'My Heart Is with the Girls Who Are Still There': Former Hostage Says Her Heart Is Still in Gaza

Wednesday, 27 November 2024 | "It took me time to understand I was back in Israel," said 18-year-old Agam Goldstein-Almog, reflecting on her release from captivity a year ago in an interview with Ynetnews and Yedioth Ahronoth. "I feel like I’m living a step forward and a step back, unable to comprehend that this is my reality—what happened to me and my family."

Agam was abducted from her home in Kibbutz Kfar Aza along with her younger brothers, Gal and Tal and her mother, Chen, during the brutal attack on October 7. Her father, Nadav and her older sister, Yam, were murdered in the assault. After 51 days in captivity, Agam and her family were released, but she now speaks for the women she met in the tunnels who remain in captivity.

"If I had known a year ago that I would leave the women who were with me and they would still be there, I would have said goodbye differently. I would have been sorry. I was sure they’d be freed a day or two after us," she said. "I knew nothing—not even when I’d be released. And honestly, I still don’t feel free because they are still there."

Agam’s voice trembled as she continued: "If something happens to them, I don’t know how I’ll live with myself, knowing I was the last one to see them, that I delivered messages from them to their families. The danger to life there is constant, every single day."

"People tell us we’re a miracle—that it’s amazing we’re here. But I can’t feel that joy, that sense of a miracle. The sharp transition from Gaza to Israel—I still can’t grasp it. In so many ways, I’m still living there, trapped in the fear for the women who are still in captivity. A year has passed, but it only amplifies the pain and confusion. Where are they? How are they?"

Over the past year, Agam has struggled to adjust to a new home and a shattered family. "My daily life has completely changed. Every action I take is weighed down by a heavy sense of unease," she said. "Every decision, big or small, feels overwhelming. I often feel like there’s no point to anything. It’s hard to get out of bed because I can’t believe the reality I’m waking up to—without my father, my sister, my home, or those women still captive."

Describing the emptiness, she added: "It’s hard to be in this new, incomplete family dynamic. Home, which should feel comforting and whole, sometimes feels unbearable with what remains. I still have so much, but I’ve lost so much, too. I ask myself, when will I finally feel at home? When will this feel like my family? When will I wake up in the morning and not feel this pain, not long so desperately for what I’ve lost? When will I be able to accept what’s left and be grateful for it? Many times, I feel alone in my sorrow."

Now, a year after returning, Agam has a message for Israelis: "I hope the country remembers the joy of our return—how people could finally breathe again when we came back. Yes, we returned to grief and mourning, but we were here. Let’s recreate that joy by bringing everyone back. It cannot end any other way."

She added: "Knowing so many people were waiting for me gave me strength. I immediately told my mom that the women still in captivity had to see it—the goodness of people, the soldiers who took care of me after Gaza. Each of those encounters slowly restored my faith, showing me there’s still good in the world. I hope those left behind will have a chance to feel that goodness, too. We must bring all the hostages home. These are our people. They’ve been suffering for so long, and this is a reality we must never accept."