It was 8:15 am. I woke up to sirens blasting, and I instantly woke my brother. We sleep in on Saturday mornings and take a break from a busy week. When I travelled from Haifa to Jerusalem to be with my brother a few days ago, the emotions were joy and celebrations. Residents were celebrating Sukkot. The feasting was to end with the religious festival of Simchat Torah (rejoicing in the Torah) on Saturday.
This Saturday will be branded in the minds of Israelis for generations to come.
My brother mumbled sleepily that the sirens could be a drill. Then he went to his flatmate to make sense of what was going on. His flatmate thought it was just the sound of an ambulance. He realised later how wrong he was.
We rushed to the bomb shelter. The alerts on our phones warned us of the reality of the coming days. We spent hours in the shelter in our apartment building. We canceled our plans for the day as we reached out to friends and family to see if everyone was alright. After almost five or six sirens and close to five hours of uncertainty, we could finally leave the shelters.
However, the gravity of the situation was unprecedented, not seen in the nation for decades. As the day progressed, news trickled in about the situation in the south of Israel. We heard Hamas militants had launched over 1,500 rockets that morning and had infiltrated the southern border by land. They were terrorizing civilians, displacing families, kidnapping people – the death count would rise to 300 on Day One alone.
My mind was filled with questions on what was happening and what next. For someone who has lived in a war zone before in Kuwait, the rocket interception sounds brought back childhood memories.
As my brother and I live in Israel, we were constantly in touch with our parents back in Kumbanad (Kerala) and keeping them updated. They were reassuring and helped us to not panic. I met a few of my friends in the dorms; some were traumatised by the siren and rocket sounds. We decided to stay together and keep each other company. We spent our time singing songs, cooking, baking, and talking to keep our minds busy rather than panicking over the reality of what was going on outside.
On Sunday, some of us went to the nearby supermarket in a group to stock up on food and other essentials for a week. A shocked and confounded Israel went into emergency mode and called numerous reserve soldiers to back up the military as they planned the next steps. Some of my friends are reserve soldiers who were called to join the army. Hugging and saying goodbye was hard and painful as we didn’t know – and still don’t know – what tomorrow would hold. Our hopes and prayers are for their safety.
Sunday brought a bloody battle, an on-ground assault on Hamas militants to push them out of the country and secure captured villages and settlements. This was followed by an air strike on key strongholds in Gaza. During our walk to the supermarket, we witnessed reserve soldiers gathering, waiting for the ride to their bases. The scene was unsettling. Streets that once bustled with traffic and car horns had gone silent. The city center and the old city of Jerusalem would share the same feeling. People headed to supermarkets to prep for a national emergency. The end of Sunday was bloody – almost 700 lives lost in Israel with more than 1,000 injured, hundreds still hostage, close to 300 dead on the Gaza side, and many injured. Shocking numbers.
A barrage of rockets started from the northern side of Lebanon as Hezbollah began to join the attacks on Israel. Gaza was also being battered as the Israel Defence Forces strengthened operations to find the heads of Hamas and the perpetrators behind the attacks. Electricity and supplies have been cut off in Gaza. As we sat in the living room of our friend’s apartment for dinner, gunshots were heard from a village near Jerusalem.
As Monday dawned, the sights on social media were traumatising. People were talking about ways to get out of the country. I was glued to the phone, like many others, checking up on concerned relatives and social media posts from both sides of the battles. The number of reservists called back to duty increased. Some of our close friends and compatriots requested our prayers as they headed to the bases.
Sirens blasted through Jerusalem again on Monday morning, and we had to hurry into shelters. Ditto in the evening. People started moving around, but there was tension in the air. No one knew what tomorrow would bring. The sight of parents and relatives of civilians killed or taken hostage were televised and shared on social media.
The next few days will be decisive. Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu has declared that the Hamas will pay a huge price and that the face of the Middle East will change.
Public announcements have been rolling through the town, with news agencies urging citizens to stock up on essentials (including water, food, communication supplies, cash, etc.) for the next three days (72 hours). Messages of relatives and friends concerned about us have been non-stop. Police presence has been increased around the neighborhood. Even the siren from an ambulance or a police car startles many. At the time of writing this article, we have ended another day in a state of war. We hope for brighter days soon and a return to peace and normalcy.
(Deborah Ann Samuel is a student in Haifa, Israel. She’s currently in Jerusalem.)
Disclaimer: These are the personal opinions of the author.
