‘It’s like a zombie movie’ – life on kibbutz after Hamas attack

Survivor couple try to rebuild some sense of normality at the Israel-Gaza border community devastated in the October 7 attacks.

An avenue in Kfar Aza five weeks after the Hamas terrorist attacks on the village. Picture: Yoni Bashan

The beeping arrival of the bin man represents a small victory for Shahar Shnorman, 62, and Ayelet Cohen, 56, the only residents to return to Kfar Aza in southern Israel after the October 7 terrorist attacks.

The couple live in the bullet-ridden ruins of the kibbutz, about 5km east of Gaza. The neighbour’s garden smells of rotting oranges despite Shnorman’s best efforts to collect the abandoned fruit. Hungry cats have learnt to beg for food at the only permanently inhabited house in the village.

“It’s very weird to see. It’s like we’re living in a zombie movie. Nature has just taken over,” said Cohen, an acupuncturist, walking about the overgrown lawns.

Kfar Aza was home to 900 people before October 7 but was one of the communities hit hardest by the Hamas attacks.

Oranges rot in the garden of Shnorman and Cohen’s neighbours. Picture: George Grylls/The Times

Shnorman can point to each of his neighbours’ houses and tell a story: his two friends who were burnt alive; the mother and her two children who survived by hiding under their bed while a terrorist sat on top; the young man who jumped on to a grenade, sacrificing himself to shield his fiancee.

More than 60 men, women and children were murdered in Kfar Aza and five are still being held hostage in Gaza. Yotam Haim, 28, a heavy metal drummer, was mistakenly shot dead by Israeli soldiers as he waved a white flag while trying to escape with two other hostages in December.

Many of the survivors of Kfar Aza have been living in hotels paid for by the state ever since the attacks. But despite the trauma of October 7, the Israeli government has set up a £3.9 billion ($7.6bn) fund to encourage evacuees to return to Gaza’s border regions. Survivors are entitled to daily payments of 200 shekels (about $85) for adults and 100 shekels for children, about £1300 a month. The government hopes these payments will induce the population to reinhabit the devastated towns of southern Israel by September.

Cohen, who was born in Kfar Aza, needed little encouragement to go back, although she had to leave behind her 79-year old mother, who cannot drive, and her dog, a cane corso-American bulldog mix that struggled with the stressful sounds of war.

“In the city we couldn’t sleep because of the sound of traffic,” she said. “The drones are just white noise to us here. You become used to them. The night we came back was the best sleep I’ve had since October 6. There’s nothing like sleeping in your own bed.”

Much of the kibbutz was destroyed on October 7. Picture: Getty Images

Gaza is only about 5km from Kfar Aza, but Shnorman says he is more frightened of Israeli politics than Hamas. Picture: George Grylls/The Times

Now the couple host barbecues twice a week for volunteers helping to rebuild the community in an attempt to bring life back to the kibbutz, and Cohen insists on using proper crockery. “Why should I change my principles? Just because terrorists came to the house. I don’t want to use disposable plates. It’s bad for the environment.”

The pair offer freshly squeezed mandarin juice to the solemn procession of visitors walking around the town and Cohen plays music to raise their spirits. “We’re part of a living museum,” Shnorman said. “And that’s all right. It’s important that people come and see, just like schoolchildren are taken to Auschwitz when they are young. Although it’s not quite the same thing.”

Sitting on their veranda, it is easy to see why the couple were desperate to return. Yet when Shnorman recounts his experiences on October 7, the dilemma faced by other survivors becomes more apparent.

Hearing explosions and gunfire that morning, Shnorman went next door to check on his neighbour and found her corpse in the safe room, blown apart by a grenade. He retreated with his wife and their dog to their bedroom, where he remained for 30 hours, holding on to the door handle with one hand and a knife with the other, at one point fainting due to the heat and lack of air. Even when terrorists were audible on the other side of the wall, their elderly dog did not bark.

Hungry cats beg at the kibbutz’s only permanently occupied house. Picture: George Grylls/The Times

Since the couple became the kibbutz’s first residents to return permanently on December 10, the number of rocket attacks has been reducing and Shnorman says he is more afraid of Israeli politics than the threat from Gaza. “The state of Israel can’t feel safe as long as Netanyahu is in power,” he said. “At the moment I’m more frightened of him than I am of Hamas. He can destroy the country, but Hamas cannot.”

The frustration at Binyamin Netanyahu, the prime minister, in the border regions of Gaza is not limited to the left-wing residents of the kibbutzim. A perceived lack of support for the regions led to a protest this week when the mayors of several border towns slept on the sofas outside Netanyahu’s office after their request for a meeting with him was turned down.

One of those taking part was Alon Davidi, 50, the mayor of Sderot, a town of 30,000 residents but now home to about 8000 after Hamas gunmen rode through in pick-up trucks, capturing the police station and slaughtering dozens of civilians and police officers.

“We are the front line of Israel,” Davidi, a former member of Netanyahu’s party, Likud, said. Davidi has argued with the government over additional funding for the resettlement of Sderot. Many schools are still shut, making it difficult for families to return.

“I told him, ‘You didn’t take responsibility for October 7, so at least take responsibility for the future,’ ” Davidi said. “What does victory look like? Many say it’s that the people come back.”

The Times