In a somber gathering, hundreds came together at a serene cemetery nestled in southern Israel to pay their respects to Shiri Bibas and her two beloved sons. The tragic circumstances of their passing, marked by their captivity in Gaza, left an indelible sorrow on the hearts of all who attended.
Bright orange balloons danced gently in the breeze, a poignant tribute to the children’s red hair, adorning a nearby fence close to the cemetery of kibbutz Nir Oz. This was the very place from which the Bibas family was taken by Palestinian militants on the fateful day of October 7, 2023. Alongside these colorful symbols of life and joy, signs inscribed with words of empathy—”sorry” and “a broken heart with the Bibas family”—hung on the fence, capturing the collective grief of the community.
Amidst the throngs of mourners, Yarden Bibas delivered a heart-wrenching eulogy for his wife and young sons, Ariel and Kfir, just four and nine months old at the time of their abduction. “Shiri, I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you all,” he uttered, his voice thick with raw emotion, a powerful cry of anguish that resonated not only with those present but also echoed through the airwaves during an emotionally charged live broadcast of the ceremony.
“Shiri, I love you and will always love you. You are everything to me.” The pain in Yarden’s voice as he recalled precious memories shared with his family pierced the hearts of everyone listening.
In an evocative moment, he expressed his feelings of guilt and loss towards his sons. “Ariel, I hope you’re not angry with me for failing to protect you properly… I thought about you every day, every moment. I hope you’re enjoying paradise.” With Kfir, he painted a tender picture: “You brought more light and happiness into our little home. You came with your sweet, captivating laugh and smile, and it was impossible not to nibble on you all the time.” These recollections brought forth a wave of emotion, reminding us all of the warmth of family bonds and the devastating loss of a future that will never be shared.
The gravesite bore a heart-wrenching symbolism, as Shiri and her two boys were laid to rest together in a single coffin—an evocative nod to the haunting final images of their abduction, where she was seen clutching her children tightly as they were taken away by militants. Flowers in shades of orange, yellow, and white blanketed the grave, each blossom echoing a vivid remembrance of lives lost too soon.
In a poignant display of solidarity, the left-leaning newspaper Haaretz devoted its front page entirely to the family’s tragedy, stating, “An entire nation in tears bids farewell to Shiri, Ariel, and Kfir.” It is a statement that encapsulates the sorrow shared by so many, a silent understanding of grief that transcends language and politics.
During the funeral, Ofri, Shiri Bibas’s sister-in-law, urgently called on Israeli officials to confront the failures that led to this heart-wrenching outcome. “There is no meaning to forgiveness before the failures are investigated,” she declared resolutely. “They could have saved you but preferred revenge.” Her words stirred a crucial question: In times of grief, where does responsibility lie, and how can we ensure that such tragedies do not occur again?
Before the funeral, a crowd, many adorned in orange and waving Israeli flags, gathered in a plaza in Tel Aviv, affectionately dubbed Hostages Square. They watched the proceedings unfold on a live broadcast, and the atmosphere brimmed with shared sorrow. “Obviously, all of our hearts are broken,” shared Sherri Ettedgui, who had just moved to Israel from Canada. “There are no words to express how we feel for this family. We wanted to stand in solidarity with others feeling the same.”
As the funeral procession made its way towards Zohar, close to kibbutz Nir Oz, thousands joined, their orange balloons reflecting the vibrant spirit of the Bibas family. The Israeli national anthem was sung softly as the funeral convoy passed through, a moment imbued with profound respect and remembrance. Candles lit along the roadside flickered like stars, each flame a silent prayer for healing.
Aviv Nahman, 22, attended the service visibly shaken. “The Bibas family has gotten into all of us, into our hearts,” she stated. “I have a sister and nephews the same ages, so I felt an obligation to be here today.” It is in these shared experiences, the echoes of our lives intertwining, that we find solace amid collective tragedy.
The remains of Shiri, Ariel, and Kfir were among the first to be returned to Israel following a truce that finally halted over 15 months of conflict in Gaza. Yet the journey back was fraught with pain; the initial handover was met with outrage when Hamas mistakenly delivered the wrong body. Though they later provided the correct remains, the emotional turmoil left in its wake remains, much like the aftermath of war—complex, layered, and far from resolved.
It’s crucial to remember that narratives of loss can lead us to vital questions of justice and accountability. As the community rallies and mourns, we must ask ourselves: How do we heal, and how do we ensure that each voice is heard in the pursuit of peace?
Yesterday, hundreds bid farewell to another individual, Oded Lifshitz, a former peace activist whose story intertwines with those of the Bibas family. His wife, Yocheved, who was also kidnapped but released shortly after, captured the essence of the tragic irony: “We have fought for social justice and peace, yet we have received a terrible blow from those we helped on the other side.” How do we reconcile these narratives, and where do we find common ground in the quest for understanding?
In the wake of profound loss, as we offer our condolences and share in the sorrow, we must not forget: each life lost is a narrative untold, a future unfulfilled. Together, we can honor the memories of those we’ve lost and work towards a more compassionate world.
Edited By Ali Musa
Axadle Times International – Monitoring.
