This August saw the return of around 3,800 evacuated residents to around 40 towns and kibbutzim in the area around Gaza, following the expiration of the government evacuation order. According to the Tekuma Administration, which is responsible for rebuilding communities in the Gaza envelope, only 11 towns and kibbutzim are still officially under evacuation order, and more than 70% of the population has already returned. Davar spoke to four returning residents about how their lives have changed since October 7 and their thoughts moving forward.
“There are friends who have already told me they will not come and visit”
Fabian Afran-Eliahu, 45, from Moshav Pri Gan
Fabian Afran-Eliahu, 45, moved with her husband and two children to the moshav of Pri Gan, in the Eshkol region not far from Gaza, just last August. After the October 7 attack on Pri Gan, in which five security team members from nearby Kibbutz Shlomit were killed defending the moshav, the kibbutz was evacuated. Even though she has an apartment in central Israel as well, Afran-Eliahu chose to spend that entire period in the hotel the community was evacuated to and chose to return to the moshav.
Why did you decide to come to Eshkol?
We have an apartment in Ness Ziona, and my job is also in central Israel—but I realized years ago that I needed to get away from the center because it simply doesn’t suit me. We fell in love with the Eshkol region because it has the most beautiful sunsets in the country. When I moved to Pri Gan, I felt at home, a sense of sanity, and a feeling of family. There isn’t the relentless chase for money there, and you can simply enjoy life.
After everything that happened, you could have just broken the contract and not returned.
It was clear to me that I was coming back. On October 7, we were abroad, and when we returned, we moved from friends’ places to friends’ places. One day, the community coordinator, whom I barely knew, called me and told me to leave everything and come to the hotel in Eilat to be with the community. We arrived in Eilat, and I feel that I was fortunate—I knew the community, it was like a family. For me today, it’s either returning to the life I fled from in the center or choosing what felt like home.
How are you preparing for the return home?
I arrived last week to clean all the spider webs that had accumulated over ten months, and I also bought a lot of supplies. This coming weekend, we’re bringing friends from the center to spend Shabbat with us. We have two weeks to prepare for the school year, and the issue of the schools is still a very difficult point of contention in the community, which has really torn the council apart. In my opinion, it was not a good move to split the children between the schools, but on the other hand, if there is a mother who feels unsafe sending her child to school, we need to provide her with an alternative.
What was your family’s reaction to your choice to return?
My mother is extremely anxious about me. She respects my decision but thinks I’m making a mistake. The children drove me crazy in the hotel and I just want to get back to Pri Gan. My eldest son is 9 years old. His teacher is a widow who lost her husband on October 7, and I had to explain that to him. I also needed to explain that there were terrorists in our moshav, that there are sirens and that there will be sirens.
What feels different in your life today?
There are those who think that from now on Eshkol will only flourish and that the worst is behind us. The truth is that no one knows how life will look from now on. I have friends who have explicitly told me that they will not come to visit me.
Personally, I have started the process of obtaining a firearm license and have arranged a safe room to be a kind of bunker. We are also creating an evacuation plan for ourselves in case of an invasion to be as safe as possible. There is no complete security in this return, but enjoying life and living it the way that I would like—for me, that can only be at Pri Gan.
“My husband was buried here at the beginning of the war: now I am adjusting to living at home again”
Sarah Makeb, 81, from Kibbutz Mefalsim
Sarah Makeb, 81, is a long-time resident of Kibbutz Mefalsim, one of the largest kibbutzim near Gaza. Makeb returned with a group of elderly kibbutz members after 10 months staying at the Accadia Hotel in Herzliya. Makeb was evacuated from the kibbutz under fire along with her husband Hugo, who died a few days after leaving the kibbutz.
You returned to the kibbutz as part of a general decision made by the elderly residents to return, but personally did you want to come back to the kibbutz?
Certainly. This is my home. My husband was buried here at the beginning of the war, and now I am adjusting to living at home again. Since the evacuation and the funeral, I have been here only once to pick up medication. In the kibbutz I have a daughter, three grandchildren, and two great-grandchildren. The group of elderly residents decided a long time ago to organize a return to kick-start the general return.
On Sunday, when we arrived, we were greeted at the kibbutz center with all of our belongings, music, and food. It was a welcome with a lot of tears, but also a lot of laughter.
What have you been doing in the days since you returned?
I have been endlessly cleaning ten months worth of dirt. I had to empty out everything that had expired, fill the cabinets and shelves with new items we brought from the hotel, and throw away the old ones. There are many volunteers in the kibbutz who cook for us and help with organizing, but I manage. My house is right on the fence, and when I do laundry and hang it up, I see the remains of what’s left of Beit Hanoun [the nearby city in Gaza].
Is it frightening?
I have been in the kibbutz for 63 years, and nothing ever happened to us. We’ve gone through all the wars and were never afraid. The thought of not returning never crossed my mind, even for a second. Although this time it was different, and it did scare me. They entered our house. Today, I’m not afraid, just sad.
Has your family also returned?
My eldest son was about to build a house here and invested hundreds of thousands of shekels in it, but for now, he is not coming back. He says he needs peace and quiet for the children and wants to assess the situation further. Another grandson of mine is from [the nearby kibbutz of] Kfar Aza, so all his best friends were murdered. It’s a very hard situation.
I understand those who are not returning. From what I know, about 60% of our young people will not come back. They say: we need some peace, we’ll rent an apartment and see what happens in another year. That’s the opinion of most young people with small children.
Was your husband ill with any disease before the war?
No, he was completely healthy. At the hospital they identified a liver tumor, but you know that doesn’t develop so quickly. I’m sure it was the stress, anxiety, and running from place to place. Sleeping one night here and one night there. Hearing about everything that happened to our friends. Being surrounded by crying children in the hotel, who had seen the dead. He had a very hard time with that, and his body couldn’t hold up.
We did the eulogy at the hotel, but it was very important to me to bury him here in the kibbutz, despite the fighting in the area. At the funeral, there were ten people, surrounded by soldiers.”
“We get everything ourselves, almost everything is funded by donations”
Noam Rupman, 46, from Kibbutz Nir Am
Noam Rupman, 46, is from Kibbutz Nir Am, less than a mile from the border with Gaza. A member of the kibbutz's emergency response team, he is returning home with his wife and three children after ten months at Herods Hotel in Tel Aviv.
For a while there was an attempt to extend the evacuation period of Kibbutz Nir Am due to the ongoing fighting in Gaza. However, that was unsuccessful. How does it feel to return?
It’s very hard. We tried very hard to maintain some level of community, but the community has dispersed significantly, and this is the biggest crisis in kibbutz history. For months we requested to extend the evacuation because we felt that returning was not safe for us and our children.
Unfortunately, the senior military officials who came to speak with us were arrogant when they said it was possible to return 100%, and the Tekuma Administration simply didn’t take us into account. The proposal offered to those who wish not to return is a joke. It is currently being debated in the High Court, but we have no time. The hotel closes on Thursday—where are we meant to go?
The Tekuma Administration said they tried to find a fair solution that is acceptable to the authorities. What do you think went wrong?
The Tekuma Administration came with good intentions, but they lack experience and encountered obstacles with the treasury and the politicians. Their focus was solely on real estate issues, on how to rehabilitate real estate, how to budget for real estate. I was at 99% of the meetings with [outgoing Tekuma Administration head] Moshe Edri, and there was almost nothing that considered the residents and how their lives would look.
What do you feel is missing from their proposal?
There is no security. The fact that missiles continue to be fired is one thing, but what about everything else? Three terrorists entering at night is enough to cause harm. The most difficult problem is that when the state declares the end of the war, the situation will likely become even more dangerous because the soldiers will disappear again.
How do you deal with the lack of security?
We rely only on ourselves. We train, arm ourselves. We get everything ourselves, almost everything is funded by donations. What should have happened is that until the state declares the end of fighting, all the communities within a two kilometer radius should be designated as combat zones—because in practice, we are in a combat zone. But instead, they decide to operate according to the “red communities” method—which, when looked at, seems to be mostly a real estate issue. As if the physical danger to homes is the only thing that matters.
So why return?
I am also happy that we’re returning. I love the kibbutz. But many people, especially the young families, should have been allowed to return gradually and slowly, so that they wouldn’t leave altogether. This is a disagreement I encounter at home. My wife would have been happy to have a little more time. My eldest daughter already told us in March: I know there is a war, but I want to go home. Right now it’s still not clear where her school will be. Looking at the past year and the coming one, I say that they are lost years for the children.
“How do you get up and run a household after leaving the hotel?”
Karmel Bardugo Shatzki, 30, from Kibbutz Karmia
Karmel Bardugo Shatzki came to Kibbutz Karmia, located in between Ashkelon and Gaza, seven years ago. Her three children were born on the kibbutz. When the community was evacuated following October 7, the family lived first in a hotel in Kibbutz Nahsholim and later in a rented apartment in Ashkelon.
How does it feel to return home for the first time after ten months?
We are excited to return to Karmia, to the life we had before October 7. At the same time, there are also many fears. We’ve been without the community for almost a year, and I see significant social impacts. When my daughter left the kibbutz, she was less than four years old, and now she’s almost five. Everything is different, and it requires a new explanation. My youngest, who is a year and half old, has spent more time outside of the kibbutz than inside it.
Is the return meeting your expectations?
There was a thought that when we would return everything would be 100%. Everything would be safe, the security situation would be different, and especially the way people in Israel think would change. Senior military officials told us back in January that we could actually return, but they also directly told us that the security situation in the area would not change for at least the next year and half. There is a certain gap between what is felt and desired versus reality. This is not a complete return, and there is a certain compulsoriness to it. It feels like I have no choice but to come back home.
What is the most noticeable change in the transition?
In my transition from the hotel to our temporary apartment in Ashkelon, I suddenly felt a decline—in the inability to maintain the house, in cooking. It’s a real erosion of basic living skills. Now this question is more pressing—how do you get up and run a household again? How do you care for your own family and children in your own home? I was separated for months from my friends and community, and now it’s about finding yourself again in this place, settling into all the community roles that are going to change.
In these communities close to Gaza, the fighting is still felt in daily life. IDF gunfire, sirens. How do you talk to children about returning home?
If I felt more protected in north Tel Aviv, I would move there. But I don’t. I’ve seen with my own eyes over the past year so many areas in the country that are not fortified; it’s absurd. There’s no recipe for safety anywhere in the country. It’s the same around the world. I don’t feel there is a place that is safe for me as a Jewish and Israeli person.
Do you feel the same things about your children?
My eldest daughter didn’t know what a safe room was or what a red alert was before October 7, because our family tactic was always to leave before the chaos and return once it was over. Suddenly we found ourselves 13 hours in a safe room with questions like: Why can’t we go outside? What happens if you get hit by a missile? Why are soldiers guarding the kindergarden? Why are there dead children? There’s no clear answer on how to deal with these questions. Before we returned here, I took her for a visit. We didn’t go into the house; we just walked around the kibbutz with all the explosions around, and we talked about our feelings. I think she has a lot of conflicts in her mind, like: How is it that I’m bringing her back to her home, which is supposed to be a safe place, but there is still a war there?
Did you ever consider that it might be better to extend the evacuation, even if it is at your own expense?
I decided that we are returning and I’m not going to continue wrestling with that question. Our approach is to give the return a chance. I don’t want to say what will be, how it will be, or what will make me leave or stay. I hope things will turn positive from here, and I hope to hold on to that hope.
