NIR OZ, Israel — The hum of construction has replaced the gunfire that once tore through this quiet kibbutz less than two miles from Gaza — but for survivor Irit Lahav, the fear hasn’t faded.
“I was born here. I love this kibbutz,” she told The Post in Israel this week. “I want to make it alive, full of energy and happy again. But every night, I’m still afraid.”
More than two years after Hamas terrorists slaughtered and kidnapped more than 100 Nir Oz residents in the Oct. 7 attack, rebuilding is underway though tragic memories remain.
So far, 14 families have moved back, with ten new houses almost ready for a group of about 30 young couples waiting for their turn. Some are temporarily living in kindergartens and community buildings — anything that still stands.
“Sixty percent of the houses are a total loss,” Lahav said. “Completely burned down. So even those who want to come back need to renovate. Even if it was just shooting or a grenade in the house or broken windows, you still have to fix it.”
The kibbutz is taking it one house at a time, as Hamas terrorists entered all but six of the more than 200 homes in the community, Lahav said.
“Slowly, slowly, the kibbutz is trying to renovate those houses that are in better condition,” Lahav explained. “As we have the money and time to renovate more, more people will move in.”
But its survival and security depend on the next steps of President Trump’s peace plan coming through — something that is far from guaranteed. Hamas has not agreed to disarm or give up power as laid forth for phase two of the plan, and Israel Defense Forces deal with daily incursions from armed terrorists from Gaza City trying to sneak past the yellow line separating Palestinian- and IDF-controlled parts of the area.
For now, construction is the main sign of movement in the community, aside from the occasional boom of artillery as the IDF demolishes buildings and tunnels in Gaza and pushes back against terrorists.
The kibbutz was among the worst hit by Hamas in the Oct. 7 attack, with IDF soldiers unable to reach it until the evening after the morning attack. Of the 1,139 people who died and roughly 240 who were kidnapped by terrorists that day, 123 came from Nir Oz alone.
“In Nir Oz, it’s different than other kibbutzim,” she said. “All the kibbutz is destroyed, so we have to rebuild the whole kibbutz again.”
When Lahav’s own house was repaired in May, she returned alone.
“I was the only person in the whole neighborhood,” she said. “Even if I would shout, nobody would hear me.”
For her, rebuilding Nir Oz is more than a physical act — it’s an act of courage. One that asks her to stand on ground that reminds her of the worst of humanity, and believe that life here can go on.
But starting over can be scary for anyone, let alone for survivors of unthinkable horror.
“I used to go to sleep and lock all the windows, turn down all the shades, make sure ten times my door is locked,” she said. “Then I’d wake up and lock my bedroom door again. It was very hard for me — and it’s still very hard for me — to sleep here.”
The government allowed her to keep both her home in Nir Oz and a temporary apartment in Kiryat Gat, an hour away.
“They said, until you decide what you want to do, you can keep both,” Lahav said. “It’s good because I can go back to Kiryat Gat, sleep and get up fresh.”
But months later, she still wrestles with whether she truly belongs here anymore.
“It’s already six months, and I’m still afraid every night, again and again and again,” she said. “Would I want to live in a place where I’m scared all my life? What kind of quality of life would I have?”
Her fear isn’t unfounded — it’s visceral. Lahav was home on Oct. 7, 2023 when terrorists stormed her community and torched homes. Families were murdered in their safe rooms; others, including children, were dragged across the border into Gaza.
“I’m afraid of terrorists entering my house,” Lahav said. “I’m not afraid of missiles. I’m afraid of terrorists coming from the Gaza Strip the way they did — and coming to my house and kidnapping me, or killing me, or raping me, or whatever they’ve done already.”
Before the massacre, she didn’t see the danger coming. Lahav said she regularly volunteered to escort Palestinians in Gaza for treatment at hospitals in Israel, believing deeply in peaceful coexistence.
Since then, an estimated 67,000 Gazans have been killed — or roughly one in 33 residents — in the war following the Oct. 7 attack, according to the Palestinian Ministry of Health, which does not distinguish between Hamas terrorists and innocent civilians.
“I thought that the people over there — the Palestinians — are good people like me. They all want peace,” she said. “Now, after Oct. 7, I understand they really, really hate us. They think that rape, murder and kidnapping is legitimate.”
Even now, with the kibbutz trying to heal, the scars remain visible — and not only on the buildings.
“The woman who will live in front of me — her husband was murdered, and her daughter was kidnapped and released,” Lahav said. “Her house is ready, but she hasn’t slept there a single night yet. She’s hesitant … it’s emotionally very difficult.”
Lahav understands that hesitation better than anyone. She’s lived both sides of it — the urge to rebuild and the instinct to run.
“In the beginning, I said, no way will I ever come back here,” she said. “Then I thought, I want to come back and rebuild the kibbutz again. Now, I don’t know.”
Still, she tries — a few nights at a time — to reclaim her home and her sense of peace.
“I love the trees,” she said wistfully. “It used to be one of the 14 botanical gardens of Israel. Now it’s difficult to see, but it was very beautiful.”
Those trees, planted by her parents when Nir Oz was first founded, are what tether her to this place.
“My parents made the kibbutz. I want to come back,” she said. “But it’s taking a big toll.”

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