. Others coordinated across time zones using a patchwork of Zoom, WhatsApp, and cloud documents. Together, they built a workflow that prioritised inclusion.
‘I only ever saw one person on camera,’ recalls Dolça Collado Garcia, a third-year LUC student in the major. ‘Everyone else kept their cameras off for security reasons. And I only knew the names of three people in my group—the rest were just numbers, also because of safety concerns’
The experience also raised thoughtful questions about privilege, access, and the role of language in global education. As students navigated these complexities, they discovered unexpected solidarity—and a shared sense of purpose. The collaboration also highlighted the benefits of small-scale interactive education where the focus could be on exchange.
The role of technology in global education
For many participants, tools such as ChatGPT, reflected a desire to keep up with their peers at LUC. When the time came to write up the final reports, the focus shifted to exploring how digital tools could support, rather than override, authentic voice. The result? Co-authored narratives that honoured individual perspectives while weaving together a collective understanding of health and human rights.
Below story is from group 1:
Experience of being pregnant in Myanmar
Before the war, she was a government schoolteacher. But now, her life is nothing like it used to be. These days, she must wake up before dawn because the hospital is far from her refugee camp. With her due date only a month away, she can no longer travel by motorbike. Instead, she must rent a car, which is expensive.
But last night, she barely slept. Airstrikes shook the ground as the military launched attacks in her region. The fear never leaves her, but she doesn’t have the luxury of rest. This morning, she must make it to the hospital before it gets too crowded. Even though her pregnancy is in the third trimester, she doesn't know the gender of her baby yet. She worries about her baby's safety as she has travelled on rough roads by motorbike and car, fearing that the constant jolts might affect her pregnancy. However, despite her exhaustion, she forces herself to prepare for the journey.
The hospital that provides prenatal care only opens once a month. If she doesn’t arrive early, she might not get a proper check-up. Before leaving for the hospital, she checks her wallet—counting her money again and again, making sure she has enough. With inflation skyrocketing after the coup, the prices of vitamins and minerals have doubled, sometimes tripled, even reaching four or five times their original cost. To avoid spending even a few extra coins, she carefully packs her food.
She wonders:
‘Is this enough to pay the hospital fees?
Is this enough for transportation?
Is this enough if I have to wait all day?
Is this enough to buy a simple snack?’
Even though the refugee camps provide financial support for pregnant women, it is nowhere near enough. Every decision she makes is about survival—not just for herself, but for her unborn child. ‘It’s okay. I only have one month left until I deliver my child.
After that, everything will be okay… won’t it?
Will I be okay?
Am I truly okay?
Am I really, really okay?’
Written by:
Haytham Abuzaid, Brynn Cochran, Jasper Jansen, Dolça Collado, Lama Mouharb, Hesham Al Amassi, Khant Lin Paing (SDH -08), Soe Yu Ya Aung (SDH -30) en Khin Myat Mon (SDH -42)
A global learning moment
In the final presentations, the impact of the project came into focus. Students from Myanmar and Gaza (some presenting for the first time at a university) shared their stories through a digital connection in one of the lecture halls at Leiden University College in The Hague, cheered on by their classmates globally. The atmosphere was one of mutual respect, curiosity, and inspiration.
As Jana Camek, a participating LUC student, reflected: ‘While we were working on this project, I realized how valuable it was to get insight almost directly from the source. You’re in conversation with people who are actually living these experiences, and that makes it feel much more personal.’
Collective storytelling plays a vital role in cultivating mutual understanding, a practice that is especially crucial in today’s divided and complex world. This collaboration offers a glimpse into what global education can look like when borders, time zones, and lived realities are embraced rather than avoided. It reminds everyone involved that Liberal Arts and Sciences education thrives when we learn with, not just about, others.