On 7 October, Shira Havron was on a short holiday in London when she woke up to “a thousand messages” and horrific news on the television.
Eleven members of her extended family were at kibbutz Be’eri, where some lived and some were visiting. “My mum told me they were hiding in safe rooms. Then at 10.30am, we lost contact with all of them.”
Over the following days, fragments of information emerged. Neighbours said the family’s houses were burned. A phone was located inside Gaza. Another was answered by a man speaking Arabic.
“We were living in the unknown. Our best hope was that they had been kidnapped,” said Havron.
By 23 October, the bodies of two uncles, an aunt and a carer had been identified. Seven other members of the family – including Yahel, three, Naveh, eight, and Noam, 12 – are assumed to be hostages.
The oldest is Shoshan Haran, 67, grandmother to Yahel and Naveh. “She is an amazing grandma,” said Havron, her niece. “She is curious, opinionated, sophisticated, noble and smart – and always has a lot of stories to tell.”
She is also dedicated to tackling the issues of global hunger after founding Fair Planet, an NGO that works with smallholders in Africa on increasing food security.
The release of four hostages in recent days was “definitely a relief” said Havron, “but we can’t celebrate because seven members of our family are still there. And we know that Hamas is fighting a psychological war as well, so nothing is certain.
“But it gave us hope that the hostages are being treated OK. This is a tiny thing to lean on in this huge uncertainty.”
Havron said they were “holding on to the idea that the children are made of strong material, and we hope they are together and can talk to each other, so when one feels down and helpless another can help.
“My biggest wish is for all suffering to end, all wars to end and this war no side should suffer. My family has Palestinian friends, that’s a big part of our life – coexistence, equality, human rights. But right now we need to get them back.”
The family are among more than 220 Israelis kidnapped by Hamas during the atrocities of 7 October, and now believed to be held in tunnels underneath Gaza as Israeli bombs rain down. Indeed, Hamas claimed last week that almost 50 hostages had been killed in airstrikes, a figure that is impossible to verify.
A flicker of hope came with the first hostage releases and the suggestion that more may be freed under a deal brokered by Qatar. Three agonising weeks after the terror of 7 October, the hostages’ families and friends are loudly calling for their release to be the Israeli government’s top priority, and that the Red Cross be given immediate access to those held captive.
Kibbutz Nir Oz had been 84-year-old Ditza Heiman’s home for 65 years: she had lived there alone since the death of her partner Zvi Shdaimah, who fled the Nazis on the Kindertransport just before the second world war.
On the morning of 7 October, Heiman heard sirens and rushed to her safe room, keeping in contact with her family by phone. But after about 10am, no one could reach her, until her phone was answered by a man shouting: “It’s Hamas, it’s Hamas.”
Later a neighbour told Heiman’s family that she had been taken, crying for help, by terrorists. A video later posted by Hamas on social media showed her being pulled along, with fear visible on her face. Since then, nothing.
“She is a remarkable lady,” said her niece, who lives in the UK and did not want to be named. “She was a social worker, helping children until the age of 80, very devoted to her job and brilliant at it.
“She’s a great-grandmother, incredibly hospitable, always welcoming, always cooking delicious meals for family and friends. She is warm, wise and compassionate, a woman of peace.
“It’s just devastating to think of her in such a challenging and difficult environment. But she is strong and determined and she’ll bring those qualities to bear on the situation. I’m sure she’ll be trying to help other people held alongside her.”
The release of hostages had brought “a measure of hope”. “But it has also reinforced our resolve – hostages are alive and their lives can be saved. It’s imperative to do everything that can be done.”
“It’s just unfathomable to try to comprehend what she might be going through.”
Yotam Haim, a drummer in a heavy metal band, was at his apartment on kibbutz Kfar Aza, preparing for a gig in Tel Aviv that night, when the sirens started.
But hours passed, and from his safe room Yotam could hear gunshots, he told his family WhatsApp group. “None of us believed it could happen until he said the terrorists are inside my living room, shooting at the safe room door, burning. We were going crazy,” said his brother, Tuval. “In his last message, at 10.44, he told us he loves us.”
Eight days later, the family were told by the Israeli military that Yotam’s phone had been located inside Gaza at noon on 7 October – just 76 minutes after his last text. Now, said Tuval, “we have to believe he’s still alive and do everything we can.”
Yotam has “dealt with all kinds of obstacles in his life. He takes medication to help him relax. He suffers from body image issues and social insecurities. But he’s a really funny guy and a great musician.
“I don’t think anyone can know how someone will cope with a situation like this. Maybe he is realising everything is small compared to this.
“I’m happy for the released hostages and their families, but we’re not forgetting what we’re dealing with here – an evil terrorist organisation that likes to play mind games.
“We have to put our faith in our country and our army to bring him back, there’s nothing else we can do but pray.”
Forty-six-year-old Omri Miran, his wife Lishay Lavi, and their daughters Roni, two, and Alma, six months, were woken by sirens and rushed to their safe room, which is also Roni’s bedroom. Soon they got messages on WhatsApp that Hamas was inside houses.
“We could hear shooting and people speaking Arabic. Omri left the safe room to get two knives. We were terrified,” said Lavi.
Later, Hamas brought a teenage neighbour to bang on the door. The boy said the men would shoot him and the family unless they opened up. “We realised we had no choice.”
The couple and their small daughters were taken to the house of another family, whose 18-year-old daughter had been killed. Eventually four adults in the group, including Omri, had their hands tied and were led away.
“Roni was terrified, screaming. She tried to go with her daddy, I had to hold her back. I told Omri I love him and not to be a hero. I said do whatever they want because I want you back.”
For three weeks, the family has heard nothing. Omri, a shiatsu healer, was “a strong man, mentally”, said Lavi. “He is a father that is like a mother, and I am the career one.”
Lavi and the girls are now living temporarily on another kibbutz. “We have lost our home, our car, everything. But there is a good community around us.”
Roni and Alma cling to their mother, day and night. “Roni cries a lot, and asks where her father is. She’s just two years old, it’s not easy to explain. Every night we read Goodnight Moon before bed. She calls out ‘goodnight daddy’ in her little voice.”
