A Father’s Heartbreaking Plea Amidst the Chaos of Captivity

For 614 long days, my son Segev has been a prisoner in the underground tunnels of Gaza, held captive by Hamas militants who abducted him from the Nova music festival on that tragic morning of October 7. He was among the 251 hostages taken, and sadly, 55 individuals still remain in captivity in Gaza.

I urge you to consider a thought no parent should ever endure: How would you feel if your beloved child—raised, nurtured, and loved daily—was trapped in the clutches of ruthless captors? How would you cope knowing your son faces unimaginable suffering, both physical and psychological, in darkness as you grapple with the torment of the passing hours?

Segev is my middle child. He is humorous, intelligent, and kind-hearted. He worked alongside me in our family bakery, a testament to the close bond we share.

On that fateful October 7, he attended the Nova festival with his friend Asaf. We kept in touch regularly until missile alerts began, prompting us to urge him to return home immediately. He reassured my wife and me that everything was fine, leading us to believe that these alerts were nothing more than brief disturbances.

Despite observing the Sabbath, we switched on the television to comprehend the unfolding horror, only to see scenes of chaos. I quickly called Segev to warn him about the terrorist infiltration. As he ran through the chaos, I heard him amidst the gunfire promising he would be home soon. That was the last time I would ever hear his voice.

I rushed to a hospital down south, where chaos reigned as wounded individuals streamed in from the festival. Desperately, I asked anyone if they had seen Segev, praying for a glimpse of hope that he was among the injured rather than facing my worst fears. Then, I received the agonizing call to return home, as Asaf had come back with dreadful news— he had witnessed Segev being taken.

The two friends attempted to escape together. They fled through the fields, but in a split-second decision that altered their fates forever, Segev chose to cross the road while Asaf found refuge in nearby bushes. Asaf could only watch helplessly as terrorists captured my son and forced him into their vehicle.

My son remains a captive. 

A couple of months ago, a fellow hostage who had shared time with Segev reached out to us. Initially, he shared the camaraderie that developed among the hostages, how they managed to bond over shared moments of observing the Sabbath on Fridays. But as the conversation deepened, the grim reality they faced became painfully clear—systematic torture, intentional starvation, and persistent psychological torment.

Each morning, dread envelops me as I wake. Each night, I lie awake, haunted by images of my son calling out from that underground prison, wondering if anyone can hear him. My hope is that he must hold on to strength, despite the overwhelming difficulties he faces. As a family rooted in faith, I pray that he looks up and finds the fortitude to persevere in the direst of circumstances.

My family balances on the brink of madness. Since the day Segev was abducted, our fight has been relentless. We engage in demonstrations, connect with policymakers, and strive to raise public awareness about his plight and those of the other hostages. Relaxation feels unattainable; how could we ever ease our guard?

We commemorated Segev’s 27th birthday this past January—his second birthday spent in captivity. How does one celebrate when their child is trapped in a living nightmare?

Our reliance on your support is profound. We desperately seek international assistance, particularly from America. Thanks to President Trump, a father himself who comprehends the sacred bond between parent and child, we have witnessed several hostages return home. Observing many families reunited due to the efforts of Trump and his administration filled our hearts with both joy and gratitude.

President Trump managed to achieve the impossible. However, merciless months have passed since those initial reunions, and as hostilities have escalated, the remaining hostages face escalating dangers. Reports narrate the inhumane conditions endured by these captives, including medical neglect and abuse. Knowing that Segev is alive offers hope, but it simultaneously deepens my despair. Just contemplating him and the others still trapped is a form of suffering in its own right.

To all fathers reading this: Pause and reflect on how you would feel if your son faced such a grievous fate. How would you survive each day, knowing your child suffers torment at the hands of terrorists? I am Segev’s father and I will fight for him eternally.

I refuse to relent in my pursuit. My wish is that no parent ever endures this agony. I implore you not to turn a blind eye to our suffering. Do not allow these 55 hostages to become mere statistics. Segev is not just a number—he is my son.

This Father’s Day, as you embrace your children, keep mine in your thoughts. Remember the 55 individuals who have languished in terrorist tunnels for over 600 days. Their time is running out. My son and 54 others eagerly await our efforts to bring them home. They need the world to recognize their humanity, not as numbers but as cherished children whose fathers will forever fight for their return.