Day 435 Of The War: Visiting Kfar Aza

Yesterday, the Families headquarters took the volunteers on a tour of the Gaza Envelope, as we used to call this region before October 7. Nowadays, we just call it “The Envelope” because none of the other names caught on. We were two full buses, and still, there was a waiting list of volunteers who wanted to join. To be honest, I wasn’t sure I wanted to go—it felt a bit like voyeurism. But since it was organized by headquarters, and the organizers had put so much time and effort into ensuring a meaningful tour, I felt it was the least I could do. I’m glad I went.

We arrived to Kibbutz Kfar Aza,  where 64 members were murdered by Hamas on October 7, and 19 were kidnapped and taken to Gaza. Today, five hostages are still being held there. We noticed   that its entrance near the dining room and medical clinic looked almost normal, except for a huge poster with the photos of the hostages, atop the water tower. But appearances can be deceiving, and sometimes, things need explanation. Our guide, a young man, a member of the kibbutz, told us that after October 7, as the kibbutz lay deserted, the grass grew wild. Volunteers from Kibbutz Beit Hashita in the Jezreel Valley stepped in, taking care of the public areas and restoring them. From the beginning, the guide connected the horrific past to the present and the future of the kibbutz, emphasizing the crucial role of volunteers in making Kfar Aza home again for its members.

As we walked through the kibbutz’s narrow paths, the guide pointed out various houses, recounting the tragic events of October 7. He explained that the terrorists attacked Kfar Aza in three waves: first came the elite “Nukhba” unit, then regular Hamas terrorists, and finally, ordinary Gazans (from just 1.5 kilometers away), breaking through the gates at multiple points.

It was devastating to see signs on some of the houses, like a circle with a dot inside, indicating that a body had been found there. On the modest home of Aviva and Keith Siegel, there was a sign with Keith’s name and the words, “Kidnapped from his house.”

We also passed through the neighborhood of the young people, which was completely destroyed and burned. The guide shared how these young residents had enjoyed a wonderful life, living close to their friends as if they were family. Many of them were just about to settle down and start families of their own. Now, so many of them are gone, slaughtered by Hamas.

A friend asked me why I felt the need to see such horrific sights with my own eyes. I told her that I didn’t need to, but it helped make the our collective catastrophe personal. Being there made the atrocities at Kfar Aza tangible. It’s hard to describe, but now that I’ve been there, the kibbutz, its members—both the living and the dead—feel like a part of me.