The horrifying accounts of the October 7 massacre in the Gaza Strip persist, with residents sharing their chilling experiences. Naamit Dekel-Chen, 63, survived the onslaught in Kibbutz Nir-Oz, but her son Sagi remains missing. In a bone-chilling monologue, she recounts the unfolding events, detailing how she barely escaped being murdered or abducted to Gaza.
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"Amid half an hour of relentless red alarms, messages flooded in from all sides, indicating that terrorists were prowling the kibbutz", she recalls. "My son, Sagi, who still remains missing, messaged that there were two terrorists walking near the clinic. Later, he sent another message about two terrorists riding a motorcycle. Sagi advised me to lock the house, which I did, before retreating to the secure room alone. I could hear people speaking Arabic all around; they invaded my house and vandalized everything.
"Fearing for my life, I hid inside the linen box under the bed, and my daughter-in-law informed me that the terrorists were at their house. I responded that they were also at mine. We learned from other kibbutz residents that the terrorists had begun to set homes on fire, prompting us to dampen towels and spread them throughout the house".
"After they departed, I hurriedly ventured out to fetch a bottle of water and hurried back to the secure room. I hid beneath the bed, but smoke began engulfing the room swiftly. Desperately, I opened the window of the secure room, only to find the entire pergola above consumed in flames. I shut the window, but soon the secure room was inundated with smoke. I had no choice but to leave the secure room and start running. I saw one of the neighbors, who had shot two of the terrorists. I believed this was my chance to escape, but I was mistaken. I was captured".
"I decided to play dead, and astonishingly, they ignored me completely. They went on to kidnap the three girls, the parents of the twins, and anyone still alive, taking them all to Gaza. After I feigned death, another group of terrorists passed by, laden with the loot they had plundered. An IDF helicopter hovered above me. I tried to signal that I was alive, attempting to move forward cautiously. Each time the terrorists approached, I resumed my act, lying still with my body stained with blood".
"My neighbor was among them. They forcibly led me barefoot toward the fields, tightly gripping me to prevent any escape. Although I didn't understand Arabic, I sensed they were commanding me to stay put and not attempt to flee. They dragged me barefoot through the fields, leading me through the back gate to the direction of Gaza. I saw houses completely burnt to the ground. It struck me that the families inside likely did not survive the extensive destruction. I had fled my home in a desperate attempt to save my life.
"We walked approximately 150 meters through the fields on the road to Gaza. I saw terrorists laden with plunder – suitcases, televisions, and more – looting everything in sight. I was accompanied by a neighbor who had lost her son and had her husband abducted. I assured her that we were in this together. We needed to brace ourselves for whatever came next.
"After 150 meters, a makeshift tuk-tuk with a compartment stopped, carrying five more people from the kibbutz in the back. Among them was a dear friend of mine and three little girls, terrified and distressed, two of them only three years old, not comprehending the situation. We continued toward Gaza, with an IDF helicopter hovering above us. At one point, they specifically targeted all the terrorists in the tuk-tuk, firing upon them, which caused chaos and screams to erupt inside the tuk-tuk.
"All the terrorists perished, and the majority of us managed to escape, with the exception of one friend. Her daughter, who had come to visit her, lay beside her mother, who died in her arms and couldn't leave. I took one of the girls, and another friend took the other, and we ran towards the fields. There was another couple with 3-year-old twins, but only one of them was in the car. They joined us, and we all started running. We called out to the daughter whose mother had been killed, urging her to run with us. She wept, saying, 'my mother died in my arms, and I couldn't protect the girls'. We had covered a distance of about 50 meters into the field when I was struck by shrapnel in my back, hip, and head. I began to bleed".
"I lay on the ground, and a tractor approached. It was my tractor. There were terrorists inside. Spotting us, they intended to abduct us using the tractor. Realizing it was now or never, I decided to play dead, and astonishingly, they ignored me completely. They went on to kidnap the three girls, the parents of the twins, and anyone still alive, taking them all to Gaza.
"After I played dead, another group of terrorists passed by, laden with the loot they had plundered. An IDF helicopter hovered above me. I tried to signal that I was alive, attempting to move forward. Each time the terrorists approached, I resumed my act, lying still due to my bloodstained appearance. By noon, the scorching heat and dryness prevailed, so I drank water from leaking sprinklers. I continued my journey towards Ashalim Avenue, navigating the fields whose paths I knew like the back of my hand. Raising my head, I witnessed a devastating sight: three kibbutzim, Magen, Nir Oz, and Nirim, all engulfed in flames.
"Even though I wasn't certain whether I had a home left to return to, the thought of reaching my children and ensuring their safety propelled me forward. I have two children and four grandchildren, and that thought kept me going. I walked for two hours through the fields, desperately seeking refuge within the kibbutz. My legs were numb, and I was exhausted. Along the way, I witnessed unimaginable devastation. Words can't capture the extent of the destruction. Everything lay in ruins, burnt, and shattered. Houses, once made of wood, were now reduced to ashes, with only the secure rooms left standing as a grim reminder. The scenes were horrifying.
"I reached my daughter's house, miraculously untouched by the flames. I knocked on the door, but they hesitated to open it, mistaking me for one of the terrorists. I shouted, 'Ofir, it's your mother', until they finally recognized my voice and let me in. I collapsed on a mattress, bleeding all over. Since then, I've been anxiously waiting for any news about my son, who still remains missing, his condition unknown".
"I insisted that we inform everyone I was still alive. Eventually, they came, took care of me, and evacuated me to Soroka Hospital. It took hours. When I returned home around half past one, there were no soldiers in sight at the kibbutz. The ordeal had begun at half past six in the morning, and by half past one, there was no military presence. I walked in constant fear, worried that terrorists might shoot me from behind. My sole determination was to find my children and ensure the safety of my grandchildren.
"The kibbutz lay in ruins; there was no place to return to, nowhere to start anew. We had been utterly obliterated. I keep questioning how we ended up in this dire situation. How? My heart goes out to those who remained on the tractor. But I had to prioritize saving myself and reaching my children".