Reflections from a sunny South Africa on the darkness befalling an Israeli baby boy hostage in Gaza
By Lesley Sacks
It was a beautiful, bright sunny day in Cape Town. What a fabulous way to start the new year. Tourists and locals out to play with, seemingly not a care in world.
Jogging and cycling up-and-down the busy pavilion. Children laughing, running, swimming and playing. Everyone enjoying the sun, the sea, the freedom of a perfect summer school holiday day. Out of towners picnicking on the lawns, parents pushing children in prams and on swings, everybody eating ice cream, everyone happy and joyful. Everybody free.
Kfir Bibas is not free but I’m sure he would also love to enjoy an ice cream and a sunny day.
Kfir Bibas is a little, redheaded baby boy who has just turned one year old and already, he has been a prisoner for 100 days.
Kfir is at that age where crawling is practical, but holding onto the edge of a low table and trying to take a few wobbly steps is much more fun. He’s at that age where he is curious about absolutely everything, when climbing and exploring is bliss. If he was at home, his parents and big brother would be encouraging him to walk; everyone would be calling to him and clapping when he got it right. His big brother Ariel would delight in holding out toys and treats for Kfir to reach; 4-year-olds love getting involved. His dad would be filming it all to share with the grandparents and his mom would be saying how she can’t believe what a big boy he is already.
But Kfir Bibas is not getting to enjoy a perfect sunny day, even an imperfect sunny day. Kfir Bibas has probably not seen the sun or even felt its warmth for one hundred days. He has had nowhere to climb and explore. Has he even heard a kind word in 100 days?
100days!
Now I am not a mathematician, but when you are only one year old, 100 days is a huge chunk of your life. It’s about a third of his entire life – 100 out of 365 days that Kfir Bibas has been locked away from the sun. He has been taken away from his home, everything he knows and caged in an underground tunnel like an animal living under ground. Is he with his mother? His brother? Or is he all alone? All alone in the dark?
How is it that it is even possible that we live in such extreme contrast? How many of you, of us, humans on the planet, just get on with our day without even a passing thought for Kfir Bibas or any of the other kidnapped hostages living (hopefully still living) underground, locked away, dirty, hungry, lonely, starving, scared?
How many of us enjoy a coke or a cold glass of water on a hot day without even considering the small, parched mouth of a confined baby hostage! I am writing this in South Africa where it is summer and the days and nights are warm but in the northern hemisphere, in Israel and Gaza, winter is settling in. The nights are cold and dark. Does little baby Kfir have a decent blanket to keep him warm? When last did he have a proper meal to warm his belly? Or a bath to warm his bones? He should be cozy and warm, smelling like soap and powder being kissed and tucked in his cot. I don’t know what his conditions are but I am 100% sure it’s not that.
I’m not trying to cause feelings of guilt but rather to illuminate a dreadful darkness. To remind us to remember, lest we forget. To think and pray for sweet, innocent Kfir Bibas and his family and all the rest of the stolen Jewish people still being held captive by Hamas.
Please bring them all home so that they too can enjoy ice cream on a free, sunny day.
About the writer:
Lesley Sacks is a South African, living in Johannesburg but is a “proud holder of an Israeli passport.” Working with children of different ages for over 30 years, she is currently a teacher at at a local Jewish school.
While the mission of Lay of the Land (LotL) is to provide a wide and diverse perspective of affairs in Israel, the Middle East and the Jewish world, the opinions, beliefs and viewpoints expressed by its various writers are not necessarily ones of the owners and management of LOTL but of the writers themselves. LotL endeavours to the best of its ability to credit the use of all known photographs to the photographer and/or owner of such photographs (0&EO).
