Jerusalem: Five hostages of Hamas are free, offering some hope to the families of more than 200 others snatched in southern Israel during the militants’ deadly rampage October 7.
But the families of those still in captivity have questions, such as why progress has been so slow, why some and not others are being released, and whether Israel’s punishing bombardment of the Gaza Strip puts their loved ones in danger.
Israel October 30 announced its first hostage rescue — that of army Pvt. Ori Megidish.
Hamas had earlier released Americans Judith Raanan, 59, and her daughter, Natalie, 18. Also let go were Yocheved Lifshitz, 85, along with Nurit Cooper, 79. Their husbands remain in captivity.
Hamas has said it would let the others go in return for thousands of Palestinian prisoners held by Israel, which has dismissed the offer.
Here are stories of some of the more than 200 still held.
Yarden Roman
“It’s a pity that we did not bring water with us,” 3-year-old Geffen told her father, Alon Gat, as they hid in brush from Hamas militants for 18 hours on the morning of October 7.
The two, along with Alon’s wife and Geffen’s mother, Yarden Roman, had been dragged into a car at Kibbutz Be’eri when Hamas attackers showed up. The family made a run for it under fire just before they crossed into the nearby Gaza Strip, Yarden’s brother, Gili, said during a recent visit to New York in support of hostages taken in the monthlong war.
Alon, who ran faster as he carried Geffen, emerged with their daughter from a small forest when he thought it was safe. On foot, the two made it back to Be’eri, where Israeli soldiers had arrived. The last Alon saw of his wife, she was hiding behind a tree as he fled with their child, Gili Roman said via Zoom.
The family believes Yarden deliberately lagged behind to give her family a better chance to get away.
Yarden’s sister-in-law, Carmel Gat, is also missing and Yarden’s mother-in-law, Kinneret Gat, was murdered at the kibbutz, Gili said.
To 36-year-old Yarden, family is everything, her brother said. She is also dedicated to her work as a physical therapist specializing in elder care.
“She is very timid and mostly introvert. She’s open and fun and communicative, mostly with our own small circle of family and friends,” Gili said.
Yarden is also an avid rock climber. “She did a lot of hikes around the world,” he said. “When we grew up, she was the tomboy.”
The two, with two other siblings, are dual citizens of Israel and Germany. Alon, a tour guide, and Yarden and Geffen had lived at Be’eri until recently.
“They left the kibbutz just in the beginning of September because Yarden was not willing to live under the missile attacks anymore. She couldn’t accept the breaches of security,” Gili said.
Alon and Yarden stashed their belongings in Tel Aviv with Yarden’s father, then took off on a three-week caravan trip through South Africa with Gili and other loved ones. Said Gili: “We came back just a day before it happened.”
Gong Sae Lao
Gong Sae Lao of Thailand wasn’t worried when he travelled a year ago to Israel to work as a farm hand.
Gong knew vaguely about the conflict between Israel and the Palestinians. He knew of occasional rocket attacks from the air, of skirmishes, and of tensions. But the capacity to earn a living was limited at home in northern Thailand, where Gong delivered fruits and vegetables to market. Moreover, his family was in debt, and Gong — with his father long dead and a brother in prison — was the main provider.
So he headed for Israel in November 2022 to earn wages that would give himself and his loved ones a brighter future.
But Gong’s plan went horribly awry October 7, when Hamas militants slipped into southern Israel and launched a series of bloody, coordinated attacks that ultimately claimed nearly 1,400 lives. Kibbutz Be’eri, where Gong worked, was one of the targets.
Wanwarin Yensuk of Chiang Mai, Thailand, works as the Thailand programme manager for the US-based Global Fund for Children. A fluent English speaker, she stepped forward to help Gong’s wife communicate with non-Thai speaking officials.
According to Wanwarin, the 26-year-old Gong was on Facebook Live talking to other Thai migrant workers in Israel when the attack began. Loud shooting was heard in the background. Gong’s wife was listening in. She urgently called her husband. That was the last time she heard his voice.
Four of the Thai workers in Gong’s tight-knit group, including Gong, were taken hostage, Wanwarin said. Their living quarters were burned to the ground.
Gong’s family is from the village of Mae Fah Luang, in northern Chiang Rai province. They are members of the Hmong minority.
No one from either the Israeli or Thai government has contacted Gong’s family. A local official contacted his mother about collecting a DNA sample, presumably to help identify him if his body is found.
Oded Lifshitz
Oded Lifshitz has spent his life fighting for Arab rights, but that didn’t prevent him from being abducted by Hamas militants who raided Israel on October 7.
Throughout a long career in journalism, he campaigned for the recognition of Palestinian rights and peace between Arabs and Jews. In retirement, the 83-year-old drove to the Erez border crossing on the northern edge of the Gaza Strip once a week to ferry Palestinians to medical appointments in Israel as part of a group called On the Way to Recovery.
“My father spent his life fighting for peace,” his daughter Sharone Lifschitz, who spells her surname slightly differently, told reporters last week in London. “I am his daughter. We are all his children. When we ask for peace, we ask to see the human within each of us.”
Oded and his wife, Yocheved, were among the founders of Kibbutz Nir Oz, from which they were abducted when Hamas militants raided the community and killed dozens of residents.
Yocheved Lifshitz and another elderly woman, Nurit Cooper, were freed last week. Oded Lifshitz remains in captivity.
In a lifetime devoted to building better relations with the kibbutz’s Arab neighbours, Oded was most proud of his work on behalf of the traditionally nomadic Bedouin people of the Negev Desert, Sharone Lifschitz said, describing a case that went to Israel’s High Court and resulted in the return of some of their land.
Even after last month’s events, Sharone Lifschitz believes her father still supports reconciliation — just like her mother, who shook her captor’s hand and said “shalom,” the Hebrew word for peace, as she was released.
“We should celebrate, you know, the people that are working for peace — not the people just that are working for war,” Sharone Lifschitz said. “I think that was my father’s life story.”
Clemence Mtenga and Joshua Mollel
Agriculture is Clemence Felix Mtenga’s love.
The shy, studious Tanzanian skipped his graduation ceremony from Sokoine University of Agriculture near home in the Kilimanjaro region for a year-long internship in Israel. It was his first time out of the country.
“He was so excited to learn and meet new people,” said his sister, Alphoncena Mtenga. “He wanted to start his own agri-business.”
Clemence, 22, and another Tanzanian agriculture intern, 21-year-old Joshua Loitu Mollel, were working on cow farms and living in separate kibbutzim not far from the Gaza Strip when they were taken in the October 7 rampage by Hamas militants.
Clemence had been placed at the kibbutz Nir Oz. Joshua was living at Nahal Oz. They had arrived in Israel in mid-September. Loitu Sindoeni Mollel had last spoken to Joshua, the eldest of his five children, October 5.
“I told him, you’re in a foreign country, you have to have good behaviour so you can succeed,” the father said by phone from his home in Tanzania’s Manyara region. “Now, my other children ask me every day, Where is my brother? Where is my brother?’ But I have no answers.”
Joshua, kind and outgoing, had just graduated from an agriculture college about three hours from Dar es Salaam. Like Clemence, he had never travelled outside of Tanzania. And he, too, had dreams connected to the land. “He wants to be a big farmer,” his father said.
Clemence is the youngest of four siblings in a tight-knit family, his sister said. Socially, he often kept to himself. He attended church every Sunday back home and sang in the choir.
“He has a beautiful voice,” she said. “He dreams of being a very successful person.”
Thirty-six agriculture interns from Tanzania were living near Gaza at the time of the attack, according to the human rights organization Hotline for Refugees and Migrants. The rest have been accounted for.
Bibas family
Ofri Bibas couldn’t bring herself to tell her brother, Yarden, she loved him when his home came under attack, fearing that might signal some kind of irreversible finality, she said.
Yarden Bibas, his wife, Shiri, and their sons, 4-year-old Ariel and 9-month-old Kfir, were snatched from their home in the Nir-Oz Kibbutz during the October 7 Hamas onslaught.
Her brother initially believed the volley of rocket fire was “just another bombing like we’re used to,” said Ofri Bibas, who lives elsewhere in Israel.
But he soon realised it was “something much bigger and much worse”, she said, speaking earlier this month at a rally in support of Israel in Larnaca, Cyprus, that she and other relatives of the hostages attended to raise attention to their loved ones’ plights.
Ofri Bibas said she communicated with her brother in a flurry of texts as the Hamas gunmen roamed around outside his home. She said her brother and his wife did their best to keep their sons quiet.
“Try to imagine keeping a 9-month-old and a 4-year-old kid quiet so the terrorists won’t come in,” she said.
Yarden Bibas told his sister he had a gun in the house,
AP
