Bedouin family desperate for news on teenagers held hostage in Gaza

Composite image showing Aisha Zyadna (L) and Bilal Zyadna (R), Israeli Arab Bedouins who are being held hostage in the Gaza StripZyadna family

Aisha and Bilal Zyadna were among about 240 people taken hostage by Hamas gunmen in the 7 October attack

By Anna Foster
BBC News, in southern Israel

Each evening, Naeema Zyadna waits for the phone to ring. Since the Israel-Hamas temporary truce deal began last week, she's been expecting word that her children who were taken hostage by Hamas - 16-year-old Aisha and 18-year-old Bilal - are coming home. But they haven't yet.

There are only a handful of child hostages left inside Gaza. Under the agreement struck between Israel and Hamas, under-19s were supposed to be released from captivity. On the sixth day, five more were freed, and almost 40 have now been returned home in total. But so far, Aisha and Bilal haven't been among them.

Naeema told me she desperately hopes to feel that happiness herself, and can't understand why it hasn't happened yet. With just minutes until the ceasefire was due to end on Thursday morning the deal was extended again, for a seventh day. The publication of each additional hostage list brings fresh hope that her children's names will be on it.

On the morning of 7 October, Aisha and Bilal had gone with their father - Naeema's husband, Yousef - to work in a cowshed near the Israel-Gaza perimeter. Another son joined them, 22-year-old Hamza. Aisha was only there to have a picnic with her father. All four were kidnapped.

Zyadna family

The family's older son, Hamza, who is 22, is also being held

The Zyadna family live in a modest Bedouin village in the southern Negev desert, near the city of Rahat.

Arabs make up around a fifth of Israel's population, with many of them preferring to be called Palestinian citizens of Israel. Fewer than 10 of the hostages taken by Hamas and other factions in Gaza during the brutal attacks were from the Bedouin community, and double that number are believed to have been killed. A private, nomadic community, their stories of that day have been heard far less than others.

Arabic-speaking and Muslim, the Bedouin are fiercely proud of their heritage, and the Zyadnas talk of the difficulties they've faced in trying to protect their culture and their land. Naeema says her faith gives her strength, and describes her belief that the fate of her husband and children is in the hands of Allah.

Naeema's eyes fill with tears as we sit and talk outside her home, with the sound of her grandchildren playing nearby.

"Why during these 54 days has neither my daughter nor my son been released? Their father wasn't either. Why does Hamas not set them free? Why does Israel not call for their release like it did with others?" she asks. "They are young, in their teens and early 20s. Their father is diabetic and suffers from hypertension. He takes injections. Why were they not released?"

Bilal's car sits close to his mother's house. Locked and empty, the family have left it in exactly the same place as he last parked it. They don't want to move it - they're waiting for him to be freed to come back and drive it again himself.

Zyadna family

The children's father Yousef was also kidnapped by Hamas

Above the small village is a piece of flat land, where a few coloured flags flutter in the wind. It's where marriage ceremonies are normally held, and where the community are hoping to hold a huge party to celebrate the return of their loved ones when they come back home.

A short walk away, past a pen filled with curious, chattering white geese, Ali Zyadna sits drinking tiny cups of dark coffee. He is Yousef's brother, and holds up a poster covered with photos of his relatives' faces.

The family shared a photo with us - a dark and distressing contrast to the smiling images from the placard. Taken from Hamas media channels and widely circulated, it shows Bilal and Hamza lying on their stomachs on the ground, the clothing removed from their upper bodies.

A Hamas photo showed gunmen standing over Bilal and Hamza Zyadna, as well as two Thai men, on 7 October

Two Thai hostages lie close by, and two armed men loom over the group. One points his rifle at the ground with his finger close to the trigger. Extra ammunition is tucked into the green body armour he's wearing, and a Palestinian flag is visible on the front. The other man trains his weapons directly on the captives.

Ali's message is clear: "I'm speaking these words so Hamas will hear. I want to ask them to regard this as humanitarian and bring back our kids. They have returned two more Russians without any connection to the agreement. They brought back the Thais without anything in return. What's the problem for them to return the Muslims? We're asking, we're begging, give us back our kids safe and well."

Naeema too wants the world to focus on her family, and her Bedouin community, during their ordeal. She knows that telling people stories about her children, of Aisha's love of tea and cake, and Bilal's devotion to his pet horse and dog, is necessary to bring attention to their plight.

"I'm asking Hamas to bring back my children, enough is enough," she cries, her voice loud and loaded with emotion. "Every night I feel bad, I can't take this any more, I'm losing my mind."

Ali Zyadna, the children's uncle, says the Israeli government should insist that Hamas releases them

Ali wants Israel's leaders to increase their efforts too.

"The government always give us the answer that it's all in the hands of Hamas. But no, you are the state. Insist. You should insist. We're not jealous of anyone, we're happy that they've been returned, may they all come back. But it can't be right that there are adults in the groups who are being returned while a girl is left behind in captivity."

"It's very hard for us. It's two months already. We thought they would have come back already. But everyone returned and they didn't. The wives, the women of the family, are crying, they want them home with us."

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