On November 30, the seventh group of hostages was released from Hamas captivity under a temporary truce agreement with Israel. Among those released were two teenagers from the Bedouin family Alziadana – Aisha Alziadana, 17, and Bilal Alziadana, 18, members of a Bedouin family from Rahat. Their father, Youssef, 52, and brother, Hamza, 22, remain in captivity with the terrorists.
Our correspondent Alla Gavrilova visited the unrecognized village of Kafr Ziadana, where the Alziadana family lives, and spoke with the liberated teenagers, their mother, and uncle.
Two thousand people live in the village, all members of the massive Alziadana clan. My interviewees say they have 15 thousand relatives, most of whom live in similar unrecognized villages, engage in agriculture, and breed livestock. These Bedouin settlements still lack an electricity supply and proper roads, so residents get electricity from independently installed solar panels, which can be found near almost every structure. The Israeli Land Administration regularly demolishes buildings in unrecognized villages.
The nearest school is ten kilometers away. There are no kindergartens, and the clinic is also far away.
In these villages, there are no alerts of rocket attacks, as they are located in an area considered "an open terrain." The Iron Dome does not operate there. In 2014, after Operation Protective Edge, three mobile bomb shelters were brought to Kafr Ziadana. Recently, after two and a half months of the war, the Home Front Command is supposed to deliver several more shelters to the village.
In the early days of the war, 17 people from the Bedouin community died in the Negev as a result of shelling. There were many children among the casualties. Ten Negev Bedouins sustained severe injuries.
There were seven Bedouins, including four from the Alziadana clan, among the hostages captured by Hamas. They were abducted from the village of Holit on the Gaza border, where Youssuf had worked for 17 years. On October 7, he worked in the barn with his sons while Aisha was harvesting olives.
I am talking to Youssef's nephew and son-in-law, Raed. Raed is 28 years old and married to Youssef's daughter. He talks about his uncle and father-in-law, mentioning that Youssuf has two wives, 19 children, and 43 grandchildren. Youssef's house has been demolished several times. Hamza, who remains in captivity with his father, recently rebuilt his house for the third time.
"It's the third month of war. Initially, some ministers and activists used to come here, but then they almost stopped. Several family members constantly fly to the USA, Egypt, and Qatar, seeking assistance in releasing Youssuf and Hamza. People promise to help. However, as long as Israel does not stop the war, the hostages will not be freed. We see how the hostages perish from our bombings and shelling. The longer we fight, the less chance they have of surviving. Aisha and Bilal tell me that they constantly heard explosions and shelling in captivity and were sure they would die from it," says Raed.
According to Raed, both Youssuf and Hamza suffer from chronic illnesses and require constant medication. Youssuf has had two strokes, and Hamza suffers from chronic migraines, for which he needs particular medications. Nobody provided them with medicines in captivity.
Raed confirms the account of another uncle of Aisha and Bilal, Ali Alziadana, who, in an interview with NEWSru.co.il, mentioned that their relatives did not know where they were during all this time and were unaware of the tragedy that occurred in Israel on October 7. They thought only they were abducted. Aisha and Bilal were released in satisfactory physical condition, but psychologically, it was very difficult for them, and psychologists are currently working with them.
"Praise be to Allah, they were together all this time, the four of them. When they were brought to Gaza, sacks were put over their heads so they didn't know where they were. Hamas didn't beat or interrogate them because they quickly understood that they had not served in the IDF. They were given the Quran and a prayer rug, but nobody spoke to them. They were provided with food and water, and that's all," Raed explains.
I talk to Aisha. We sit in the so-called "living room" at a table, not on the floor. Raed asks me not to photograph women because it is uncustomary in their family. "When they were abducted, of course, we gave the authorities a photo of Aisha, but only because it was necessary," Raed explains. Men in their family also do not like to be photographed – Bilal, softening the request with a smile, asks not to take pictures and says, "It was tough there, but now I'm okay, and I have nothing more to say." The room is dim because there is no sunlight, and they try not to use the generator during the day. Aisha doesn't speak Hebrew and is very shy, but she immediately hugs me when welcoming me — a gorgeous girl, still a child. Raed serves as the translator.
Aisha says that initially, they had light and water in captivity. They were in some facility with a room and a toilet with a shower. But after a few days, the light went out, and for 55 days, they were in almost complete darkness most of the time. Water was also very scarce, and they were even given seawater, which made their thirst even more unbearable. They were left alone, and hardly ever anybody came to them – only to bring food and water. Nobody answered their questions. Aisha says she was certain that, at some point, they would all die from shelling.
I ask how Aisha spent time in captivity with her father and brothers.
"Dad used to tell us stories from the Quran and various tales. And when he finished reciting the entire Quran, he would tell us stories from his life," says Aisha.
According to her, in these 55 days, she learned more about her father than her entire life.
The girl says it was excruciating when they came for her and Bilal and told them to say goodbye to their father and Hamza. On the one hand, she and Bilal were happy to return home, but on the other, they were very worried about their brother and father being left in captivity.
"When we said goodbye, Dad told us to tell Mom and the whole family that he loves us and hopes to be back soon," says Aisha. Naima, Aisha's mother, is crying.
Naima is Youssef's wife and the mother of Aisha, Bilal, and Hamza. She has a total of 15 children. She also does not speak Hebrew, and Raed translates. I ask after whom Hamza was born, and Naima counts on her fingers, stumbling a few times. We laugh. I tell them that I am the only child in my family. Everyone looks at me with surprise and pity. Raed explains that this is one of the reasons for the constant conflict between the Bedouins and the state.\
"We want to live as families, as clans. We have been living like this for generations. We don't understand why our existing villages aren't given the same legal status as the Jewish ones. That would allow us to engage in agriculture legally. Do you understand that they want to relocate us to the city where we cannot live together, and for us, it's unacceptable? You are the only child, and you may not understand this, but the family is our main value. And that's why we demand doing everything they can to free all the hostages at any cost," says Raed.
I ask Naima about her husband and son. She tells, holding back tears, that October 7 was the scariest day of her life. Early in the morning, she saw her husband and children off to work in Holit, and almost immediately, the communication with them was cut off. Later, Hamza and Youssuf were seen in one of Hamas's videos. Only several weeks later, the relatives were officially registered as abducted.
The meeting with Aisha and Bilal for their mother was happy and painful simultaneously because, as Raed translates, she is terrified for her husband and Hamza. "For the first few weeks, I kept dreaming that I was cooking for them. For some reason, I was tormented because I didn't know what they ate in captivity, so I dreamt of making them their favorite food. And when they return, I will prepare everything I dreamt of," says Naima.
