Ritaj Abdulrahman Rihan was nine years old and in the third grade. She liked mathematics. On the morning of Thursday, April 9th, she dressed herself, walked to school, and sat down inside a canvas tent in Beit Lahiya, in the northern Gaza Strip, to work through a problem in her notebook. Israeli gunfire struck the tent and killed her in front of her classmates. Her mother, Ola, says her daughter is “a piece of my heart.”

The school where Ritaj studied was built from salvaged poles and canvas in a landscape of rubble. After more than two years of war that has flattened entire neighborhoods and killed more than 71,000 people according to Gaza’s health ministry, volunteer teachers began gathering displaced children under makeshift shelters so that something resembling childhood might continue — so that a girl might sit with a pencil and learn what numbers can do. Parents knew the risks of sending their children. They sent them anyway, because the alternative was to let the war take their childhood too.

Gaza’s Education Ministry confirmed the shooting, saying Ritaj was struck by a bullet while attending class and that her fellow students were left in “a strong psychological shock.” Palestinian health and education officials attributed the shooting to Israeli forces. The Israeli Defence Forces, reached by CBC News, said they were working to “dismantle Hamas’s military capabilities” but declined to provide details about Ritaj’s death, adding that the IDF “follows international law and takes feasible precautions to mitigate civilian harm.”

The killing came almost six months to the day after President Trump announced a ceasefire between Israel and Hamas, a deal hailed as a turning point after relentless bombardment. Humanitarian organizations assessing the ceasefire’s progress said in a recent joint report that “that hopeful promise remains largely unfulfilled.” More than 700 Palestinians have been killed since the October accord took effect. Three Israeli soldiers have also been killed. Airstrikes and gunfire continue, and residents, doctors, and foreign aid workers describe the violence as somewhat diminished in intensity but unceasing in reach. More than two million people remain sheltering in damaged buildings and makeshift tents across roughly a third of Gaza’s territory.

“If I had known that she would go to school and never come back,” Ola Rihan told CBC freelance videographer Mohamed El Saife, her voice breaking, “I wouldn’t have let her go. I would have told her that I wanted her to stay.”

On Friday, Ola received mourners in the family’s tent. She held Ritaj’s bloodstained notebook. She sat with friends on the floor, cradling the pink dress her daughter had chosen to wear to an upcoming family wedding — her uncle’s. A dress bought in anticipation of joy.

Ritaj will not attend the wedding. She will not finish the school year. She will not grow up. She was nine years old, and she loved school enough to walk there through a war.

Her mother hugs a blood stained notebook with her shattered heart.

This story draws on reporting by Yasmine Hassan of CBC News and Nidal al-Mughrabi, with videography by Mohamed El Saife and photography by Hani Abu Rezeq of Middle East Eye.