In 2014, Diego Ibarra Sánchez was photographing at a school in Iraq. The building was pockmarked with craters from mortar shelling that obliterated an Islamic State encampment that had sought refuge there. In one classroom, Iraqi soldiers kicked around the head of an Islamic State fighter like a soccer ball. A severed leg sat atop a desk behind them.

Gruesomeness like this is a common sight for Mr. Ibarra.

Since 2009, he has traveled among Iraq, Syria, Lebanon and Pakistan as a photojournalist. After witnessing teachers, children and schools continually caught in the crossfire of war, he quietly began working on his own documentary project titled “Hijacked Education.”

During a Skype interview from Iraq, Mr. Ibarra’s voice faltered when he described the havoc and violence he has seen inflicted on an entire generation of school-age children. “War is only the tip of the iceberg for them,” he said.

While there has been coverage of the devastated conditions of these schools, Mr. Ibarra said much of it has focused on the resilience of students who continue to seek an education despite the obstacles. One such Pakistani student, Malala Yousafzai, came into the worldwide spotlight in 2012 after being shot by the Taliban — when she was just 15 — for her advocacy of education for girls.

Mr. Ibarra had hoped the attention given to Ms. Yousafzai would have spurred action to help other students like her in the war-torn region. Instead, he watched the cameras simply leave to chase the next story.

He decided to remain, and go deeper.

The school desks in his photographs do not have amateur graffiti tags or love notes, only carvings of an assault rifle. The chairs, for the most part, are empty and piled atop each other in corners. On the floor, amid rubble, are tattered notebooks, textbooks and identification cards. The walls, if there are any, have large holes blasted through them. When there are students present, their eyes are averted and their bodies are cloaked by shadows.

In some photographs, students are replaced by baby-faced soldiers with machine guns slung across their chests. Mr. Ibarra said that schools have become popular bases for both terrorist groups and the military in recent years. It makes sense: Schools are solid structures, have blackboards that can be used for planning and contain many private rooms that may be used for sleeping quarters — or more sinister purposes.

What this means is that schools have also become the sites of some of the worst violence during the war, a reality that Mr. Ibarra finds tough to bear. His mother was a teacher for 40 years, and he recently became a father. The eternal question of whether education is a privilege or a right is constantly on his mind.

“Violence, extremism, intolerance and fear are wiping out the future of an entire generation for thousands of children,” he said. He noted that many children are behind on their studies, a loss that will haunt them for years to come and affect their ability to rebuild their lives after the war ends. If it ends.

He feels that it his duty to drive those who view his photographs head on into the nightmare students in the Middle East face. “Some keep going to schools, but the nightmare is always there,” he said. “War does not end when someone raises a flag.”

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