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Two years ago, on Oct. 7, 2023, I was kidnapped from my home in Kibbutz Be’eri in my pajamas by Hamas terrorists. My wife, Raz, and I were ripped from our lives and dragged into Gaza. I was released in February 2025 after 491 days in captivity, but 48 hostages remain in Hamas’ hands. My nightmare is not over. It won’t be over until they all come home.
And now, finally, there is hope. President Donald Trump has brought forth a historic deal to bring all 48 hostages home — the living and the deceased — to end this war, to end this suffering for our people. After so much pain, we finally have a real chance.
But with that hope comes fear. We have seen opportunities collapse before. The deal has not been signed yet. I know what is at stake. I know what those hostages are enduring right now because I lived it.
FREED AMERICAN-ISRAELI HOSTAGE DETAILS STARVATION AND ABUSE BY HAMAS AS FAMILIES PUSH TRUMP FOR DEAL
Two years have passed since Hamas terrorists invaded our homes, murdered hundreds of innocent people, and kidnapped men, women, children and the elderly. That Shabbat morning started like any other. By the end of the day, Raz and I were hostages.
When Raz was released in November 2023, I thought maybe my turn would come soon. Instead, I was taken to the tunnels — 30 meters underground, in total darkness, with no air, barely any food or water, no medical care. This became my life for over a year.
I wasn’t alone down there. I was held with five other hostages: Elkana Bohbot, Maksym Harkin, Segev Kalfon, Yosef Ohana, and Bar Kupershtein. They became like sons to me, and I became a father figure to them. We needed each other to survive. The six of us shared a cell meant for three. We dug with our bare hands in the dirt to make places to sleep. Every request from our captors required hours of discussion among ourselves because the consequences were severe. Ask for pita bread and get refused? They would beat us. Forbid us from asking for anything for two weeks. So we deliberated carefully, everyone had a voice, and we voted.
I was afraid for my life every single day. Hamas told us clearly: if the IDF gets close, they will shoot us at point-blank range. Once, a terrorist forced me to decide which hostages would get a bullet in the head and which in the knee. For hours, they made us beg for our lives, shaking and crying. On day 270, terrorists stormed in and beat us for three days straight. One guard told me, “I hate you. If they order me to kill you, I won’t use a gun. I’ll use a knife.” As time passed, we started to lose hope. That’s when survival becomes almost impossible. What gave me strength was seeing our people back home fighting for us.
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I was released in February 2025. I had lost 77 pounds. In those first days of freedom, everything felt unreal. But one moment stands out: I had the profound honor of meeting President Trump, the man who saved me, who made it possible for me to be reunited with my wife and daughters. He expressed his unwavering commitment to bring all the hostages home. I thank him for my freedom and for never giving up on those still in captivity. If anyone deserves the Nobel Peace Prize, it is him, for everything he has done for us and for continuing to fight to make sure all the hostages come back home.
But freedom doesn’t mean the nightmare is over. I still wake up at night and touch the walls, checking that they’re not concrete, that I’m not in the tunnels. But then I remember — they are still there. When I open the refrigerator and take out food, I think about how they have nothing.
In a cruel propaganda video released by Hamas months ago, Elkana and Yosef spoke directly to me, begging me to do everything I can to get them out of hell. Until all 48 hostages come out — the living and the deceased — I cannot continue with my life.
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Since my release, I have witnessed many negotiations come and go. This time it must happen. The world must make sure this deal comes to fruition. I know better than anyone the cost of every additional day in captivity. They won’t make it in there for much longer. My friends won’t make it there for much longer. I lived through 491 days of Hamas’ cruelty. I know exactly what every additional hour means for those still underground.
The release of all 48 hostages must come first. The world is watching. Every day matters. Every hour counts.
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