I am my sister’s keeper

Liri. Daniella. Emily. Shiri. Doron. Romi. Naama. Amit. Noa. Karina. Agam. Arbel. Eden. Carmel. These are the names of the female hostages, the names that each Jewish woman can repeat in their sleep these past months. In the light, we stare back at their eyes. In the darkness, we wince as we imagine what they are enduring in captivity. In these moments we are their sisters, their friends, their aunts. We ache their pain, the pain of their families. Our paths have never crossed, yet we declare - I am my sister’s keeper.

Ten of these female captives may still be alive. One - Noa - was retrieved in a dramatic rescue. Two - Eden and Carmel - were executed on day 331 of captivity. They were found with point blank wounds, emaciated and in horrific underground conditions. The DNA of Yahiye Sinwar, head of Hamas, was found in their hellish den under Rafah. These women, together with four male captives, were kept as his human shields.

Early on I became attached to Carmel, 40, an occupational therapist - like me - who loved yoga, travel and family. I resolved to encourage our mutual professional peers within the global occupational therapy circles to advocate for her. Perhaps the World Federation could lobby the global health organisations and the International Red Cross, who - at that stage - had yet to stun us with their indifference and abrogation of responsibility to victims of war. It was also before we knew what awaited us in the global compassion stakes. I was stunned into a deep anger by the silence I encountered. In time I would connect with peers in the US, the UK and Israel, and discover that they too experienced the same blunt encounters.