Last Saturday, Ohad, Eli, and Or returned home.
No need to add their last names; we all know exactly who they are, where they were, and how they were kidnapped on that cursed Saturday. They, and all the other hostages, have been at the heart of our struggle.
As with previous releases, the entire country stopped to watch in nervous anticipation as they were handed over by armed Hamas members to the Red Cross.
But this time, we were stunned. As they emerged from their captors’ vehicles, all three looked gaunt and emaciated, their eyes hollow after 491 days in captivity.
Since the ceasefire took effect on January 19, 21 hostages have been released. 76 are still being held in Gaza.
Images of their return are now etched into our collective memory: Yarden Bibas reuniting with his parents, Gadi Moses and Arbel Yahud embracing before their release, Emily Damari raising her wounded hand, the endless hugs, the tears. They survived. They are home. That long-awaited day finally came.
Gadi recalled seeing his family on Al Jazeera, pleading for his return. Daniella Gilboa heard her mother’s voice on the radio. Most of them knew we were fighting for them, and it gave them strength.
“Hearing that everyone wanted them back held them together,” Daniella’s aunt told the press. “We saw our pictures on the signs in Israel; we even laughed at the choice of pictures,” Liri Albag added.
A nation mobilized
Tens of thousands have taken to the streets, demanding the return of the hostages. People – many of whom had never been politically active – have joined demonstrations across the country and abroad, gathering in silent vigils, prayer, and mass protests.
At Begin Gate, members of Women Wage Peace, alongside a determined group of citizens, stand daily with Einav Zangauker, the mother of Matan, still held captive in Gaza, and Yifat Kalderon, cousin of Ofer, who was released just a week ago. They, along with many other brave hostage families, refuse to let the world forget.
For five minutes at a time, we block traffic to remind every passerby: there are still hostages in Gaza, their lives hanging in the balance. They must be brought home now.
Skeptics have told us: “It won’t help.” “You’re only causing harm,” “They’re all already gone.” But we kept coming. Even in moments of heartbreak and despair – when we learned of executions, when another deal collapsed – when hope seemed to slip away, we stood firm.
We kept fighting because we knew that our determination, along with the thousands who joined us on weekends, helped families sustain their fight.
The families’ struggle is extraordinary. They have become a leadership unlike any we have known. Day and night, they fight – across the country, in the media, and on the world stage.
Mothers and fathers, children and cousins – ordinary people who never sought this role – have become activists, spokespeople, and advocates: meeting world leaders, demanding answers from the Israeli government, and daring to speak the full truth, no matter how painful.
They refuse to give up, turning their anguish into a national struggle that moves mountains.
We, the citizens, standing alongside them in the streets and squares, strengthen them. An entire nation rallies behind them.
Now we know that our struggle reaches Gaza itself. The hostages hear about the protests on the radio, see their faces in the media, and feel our warm embrace. Knowing they are not forgotten, that their nation continues to fight for them, is a lifeline.
Impact of the public struggle
It is difficult to measure the impact of public mobilization, but testimonies from those who have returned confirm its power. The mass protests have not only pressured decision-makers but have also sustained families and given the hostages themselves a source of resilience and hope.
Our fight is making a difference, and we will not stop.
The return of Ohad, Eli, and Or reminds us why we continue. They wouldn’t have survived much longer. Their freedom was won through relentless pressure on a government that dismissed their suffering and prioritized continuing the war.
Our voices would not be silenced. Their testimonies have shown us that our actions sustain the families and those who are still waiting to come home.
The ceasefire must lead to the release of all remaining hostages and the end of the war. Only then can we begin the painful but necessary work of rebuilding our society and forging a new path – one that leads not just to recovery but to lasting peace and stability.
No one will be left behind. No one will be forgotten.
The writer is a leading peace activist at Women Wage Peace and a communications and advocacy expert.