On Friday 6 October, my 27-year-old daughter, Tamar, for ever my little girl, was so excited. After a long period of illness, she was finally going out to enjoy herself at an all-night music festival, something she had not done in years. She was so looking forward to a night of music and carefree dancing.
On that night, the Jewish holiday of Simchat Torah, she ate dinner with my husband, Dudi, who was home alone because I was abroad, as were two of my other daughters. Tamar then brought dinner over to her older sister, Adva, a mother of two young children. Tamar giggled and chatted excitedly about the upcoming party and then packed up her gear.
Before she left her apartment, Tamar took a picture of herself with her phone: she wore a black cropped top and a pair of jeans with a tear on her knee. Her long black hair was tied back. She looked so radiant and happy.
We found the photo on her phone, which we traced two days later to the area of the Supernova music festival near Kibbutz Re’im, which became a Hamas killing field during the atrocious events that unfolded in southern Israel on 7 October. Tamar is missing, and we believe she is among the Israelis being held hostage by Hamas in Gaza. Her best friend and another friend from their group were found dead at the site. We are heartbroken.
On that bloody Saturday, the day when Hamas terrorists infiltrated Israel and committed their atrocities, butchering and kidnapping men, women, children, and Holocaust survivors, my family in the centre of Israel was awoken by a siren alerting people to a barrage of incoming rockets. Worried about Tamar, Adva called her and told her she should come home. Tamar sounded relaxed and said not to worry. But then she wrote to her sister that they heard there were terrorists at the site, and they were instructed to stay put. Adva told her to be careful, but then began to panic as she heard media reports that terrorists had breached the border from Gaza and were on a killing spree.
“Tell me in which direction you are running, and I will see if I can find you somewhere to hide. Find somewhere to hide,” Adva repeated. “Make sure you have your phone on so I can know where you are, and make sure you answer me, so I won’t worry.” “We are not leaving,” Tamar texted back. “We are waiting. I will let you know when we are on our way home.” That was at 7.27am. We never heard from her again.
In a panic, Adva drove to Tamar’s apartment, took her iPad and with the help of friends managed to trace her sister’s phone – which hadn’t moved from its location since 8.11am that morning. Once we recovered the phone through contacts a few days later, we saw that she had written another text message, which we never received, that she was in the car and on her way home. We have checked with hospitals, but there is no trace of Tamar, nor of her other friends.
We are terrified for Tamar, especially since she suffers from Crohn’s disease, a debilitating inflammatory bowel illness that has made her dependent on medication, a careful diet and recurring hospital visits. She is in urgent need of medical care. She was also recently diagnosed with a benign brain tumour and another in her mouth. Not only is my sweet daughter physically fragile, she also suffers from anxiety.
Unfortunately, many others are suffering a similar fate: many of the hostages taken have suffered grave injuries, including gunshot wounds and limb loss during the attack; others have cancer, Parkinson’s disease and other serious medical conditions; several children have special needs; and at least one nine-month-old baby needs formula to stay alive, according to a medical report that a group representing the hostages’ families presented to the International Red Cross, which is demanding access to the hostages.
Due to her health, Tamar, who once loved going out, was for many years not able to be the party girl she wanted to be. This cursed music festival was one of her first times sleeping away from home after many years of emotional struggles. She was proud of herself, and we are proud of her for getting her life back together, including starting law school studies. She was supposed to begin her second year this month.
Tamar is one of my four daughters. Adva was 11 when Tamar was born, and with my second-eldest daughter, Ella, she showered her with love, read her books and took her to kindergarten. She was our princess. With my youngest, Netta, 24, they are a tribe of four young women. We are fraught with worry and cannot rest. We must make sure Tamar gets the medications she needs, and we must bring her home. We know the UK government and others are supporting Israel, but we urge them to step up efforts to bring the hostages home to Israel – and at the very least make sure they are getting medical care they desperately need.
Please, anyone, listen to our plea for help. There is no time.
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