Every day, morning and night, Wiwwaeo Sriaoun prays for the safe return of her son, Watchara. It is now one year since he was taken hostage by Hamas, one of dozens of Thai migrant workers kidnapped from the farms on which they were working in southern Israel on 7 October, last year.
From her home in a sleepy, rural village in Udon Thani, north-east Thailand, Wiwwaeo has followed every development in the devastating and spiralling war that has erupted tens of thousands of miles away since Hamas’s attack on Israel.
“How is he surviving there? Is he safe? Is he still alive? How is he eating? How is he sleeping?” asks Wiwwaeo, 53. The lack of news has been unbearable.
“I have to keep going because my son still has not returned, and his daughter, my granddaughter, is still little,” she says.
Watchara’s daughter, Irada, whose nickname is Nuu Dee (similar in meaning to “Little Miss Good” or “Little Good Girl”) is now nine years old. At first, she would ask whether her father was still working and when he would return. “She watches the news, and her friends at school ask her about it, and so we told her the truth: that her father was captured, but he is still alive. He’s not dead,” says Wiwwaeo. Someday, they hope, he will come back to pick her up and take her to school again.
Irada’s grandfather, Tom, had been taking her to school while her father was away working, but the stress of the past year has exacerbated his ill health, and the family was forced to move her to a new school closer to their village.
Tom, 58, has been admitted to hospital three times since 7 October, after experiencing a stroke, lung infection, and muscle weakness. “We thought he wouldn’t survive. It was very, very bad,” says Wiwwaeo. He began to experience memory loss. “He couldn’t remember his family – his children, his grandchildren – he couldn’t remember anyone. He only remembered that his son had been captured.”
When he was admitted to hospital, he would yell “release my son, release my son”. “That was the only thing he said,” said Wiwwaeo.
The family faced further tragedy in August, when Irada’s mother died after being diagnosed with systemic lupus erythematosus, an autoimmune disease. Irada spoke at her mother’s funeral, and sang a special song, but did not cry, says Wiwwaeo. “She is strong.”
Despite everything, Irada had adapted to her new school and made friends, and has helped her grandmother, who is less confident with technology, to use her phone to stay in touch with contacts in Israel as they try to gather updates.
Watchara moved to work in Israel three years ago, aged 31, with his younger brother. They were determined to save up money and pay off the family’s debts. They wanted their parents not to have to worry about money any more, and hoped for a fresh start for their own families. The salaries in Israel, between 40,000 and 60,000 baht (about £920-£1,380), were double what they could make back home on their family’s rubber plantation. The two brothers got together and made a plan to go abroad. When they told Wiwwaeo, she had no reason to be concerned.
Israel is a common destination for Thai migrant workers. About 30,000 Thai nationals were working in Israel before the war, mostly in the agricultural sector. Since the 7 October attacks, the Israeli government said they made up the largest single group of foreign dead and missing. So far, 23 Thais have been released after diplomatic efforts that involved neighbouring Malaysia – which has ties with Hamas, having hosted its leaders in the past – as well as Qatar, Israel, Egypt, Iran and the International Committee of the Red Cross.
Six Thais, including Watchara, are still being held. In total, 41 Thais have been killed.
Watchara did not speak much about his work in Israel. When he called, it was mostly to tell his mother when he would send money home. Wiwwaeo would catch snippets of his daily life by following the Facebook livestreams posted by his colleagues: videos of them learning how to harvest avocados, collecting pomegranates and eating Thai food together at dinner time.
He had reassured her that the conditions were OK and that he was safe. “He said that in the centre of the village, not far from their workplace, there was a bunker, dug into the ground, and that it was solid and safe,” Wiwwaeo says. “He said the condition of the bunker was good – there was air conditioning and food. I felt reassured and relieved,” she says. Wiwwaeo told him that, if ever anything were to happen, he should rush there immediately.
It was not until late on 7 October that Wiwwaeo learned something was wrong. She had been trying to contact Watchara since the previous evening, but had not been able to reach him. Watchara’s younger brother, who was based in the north of Israel, told her there had been an attack in the area where Watchara was staying. She kept ringing the younger son, asking for updates. “Tell Watchara to go to the bunker,” she said. The family were unable to reach him.
Wiwwaeo’s youngest son had initially tried to protect her from knowing the scale of the violence, but told her to prepare for the worst. All she could do was cry.
It was not until later on that a journalist told her that her son’s name was included on a list of people taken hostage.
The whole family has pulled together to try following the news and bring Watchara back. Relatives helped to gather information by posting on social media and messaging contacts who stayed in the same area. A local person who lives in the village where Watchara was taken sends updates, including of a local protest calling for a ceasefire, and the list of hostages being held.
The family has followed every development in the conflict – the negotiations, and the release of other hostages. Wiwwaeo messages local officials or his company to ask for updates. Initially they would speak on the phone but, as time has passed, this has tapered off into messages. They can only offer words of encouragement; there’s no news to share.
Wiwwaeo, who is Christian, finds strength through her faith. Ever since the events of last year, her church has prayed for Watchara’s return. On 7 October it will hold a special prayer ceremony for him. The congregation believes he is still alive and will return, says Wiwwaeo. “I hope that he is safe.” All she wants is news that he is coming home soon.
