Amid the pomegranate groves of Kfar HaRif, a collective farm in southern Israel, hundreds of people gathered as the sun began to set for the funerals of Lianne Sharabi, a British-Israeli woman, and her teenage daughters, Noiya and Yahel.
The family were murdered on 7 October after militants from the Palestinian group Hamas stormed their home in Kibbutz Be’eri. Their father, Eli, is missing, and his brother, Yosi, has officially been declared one of the 220 hostages taken back to the Gaza Strip. Be’eri suffered such destruction, and so many of its 1,000 residents are dead or missing, that the Sharabis can’t be buried there; instead, on Wednesday, they were laid to rest in a cemetery 25km (16 miles) away.
It was two weeks before all three were officially confirmed as dead, and the funerals brought little solace to those who gathered to honour loved ones taken away in an episode of such shocking violence.
Before the rites began, a message was broadcast instructing the mourners not to run or panic if an air raid siren sounded, but instead lie on the ground and cover their heads. Several military helicopters passed overhead during the ceremony.
Many people were wearing T-shirts that read: “Lianne, Noiya and Yahel have been murdered. Bring back Eli and Yosi now.”
Through the grief and pain – as well as the outbreak of a new war that has already claimed thousands of Israeli and Palestinian lives – the Sharabis’ friends and family painted a picture of who they had lost.
Lianne, 48, from Bristol, went to Be’eri as a volunteer when she was 19. Within three months she had fallen in love with Eli and decided to stay, embracing the socialist and environmental principles of kibbutz life. A gifted musician, she regularly played the clarinet, saxophone and sang at kibbutz events.
“Lianne was not a believer. She did not believe in God, or heaven, or an afterlife. But I do, and I refuse to believe that this is the end of our story together,” Natasha Cohen, her best friend from the kibbutz, told mourners.
Most of the family’s British relatives were not able to travel to Israel for the funeral, and recordings of their eulogies were played instead. This summer, her brother Neil said, Lianne had been bursting with pride during 13-year-old Yahel’s bat mitzvah, which Noiya, 16, helped to organise. The girls and their cousins were dancing around to TikTok videos when he video-called them with congratulations.
Lianne’s brothers described her as a big personality, with a big heart and a dry sense of humour. Noiya’s friends cried as they described a trip the teens were supposed to take. The 16-year-old was sensitive and fun, “a beacon of light extinguished too soon”, her family in the UK said.
Gill, the girls’ grandmother, said in her recorded eulogy that Yahel had recently been given a telescope, a gift she was excited about and used most nights to study the stars; she also loved animals. “We will never know now what she could have become,” she said. “There is a Yahel-shaped hole in our lives that can never be filled.”
With Eli and Yosi still missing, there is still no closure for the family left behind. Yosi’s wife, Nira, managed to save their three teenage daughters and seven other people, hiding for eight hours in silence as Hamas rampaged through their green, peaceful home.
The two brothers and their families had endured several rounds of war between Hamas and Israel in the 16 years since the Palestinian militant group took over the Gaza Strip, including rocket and mortar fire that had landed in the community.
Heading to the safe room for a few minutes whenever an air raid siren goes off is part of kibbutz life.
In Gaza, there are no bomb shelters, and civilians have resorted to digging mass graves. Bodies lie outside, everywhere, until there is a gap in the Israeli bombing in which burials can take place.
The Sharabis trusted the Israeli army to keep them safe, a statement from the family said, and never thought of leaving. Nothing could have prepared them for the horrors of 7 October.
“I hope they come back,” said Yonit, a relative from near Tel Aviv married to Eli and Yosi’s cousin. She spoke very softly, and her eyes were red from crying. “I do not want to go to more funerals.”
