The Dalal family’s sukkah, standing on their balcony in the West Bank settlement of Alfei Menashe, has not been dismantled since the Sukkot holiday two years ago. Its decorations have faded, the palm fronds have dried, and dust has gathered along the bamboo walls. But inside remains a promise — and a plea.
Before heading out to the Nova music festival on the night of Oct. 6, 2023, 23-year-old Guy Gilboa Dalal turned to his father, Ilan, with a simple request: “Don’t take down the sukkah alone. When I come back from the party, we’ll take it down together.”
Guy never came back. He was abducted by Hamas gunmen in the early hours of October 7 during the terror group’s attack on southern Israel, when militants stormed the Nova festival near Kibbutz Re’im and massacred hundreds of young people.
Since that day, the Dalal family’s sukkah — once a symbol of joy and faith — has become their “Sukkah of Hope.”
“As long as it’s standing, we still have hope,” says Ilan Dalal. “It’s waiting for him, just like we are.”
A night that changed everything
On that Friday night, Guy joined three of his closest friends — Evyatar David, and the couple Ron Tzarfati and Idan Haramaty, both later killed in the attack. He texted his mother, Meirav, after arriving safely.
In the morning, Guy’s older brother, Gal, joined the group at the festival. The two brothers took a selfie, smiling and carefree — a final image of their lives before the massacre.
A few hours later, Hamas fighters stormed the festival grounds, opening fire on thousands of partygoers. Guy and his friends tried to hide under a bush. The gunmen found them.
Ron and Idan were shot dead. Guy and Evyatar were taken across the border into Gaza. Gal managed to survive after hiding for hours.
“At 11:30 that morning we saw the first video,” recalls Ilan. “It showed Guy and Evyatar being kidnapped. That’s how we found out. Since then, we’ve been living in hell.”
Glimpses from captivity
Over the past two years, Hamas has released several videos of hostages held in Gaza. In one, Guy and Evyatar appear watching what the terrorists called a “release ceremony” for other hostages, pleading for their own lives. Both look gaunt and pale, their eyes vacant.
3 View gallery
A video of hostage Guy Dalal released by the Hamas terrorist organization and posted on the Instagram page for his release
“That’s not the Guy we know,” says Ilan. “Our Guy is always smiling, a kid with kind eyes. In that video, he looks broken, without light. Watching that is like looking pain straight in the eyes.”
Evyatar was like a son to the Dalals. He and Guy had grown up together since kindergarten, played guitar together, hiked, and celebrated every occasion side by side.
“He’s like another child of mine,” Ilan says softly. “They were taken together, went through everything together. Now we don’t even know if they’re still together.”
Waiting for news, holding on to hope
The family closely follows every report about a possible deal to free the remaining hostages.
“Every time there’s talk of a deal, we get our hopes up,” says Ilan. “And then, when it falls apart, it crushes us. In July we were sure it was happening. Now they’re saying there’s another chance, and we’re trying to stay cautiously optimistic. We don’t have anything else to hold on to.”
When Guy was kidnapped, his sister Gaia was 15. She is now almost 18, on the verge of finishing high school. “She did her matriculation exams, learned to drive, and he’s not here to see it,” Ilan says. “She misses him every day.”
Life in their home — once full of music, laughter, and light — stopped the moment the news arrived.
“We don’t celebrate holidays anymore, don’t do Friday night dinners,” Ilan says. “It’s hard to feel joy when you don’t know what’s happening to your child.”
The stress took a toll. Last year, Meirav suffered a heart attack and underwent open-heart surgery.
“The longing burns in our hearts,” Ilan says. “Guy and I used to talk for hours. He’s the one most like me — same sense of humor, same love of sports and music. Since he’s been gone, I can’t even watch a game. Every night I talk to him. I tell him we’re waiting, that we love him, that he must not give up. That we’re doing everything we can.”
Two years ago, during Sukkot, the Dalal family gathered under their sukkah roof — eating, laughing, and singing. They never imagined how their world would soon collapse.
Since then, the sukkah has remained standing, silent but steadfast — a witness to their waiting, their faith, and their refusal to let go of hope.
“I look at it every day,” says Ilan. “It reminds us why we’re here. Guy asked me not to take it down without him, so I won’t. Only when he comes back will we take it down together.”