Students at Hamaginim School in Kiryat Shmona were filmed hiding under tables and screaming in fear Wednesday morning as sirens sounded across the city and nearby communities over a suspected drone infiltration.
“The situation here is insane. I have no words. It doesn’t feel real,” said Yarden Bar, a daycare worker in Kiryat Shmona and mother of two children who attend the school where the video was filmed.
Ceasefire? Kiryat Shmona students hide under tables as sirens interrupt Shavuot ceremony
The children, dressed in white for a Shavuot ceremony, were forced to take cover under tables. Some screamed, others cried, while parents and accompanying adults stood helplessly by. Only later did it emerge that the alert had been a false alarm.
“The warning time in Kiryat Shmona does not allow them to reach protected spaces, so they have to hide under tables in an unprotected hall,” Bar said. “There was also a siren at the school two days ago. They run and they’re used to functioning, but as parents, we can’t process this.”
In March, the Home Front Command extended warning times in parts of the north. In 58 communities, including Kiryat Shmona, the warning time was increased from immediate to 15 seconds; in eight communities, from immediate to 30 seconds; and in six communities, from 15 to 30 seconds. In 10 communities, there was no change.
‘We don’t matter to the government’
Although even 15 seconds is not enough for students to get from classrooms to protected spaces, the Home Front Command has allowed studies to take place “in a standard building or protected space.” Parents say the current situation is impossible.
“One missile and everyone there is finished,” Bar warned. She said that every time a siren sounds because of a drone threat or rocket fire, she is torn between protecting the children at the daycare where she works and worrying about her own children, who are forced to hide under tables at school or in open areas on their way to class.
“We can’t get used to this reality,” she said. “We don’t matter to the government. Tomorrow or today, there will be a disaster like Majdal Shams and only then will they start paying attention, but I’m not willing to pay that price.”
Nuriel, a Kiryat Shmona resident, also told ynet: “Unfortunately, this has become routine, but it is still shocking every time, infuriating and frightening. How do you normalize this? I understand and believe children need routine, but it’s sad. I have two children on the autism spectrum in special communication classes. I don’t know how they’re reacting now or whether they’re going into anxiety.”
Speaking from reserve duty in southern Lebanon, he added: “When they’re at home next to me, they scream and panic, so who knows how they feel and function now. I’m in reserves in southern Lebanon, and it feels like we’re living in a reality that could bring October 7 to the north. Like the Gaza border communities before the massacre, we’re becoming what they were before the attack, and they’re getting us used to this routine. My heart is shattered.”
Moshiko Hazan, another Kiryat Shmona resident, wrote on Facebook: “Here we celebrate and run to shelters. Here, routine means sirens and missiles. Here, routine means waking up in the morning after another sleepless night because of explosions and tank fire, and they expect us to function normally.”
“Northern residents are eating s**t, excuse the language, and you’re feeding it to us with a spoon,” he wrote. “For two and a half years, there has been no life in Kiryat Shmona. Fear controls everything and every siren shakes the heart. Not to mention the number of people who have abandoned the city and those who still will. Our city is broken.”